Quick discussion on Jane and Caleb

I'm close to wrapping this one, and barring the extra bits my editor will make me add [Bald! give me more description, I want to see/hear/smell it!]  it's complete- I will post both of the final chapters tomorrow.
So, the next Jane and Caleb is going to involve Peterloo, where one of the bodies which has been gathered shouldn't be there.  [Yes, I know Ellis Peters has done it before, but in the time honoured tradition of hiding a pebble on a beach, I couldn't resist].  Now, I am considering bringing in a couple of side mysteries to run with the tradition I am starting of solving three cases at once, a format which I rather enjoy, as it allows me to throw red herrings at the audience.  So I am looking to have some more things happening in Manchester.  And I am wondering if they are there because Caleb has been sent to break up illegal prize fighting, which is sponsored by an aristocrat so that they need his tact and connections, with the prize fighting covering something ... hinky. 
I'm thinking of using Dempsey Morville or Theodore Farnsted having family near Manchester to introduce things as another possibility.
I have a few plot outlines still for J&C, including one which takes them to Jamaica but I need to make it sufficiently realistic for suspension of disbelief.  I hope you are enjoying the format of solving three mysteries at once, as i am enjoying writing them.

cover for Jane and the Actresses

cast list for Jane and the Actresses

Cast List

Sir Caleb Armitage, Bow Street Officer, recently knighted

Lady Jane Armitage, his wife

Simon, their adoptive son. [mentioned but not present]

Cecily, their adoptive daughter

Jem Fowler, Caleb’s valet, butler, general factotum, bodyguard and crony

Ella, Fowler’s wife and Jane’s dresser, helpmate and confidante

Janey Fowler, their infant daughter [by rights, Jane Elizabeth]

Mrs. Ketch, the housekeeper

Jackie, Will and Daniel, three soldiers invalided out, who serve Caleb

Nat, a pug dog, of impeccable breeding

Toby, a dog, of mixed breeding.

Gabe Stogumber, Joe Halliwell and others, Bow Street Officers

George Ruthven, Principal Officer at Bow Street [real]

Sir Nathanial Conant, chief magistrate at Bow Street [real]

Grey and Jones, patrol officers at Bow Street

Elizabeth [Ellie] Smith, aka Esmerelda De Vere, actress and dancer

Lucy Clough, an orphan.

Mr. Clough, a wealthy man, deceased

Mrs. Forbes, Mr. Clough’s housekeeper

Persons connected with the case of the dead actress

Alice Drake, aka Alethea Fazackerly, the deceased

Jem Burton, her swain

Luke Sutton, Jem’s drinking buddy

Mr. Claude Abernethy, would-be protector to the late Alice

Daniel Dunn and James King, managers of the Royal Coburg theatre [historical]

Mikey Feltham, ‘Props’

Jack Benton, doorman at the Royal Coburg

Arthur Jackson, janitor at the Royal Coburg

Anna Abbot aka Minerva Mighty, another dancer

Mr. Adrian Letheridge, her protector

Jane Brown, aka Ambrosina D’Oyle, another dancer

Albert Jackaman, her protector, self-made man and shipping owner

Mary Conway, aka Clarice Neville, plays the lead

Dempsey Morville, her protector

Will Perth, an actor.

Simon Pemberton, an actor

Mordecai Cohen, an actor.

Minney, a dancer on loan from Covent Garden.

The Countess of Wilshaw, as an aside.

Marsden, a footman

Mr. Dent, a butler

Mrs. Dobson, a housekeeper

Persons connected with the case of the disappearing actress

Jenny Black, aka Guinevere Lenoir

Jack Benton, doorman at the Royal Coburg

Arthur Jackson, janitor at the Royal Coburg

Will Cade, an ex pugilist and ruffian

Gerard Falk, Marquess Falkrington

Viscount Aloysius Brexden

Lady Susan Brexden

Persons connected with the case of the frightened actresses

Agnes Shipton once aka Amiabella Love, a maimed actress

Sukey Larch aka Suzette L’arbour

Sir Henry Wixe, her lover

Betsy Stimpson, aka Antoinette Labelle

Lord Theodore Farnsted, her lover

Mary Conway, aka Clarice Neville 

Dempsey Morville, her protector

Arabella Grace, an actress

Katherine Williams, an actress of character parts

Will Cade, a ruffian

Mrs. Carew, a widow, owns a rooming house.

