An Ensuing Evil and Others by Peter Tremayne Page B

beyond endurance. One must bear the ills with the joys of our profession. I admit that I liked him not. But dislike was not enough to slit his throat.”
    “Slit his throat? Why do you use that expression?”
    Will Painter frowned. “I do not understand.”
    “What makes you think that his throat was slit?”
    “Why, Master Burbage waxing lyrical about a cutthroat having entered the theater in search of plunder and killing Bertrando. What other method would such an assassin use?”
    Master Drew uncovered Bertrando s body.
    Will Painter saw the stab wounds and turned his face away in disgust. “I liked him not, but ‘tis oppressive to see a man so reduced as this.”
    “And you cannot hazard a guess to the identity of anyone who would wish him so reduced?”
    The young actor shrugged. “In truth, if I were to name one, I would name many.”
    “How so? Master Burbage says he was well disposed to the entire company?”
    The youth was cynical. “Well disposed, but more to the feminine gender of our company than aught else.”
    “Women?” asked Master Topcliff, aghast. “Do you mean that you have women as players?”
    “Aye. Master Burbage experiments in using women to play the female roles, as is common in Europe. Bertrando cast his net like a fisherman and trawled in as he could. However, he lives… lived with Hester at the Mermaid Tavern in Mermaid Court.”
    “Hester? And who is she?”
    “The maid that plays Helena in our comedy. I saw Bertrando and Hester arrive at the theater together. She was already dressed for her part, and so Bertrando went towards the dressing room, presumably to change. I saw Bertrando no more.”
    “Did you go near the dressing room?”
    “Not 1.1 went off to seek a flagon of ale in the Globe Tavern opposite, and there I remained until I heard the sound of disturbance. Master Fulke will tell you that I departed as he arrived, for he brushed past me as I quit the theater, although he didn’t greet me.”
    “Master Fulke? And who is Master Fulke?”
    “You have not heard of Raif Fulke, who plays the part of Parolles in our play?”
    “Parolles?” mused Master Drew. “Let me stick with Master Fulke and not be confused by such a choice of names. You say that Master Fulke brushed past you?”
    “I did.”
    “Did he go to speak with Bertrando or Hester?”
    “I did not stay to see, but I think not. He is at enmity with them, for Hester once lived with Master Fulke and he bears no fondness for Bertrando. It is well known that Fulke is jealous of Bertrando and his success both on stage and with women.”
    “Well, Master Painter, do you go to call this Hester here, but do not go beyond the confines of the theater until we tell you.”
    The girl Hester came almost immediately.
    Old Master Topcliff and his assistant, aware of the niceties and refinements, had stopped her from entering the dressing room with the dead body and proceeded to question her outside. She was an attractive woman whose silk gown may have seen better days but which still enhanced the contours of her figure, leaving little to the imagination. That she had taken the news of the death of her lover badly was written on her tearstained features. Her skin was pale and her eyes red with sobbing.
    “I hear you were Bertrandos lover?” began Master Drew without preamble.
    The girl sobbed and raised a square of muslin to the corner of her eye and dabbed it. “Lover? I am Mistress Herbert Eldred,” she announced, raising her chin slightly. “So have I been these past two years. I have a paper to prove it.”
    Master Drew blinked, but it was the only expression that he gave of surprise.
    Master Topcliff sighed as if totally puzzled. “Faith! Who is Herbert Eldred?” he demanded in bewilderment.
    Master Drew glanced swiftly at him. “The actor, sir, Bertrando Emillio. Herbert Eldred is his real name.”
    “Ah, I had forgotten. Why these people cannot stick to one name, I have no understanding.” He looked hard at