The Twelfth Night Murder (A Restoration Mystery) by Anne Rutherford

Author:Anne Rutherford [Rutherford, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

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HAVING finished breakfast, Suzanne and Ramsay bundled up in cloaks, gloves, and muff to venture out to the docks along the river in search of the one-handed sailor mentioned by Big Willie. Rehearsal was in progress on the stage and in pockets of open space here and there about the theatre. Suzanne noticed Little Wally running lines with Matthew and Louis on the ground in the pit, and decided to have a chat with him about Liza. She asked Ramsay to wait for her by the entrance doors, and approached the cluster of actors.

“Wally, might I have a word with you for a moment?”

He turned to address her, in full femme though he wore his men’s street clothing. “Why yes, mistress. Whatever your heart desires.” He strode as gracefully as a queen to follow her to the other side of the pit, out of earshot of the other two men, seeming to float above the gravel and leaving nary a footprint. Suzanne couldn’t help but look at his feet to make sure they were touching the ground. They were, of course, but one couldn’t know it by watching him move. He stood, poised like a dancer, and waited for her to speak.

“Wal, I hope you know I value you as a member of this troupe. I believe you’ve brought a great deal of talent and skill to our production of Twelfth Night.”

His gaze dulled and a line appeared between his eyebrows, which was his way of frowning. “I detect the approach of a ‘however.’”

“Nonsense. I offer my praise in all sincerity. I have nothing ulterior to say. Wally, it is because of my high regard for your abilities I come to you for help.”

He eyed her with palpable skepticism. She pressed on and hoped he would believe her.

“My dear, I understand there is a conflict between you and Liza concerning the relative merits of your talents.”

“She’s a sow.”

“Be that as it may, I find myself in a bit of a bad spot concerning that conflict.” Liza was perfectly capable of being sow-like when angered, and so Suzanne didn’t care to argue the merits of Wally’s accusation. She continued, “I need help from you with her.”

“What sort of help could I possibly give? I’ve no control over her attitude toward me.”

“I mean, I think her attitude is hurting her portrayal.”

Wally suddenly dropped his overtly feminine stance and set his hands on his hips to lean toward her in a conspiratorial attitude. His voice became a harsh, masculine whisper. “I’ve been saying that all along! She thinks of herself as the end-all because she’s got a cunny and I don’t, and she doesn’t realize that it takes more than bits of flesh to portray a character!”

Suzanne nodded as she saw she might be getting somewhere with him. “So you see what I mean.”

“Absolutely! I keep trying to tell her that, but she will never listen. All she can do is go on about how she’s a ‘real’ woman.” A note of grief entered his voice, and it struck Suzanne he might wish he were a woman.

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