Jane and the actresses 1

well, here I am back with an 8 chapter cushion.  I hope posting daily will kick my backside hard enough to keep going!  Jane has an unexpected encounter with a young woman who had a cameo role in a previous mystery and finds that the life of an actress or opera dancer can be fraught with dangers.

Chapter 1

“Look here, mai man, I knows Lidy Jane, I does; I’ve been to an ‘ouse party wiv her,”

The strident tones took Jane, who was half way down the stairs,  back to the time when she and Caleb had met Beau Popham, and their investigation into the murderous opera dancer.

Fowler’s carefully cultured and orotund tones appeared to have slipped in agitation in his reply.

“Ho, no you don’t, my girl, and it ain’t Lady Jane, nowise, it’s Lady Armitage.”

“Well whatever it is, I knows her, see? You cin ask.  She’s a reel lidy she is.”

Jane sighed, and stepped into view on the half landing, and began descending.

“Hello, Miss de Vere,” she said, with great restraint.

“See?” said Miss Esmeralda de Vere to Fowler. Jane was glad that she refrained from sticking out her tongue to him.  It would upset Fowler’s dignitas.

“Strewth!” said Fowler. “If you ain’t that young person wot put the nail in the coffin of that there Floradora female.”

“Fowler, you appear to have degenerated to the sound of Bow Bells;  I pray you amend this glaring solecism,” said Jane.

“Indeed, madam, I do apologise.  I was somewhat taken aback by the appearance of Miss de Vere, or as I believe one should properly call her, Miss Elizabeth Smith.”

“Well, I ain’t one to insist on me stage name, but Lidy Jane, you can call me Ellie,” said Miss de Vere, or Smith.

“Please, Miss Smith, or Ellie if you prefer, you are promoting me,” said Jane. “I should have to be the daughter of an earl, a marquis or a duke to be Lady Jane.  I am Lady Armitage but in light of our previous association, and if I am to call you ‘Ellie’, you should perhaps call me ‘Jane’.”

“Cor, ta, Jane, that’s real nice of you,” said Ellie, who did recognise what a concession it was, and looked mightily impressed.

Jane could not stomach being called ‘lidy’ anything. Especially by a young person whose blonde hair looked as though the colour owed some debt to artifice, and who had a voice like a corncrake.

“Come into the parlour; Fowler will bring tea,” said Jane.  “I trust you have overcome the shock of being so badly deceived by Jemima Harris, alias Floradora d’Ambrose?”

“Cor, yes.  Wot a liar that piece o’ goods was!” said Ellie.  “I mean, we all ‘as stage names, know wot I mean?  Arfter all, some of us have family wot don’t care to know us now we’re on stage, but it ain’t no reason to drag their name down. Not that ‘Smith’ is much of a name to drag down, but me sister looks like me, see, and if I ain’t goin’ as ‘Smith’ she can pass it off as coincidence if anyone see me on stage, but not if me name is the same as hers, see?” She paused to refill her apparently excellent lungs after a delivery worthy of a soliloquy of Hamlet.

“Yes, I understand,” said Jane.

“Yerse, well, it weren’t just ‘er name Jemima was lyin’ about, she lied about ‘er age, and when she told me she was a young girl wronged wot turned to actressing account of it, that was a lie too, because her pore fambly come to the trial,  oooh that was exciting!” she added parenthetically, “And it turns out she got into trouble with her pa’s apprentice, and had,” she dropped her voice dramatically, “An abortion!” and then she went on the street before she fetched up in Covent Garden as an actress and Opera Dancer.”

“My goodness!” said Jane, who could think of very little else to say.

“O’ course, I ‘ad to give my real name in court,” said Ellie, “But I didn’t ‘ave to say I was an actress, only that I’d befriended the defendant, that’s Jemima, you know, and believed she was a young girl who had attracted an older man who made a fool of ‘imself over ‘er.  Which ‘e did, right enough,” she added.

“Alas, yes,” said Jane.  “It appears that she closely resembled the woman he loved in his youth, who married another man.”

“Oh, that explines it proper,” said Ellie.  “Romeo! Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?  A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” she added, with perfect diction.

