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stepping forward smartly.
    ‘Has the physician arrived?’
    ‘Yes, Sir.’
    ‘Then, for the record, let him confirm the cause of death. After that the body can be removed. Meanwhile, I’d be grateful if these good people left the stage.’
    ‘There is just one person I think you should speak to first,’ Sir,’ said John in an undertone.
    ‘And who is that?’
    ‘Dick, the stage manager, a very helpful fellow. He swears that the platform through which Jasper Harcross fell was in perfect working order at the dress rehearsal.’
    Mr Fielding nodded. ‘Bring him over. By the way, is that platform under guard?’
    ‘I posted Will, the theatre boy, to stand by it, with strict instructions to allow nobody near.’
    The Blind Beak smiled. ‘You have done well, Mr Rawlings. How very fortunate that you were here. Now, let us get rid of the onlookers.’
    But this time the actors had no wish to watch as the body was uncovered and examined by a doctor, who confirmed John’s diagnosis, much to his satisfaction. Instead, all looking very subdued, they returned to their dressing rooms, awaiting the summons to questioning.
    ‘Mr Fielding would rather you remained in your costumes for the moment,’ Joe Jago called after them.
    ‘Why?’ asked Mrs Martin, rounding on him, her old spirit obviously returning.
    ‘Material evidence,’ he answered obscurely, and with that she had to be content.
    ‘But why really?’ John asked the clerk in an undertone, not wishing to appear ignorant before either the Blind Beak or the actors.
    ‘Because they wore them at the dress rehearsal, Mr Rawlings.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘So if whoever sawed through the planking was wearing their costume when they did so, there might still be some telltale sign upon it.’
    ‘Oh, I see. Then what should I be looking for?’
    ‘Anything. A dirty mark, a tear, a missing button, anything. Just keep your eyes sharp, Mr Rawlings.’ And Joe Jago tapped the side of his nose with his finger.
    Within a quarter of an hour, indeed as two in the morning struck, the mortal remains of poor Jasper Harcross were removed to the mortuary, awaiting claim by his immediate family, to whom it was planned to send a Runner bearing the ill tidings.
    ‘Was he a married man?’ the Blind Beak asked David Garrick as the corpse set out on its dismal journey.
    ‘Yes and no,’ came the answer, accompanied by a laugh. ‘The fact is that Jasper kept a wife that nobody knew about, residing in the country. In Kensington to be precise. He would go there and serve her occasionally, so I believe.’
    ‘And between times?’
    ‘He loved the ladies and they loved him. He played true to type when he took the part of Macheath, believe me.’
    ‘Was there anyone in particular?’
    ‘All of ’em,’ Garrick said with relish. ‘There’s not a woman in this cast he’s not had some kind of dalliance with.’
    “Zounds!’ the Apothecary exclaimed. ‘Even Mrs Martin?’
    ‘Even she,’ replied the actor, and laughed once more.
    The Blind Beak turned to John. ‘Now, my young friend, I wonder if you would be so kind as to let me enlist your help once more.’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘If I question all these people myself we will be here till dawn and tempers will fray. I wonder if we might divide the number in half and if you would quiz some of them on my account.’ The hare-like quality in John, the part of him that could not resist adventure, responded, ‘I will do that gladly, Sir. What are the kinds of thing you want to know?’
    ‘Basically, their relationship with the deceased, for good or ill. And secondly, if they can account for themselves between the dress rehearsal and tonight’s performance.’
    ‘I don’t quite understand.’
    ‘Joe has examined the wooden box with the stage manager. Both of them agree that the planking has been sawn through, just as you thought. However, Dick assures me that it was in good order when he closed the theatre down after the final rehearsal. That