“But she seemed troubled these last few weeks. Ever since we resumed performances after our mid-winter break, she was different.”
“Different how?”
He gave a small shrug. “Worried.”
“Enough to kill herself?”
He gave a small wince. “I…I can’t say for certain.” He looked away and swallowed heavily.
“The person I’m working for doesn’t think she killed herself, so I’m asking some questions of those who knew her. I’m afraid some of my questions might be painful to answer, and I am deeply sorry about that. But it’s important we get to the truth.”
“I understand. And if she didn’t kill herself, then I’d like answers too, of course. Pearl deserves that.” He finally met my gaze. There was genuine sorrow in his eyes. “Do you work for Rumford?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. Mr. Culpepper, do you know someone who’d want to kill her?”
“Kill her? Miss Fox, I thought you were implying she met with an accident and merely fell over the balcony.”
“Is that easy to do? Fall over the balcony?”
He swallowed again. “I suppose not. Good lord,” he murmured. “Someone murdered her. We must notify the police.”
“The police aren’t interested in classifying this as anything other than suicide, unless I present them with firm evidence. So if you could answer my questions, Mr. Culpepper.”
“Very well. No, I don’t know anyone who’d want to kill her. Everyone adored her.” He indicated the mourners. “Pearl was the life of the party. She lit up the room with her presence. On stage, she was the brightest star in the sky.” His smile was wistful. “She was a little forgetful of her lines, but it didn’t matter. The audience adored her.”
“Such adoration can invoke jealousy in others. Do you know anyone who might have been jealous of her?”
He hesitated beforesaying, “No.”
“Other actresses, perhaps?”
He shook his head.
“What about the understudy who will be taking over Pearl’s role inCat and Mouse?”
“No! Absolutely not. Dorothea Clare was a friend of Pearl’s.” He nodded at a young blonde woman chatting to two men. I’d seen her and both men at the funeral earlier. Miss Clare had not cried, but I’d noticed one of the gentlemen wiping away tears.
“What about former lovers?” I asked.
His gaze sharpened. The lips beneath the mustache thinned. “I beg your pardon?”
I steeled myself for his anger and forged on. No matter how awkward the subject was for her friends to hear, it had to be discussed. “Did she have other lovers?”
“I believe there was only Rumford.”
“And before him?”
“That was two years ago. I can’t remember.”
“Please try. Could there have been a gentleman who had warts on his face?” I indicated the area near my mouth.
Mr. Culpepper looked appalled. “No! Pearl would never be with anyone with a disfigurement.”
“They could be sores or lesions, not permanent.”
The disgusted face he’d pulled did not change. “I don’t remember who she was with before Rumford.”
“But there was someone?”