Jane stared.

“Ellie, you have a beautiful speaking voice when delivering lines; better than Floradora at her best, after months of training in how to be a lady.  How on earth is it that you slip back into ....er, your vernacular?”

“’Abit,” said Ellie.  “And account of how this is me, see?  I don’t hold wiv playin’ a part offstage as you might say.  I weren’t that ‘appy about Jemima doin’ it, but if it were to please ‘er Malvolio, whatever the gager’s name was, I could see that, see?”

“Yes, quite,” said Jane.  “Mr. Henry Popham was his name.”

“Malvolio suited the pore ol’ fule better,” said Ellie.

Jane could not bring herself to entirely disagree.

“So, you have come to see me, and I doubt it was an entirely social visit,” said Jane.  “How can I help you?”

“Well, Lidy, uh, Jane, I means, it’s this wise,” said Ellie. “Nobody don’t care for actresses, and when one turns up dead, well it ‘appens, and you don’t make much fuss about it, see?  In case it’s you next.  And besides, the top actresses, they’ve got their own worries, wiv some kind o’ nasty business, and I don’t know wot it is, and I don’t want to.  Only a friend o’ mine’s gone missin’, and I don’t like it.”

“Tell me about it.”

“’Er name is Jenny Black, an’ she calls ‘erself Guinevere Lenoire.  Seemingly some mort who was bein’ rogered by King Arfur an’ half ‘is knights orl over the rahnd table was called Guinevere, an’ she ain’t treated like a whore by the poets, so I dunno, but anywise, that’s what Jenny picked.  An’ she tells me ‘Lenoire’ is frog for ‘Black’ and she orta know.  Talks French she does, and sounds like a toff, like you, Jane.”

“Possibly, like me, an impoverished relation of a country vicar who chose a career as an actress rather than marriage,” said Jane.

“That’d fit,” nodded Ellie.  “Anyway, I seen her talking to some swell cove, and next fing I know, Gawd, there she is gorn, and ‘er room cleared out too.”

“She did not take up an offer of better accommodation in return for being his chere amie?” asked Jane.

“If she’d been any man’s peculiar, why for would she disappear?  I’m afraid ‘e offered her that and took ‘er off for foul ceremonies or vivisection or summat,” said Ellie.

“And you think she may have died like the other girl you mentioned?”

“Nah, that weren’t anyfink to do wiv it:  I just mentioned Alice account of nobody doing nuffink about ‘er dying.”

“So you are saying she died, or was killed, and nothing was done?  That’s as outrageous as a girl being able to disappear without questions asked.   And can you be sure the two incidents were not related?  Because maybe Alice suspected something and was killed to stop her from talking.”

Ellie considered.

“Nah,” she said.  “The bas...ket wot cut her took all her jewelry.”

“Well murder in commission of a robbery should have been investigated,” said Jane.

“Nah, you don’t get it, Lidy ... Jane, I mean.  Alice, Alethea Fazackerly ‘er stage name was, didn’t have no good jewellery, only glass and fish scale pearls.  I dunno why it was took.  ‘Ere!  You means someone might of took ‘er jools to make it look like a robbery, and it were meant to be a disappearance?”

“It crossed my mind,” said Jane. 

“Well, that would put a different complexion on it,” said Ellie, frowning.  “And it would spite her gentleman friend wot give her the jools, though if you asks me, they wasn’t as pretty as the ones the props left in ‘er jool box for her costume;  if it’d been me, I’d of nicked some o’ them extras to wear rather than break them up to sew on her dress.  I’m dancing her part now, it’s a harem girl wiv a sultan and all thet sort of thing, cuh and they do shine nice,” she added. 

“Ellie,” said Jane, with great restraint, “Have you spoken to, er, props about the jewels?”

“Nah, why would I?” said Ellie.

“Well, Ellie, suppose someone, er, prigged some sparklers from swell morts and hid them in a Covent Garden girl’s jewel box, leaving directions for an accomplice to collect them later, who encountered Alice and killed her, taking the wrong jewels as the real ones were sewn to her dress.”

“It ain’t Covent Garden; I’m moonlighting to do ‘er role at the Royal Coburg[1].  Now they built the Waterloo Bridge, it ain’t but a couple of minutes to nip from one theatre to the other and do two shows a night; and the pay more’n makes up for paying the foot toll on the bridge,” said Ellie.  “Cor, Jane, you mean I’m dancing wiv real sparklers on me dress?” 

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised, Ellie, my girl, and seriously as I take your friend’s disappearance, I take it more seriously that this puts your life in danger, if the flash cove snabbled a heap of fawneys and gee-gaws and recognises any of it on your costume.”

“Cuh, Jane, even I don’t know that much cant!” Ellie was impressed.  “It don’t half sound funny in your voice.”

Jane smiled.

“Fawneys are rings, gee-gaws are small valuables.”

“Well it was more nor that, there was ear rings and bracelets and necklaces, and Alice said they must of been made up for some play and trust Props to leave her to have to take them apart and sew them on.  Cuh, she made a proper job with two pair o’ earrings, managed to hook them together and sewed them onto the bit over the bubbies, and don’t they dangle nicely and sway about!”

“I would imagine they would,” said Jane, trying not to imagine Ellie’s fairly ample bosoms with flashing jewels attached strategically, swinging about as she moved ... doubtless in a number of different directions at once.

Most of the men in the audience would be likely to find it quite hypnotic. Well, if it boosted the young woman’s pay, if they were real, she would get a finder’s fee and could replace them with glass.

“I’m gwine to ‘ave to give ‘em to that nice gent of a husband o’ yours, ain’t I?” said Ellie, mournfully.

“If they are indeed the real thing, I’m afraid so,” said Jane.  “And what’s more, he’ll be sleeping in your dressing room to guard you.  But you will at least get a finder’s fee, and I would advise you to spend a little more if you want to replace them, with foil-backed glass.  It sparkles more.”

“Catch me replacing them; if props didn’t provide them, ‘e orta of done,” said Ellie.  “Mind, I might replace them bubby tassels.  Right captivated the men in the front row are,” she said, beaming with innocent pleasure.

“I am sure that having something made up especially will be even more, er, captivating,” said Jane.  “And spangles are cheap enough now they are all made by machine.”

Ellie brightened.

“Yerse, and they’d catch the light proper-like,” she said.  “And I don’t need to sew them on like wot you do on a dress being seen close up.  Ta, Jane!”

“You’re welcome,” said Jane.  “Sir Caleb will be in soon, and then we can bespeak the carriage and go and look at your costume.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll ‘ave anover of them nice little cakes,” said Ellie.  “I gotta be careful abaht me figger, but they don’t seem ‘eavy.”

“They are Russian tea cakes, and they do rather melt in the mouth,” said Jane.  “Lady Lieven gave me the recipe for them.”

“Cor!  P’haps you can let me ‘ave a copy?  I ain’t a half bad cook when I got a kitchen,” said Ellie. “A girl has to have some skills wot will keep a man as well as them as catch ‘im in the first place, and a man might commit adultery, but ‘e don’t abandon a wife wot can feed ‘im good and proper.”

“That’s very sensible of you,” said Jane, reflecting that it was a sad thing that the poor girl had to think that way and felt herself unlikely to find true love.

Ellie beamed.

“And  that’s why I ain’t ‘olding out for as swell a cove as Jemima’s Malvolio,” she said.  “No point aiming for the moon!  A nice gent wiv a couple o’ ‘undred a year’ll do me nicely.”

“Yes, it’s enough for a nice little house with a cook-housekeeper, kitchen maid, lady’s maid, man servant and a girl of all work,” said Jane.  “And enough if your husband wants to keep a horse in a livery stable as well.”

“Yes, and even better if ‘e likes one o’ these yere draisines or ‘obby ‘orses,” said Ellie.  “The outlay ain’t no more’n a good ‘orse, and they don’t eat you outta ‘ouse and ‘ome.”

“Sir Caleb enjoys his,” said Jane.

“Well, there yer go,” said Ellie.  “Ere, was that the door?”

“I believe so,” said Jane, hoping that Fowler would warn his master about the visitor.

Caleb came in, and achieved a genial smile, bowing to Ellie as well as to Jane.

“Why, Miss Smith, what a surprise,” he said.

“Cor, you Bow Street Orficers ain’t ‘alf clever,” said Ellie.  “Your man knew my name and so do you!”

“Fowler is inestimable,” said Caleb.  “Jane-girl, why is he answering the door not Mostyn?”

“Mostyn is having a tooth drawn, and I advised him that when he got in he was to go to bed with a couple of drops of laudanum in hot chocolate,” said Jane. “He has been hiding misery for a couple of days.  I sent Jacky with him to manhandle him if need be, and see he gets home safe.”

“Ah, I feel for him,” said Caleb.  “I didn’t like to ask Fowler in case it was over some wager he had with Mostyn which he preferred not to speak about.”

“Speaking of wagers, did you win?” asked Jane.

“By a comfortable margin, Jane-girl,” said Caleb.  “You’d have enjoyed it if you’d been able to come.”

“Well, Frances is not often unwell,” said Jane. “And she has gone to sleep now, and the fever has abated.

“Strewf!” said Ellie.  “I never knew swell morts seed to their own kiddies!”

“Some of us do,” said Jane, “But I fear, in the main, you are correct, Ellie. And my apologies for talking over you a bit concerning Sir Caleb’s Draisine race.  His machine has some improvements he suggested, and Mr. Grey was keen to see it in action. They settled on a town route as Sir Caleb was confident his machine could leave any ordinary curricle standing in town traffic.”

“I did too,” said Caleb, “for one of Grey’s friends obliged.  Will made a killing on side bets for the lads, I believe. Now what are we doing for Miss Smith?”

Jane filled Caleb in quickly and incisively, taking a fraction of the time it had taken Ellie to cover the salient points.

“Well, give me time to sink a cup of tea, and we’ll be off to look at Miss Smith’s costume,” said Caleb.  “And let me ring for Fowler to pack me an overnight bag.”

---

[1] Now known as the Old Vic

 

back to writing

I'm on Jane and Caleb at the moment, being old friends and easy to pick up.  William is not abandoned.  Nor is Bess.  It's been a rollercoaster with health problems, a roof which gave me a shower when sitting on the loo, and the need to get my trees lopped before the winter storms [I used to do all my own tree surgery and gutters and some roofing but alas! Anno Domini caught up with me and mugged me]
And it's the first of December already and Christmas looms its ugly head again, so here are some of my thoughts on that mighty secular celebration of Mammon

Merry Christmas?

‘Neath the mistletoe and holly

You commit the Yuletide folly

Give in to the season’s force

‘Tis New Year will bring divorce

Brave the traffic and the snowdrift

‘Tis the season to be spendthrift

Did you take that Christmas brandy?

Court in New Year, well that’s handy.

Greet the family, though you hate them

Please don’t drink, and start to bate them

Violence over what they bought

This will buy your day in court.

With the neighbour’s Christmas lighting

‘Tis unwise to come out fighting

In the New Year, judge’s frown,

Bad luck, chum, you’re going down.

poem: the spell

 this one asked for the ballad's style

The Spell

Beneath the light of Spring’s new moon

Which sparkled on the burn

He laid on stone the carven rune

To make her long and yearn.

She rode out on a summer’s day

Drawn by the unknown spell

To ride forth into danger’s way

To seek the faerie well.

Dismounted from her milk-white steed

Dressed in a gown of green

She saw the runes and gave no heed

To where she should have been.

Her maidens all with sleep were filled

They sank down on the grass

Lulled by the babbling of the rill

Which from the fae well passed

She wandered in a dreaming haze

Which led her through the wood

It was an hour, or several days

When in her path he stood.

His smile was cruel and triumph-filled

Yet she went to his arms

All knowledge of her true life killed

By runic faerie charms

She dwelled with him a faery year

A year and then a day

She bore his son, and learned to fear

The games he liked to play.

And when her babe was fully weaned

His smile was cruel and fell;

He dressed her in her gown of greed

And led her to the well.

She searched but could not find the way

Back to her lord and son

She wept, and swore that he would pay

When all knew what he’d done.

But when she left that eldritch wood

Her gown was rags and torn

Her father’s house no longer stood

Her spirits were forlorn

For where her father’s fair demesne

Had once been green and fair

Towering monstrosities now were seen

No farmlands left were there.

*   *   * 

They took her to the hospital;

They bade her tell her tale

They locked her in the mental ward

As all the treatments failed.