Drury Lane’s Last Case

Author’s Note

It is with the revitalized relish of the professional gourmet — who, having nibbled wearily at the morbid comestibles at his command, suddenly encounters a rare and delicious delicacy — that I record herewith the last case to which that grand old man of the theatre, Mr. Drury Lane, lent his exceptional efforts.

It has been a privilege to serve as the silent stenographer of Mr. Lane’s exploits; and surely no one will question — if differing about the man himself — the remarkable plasticity of thought which he displayed in those investigations which I have entitled The Tragedy of X, The Tragedy of Y, and The Tragedy of Z. But it is more than a privilege, it is a duty, to record this extraordinary man’s last investigation, which I have subtitled The Tragedy of 1599 for reasons which will be apparent on a reading of these pages. I say “duty,” for, if Mr. Lane astounded his contemporaries and his public by the loftiness of his thinking processes in the three explorations into crime already recorded, he positively staggered them by his investigation of the case which terminated his career as self-appointed guardian of the law. And to withhold this amazing adventure from those who have followed Drury Lane’s fortunes so patiently, encouragingly, and, at times, enthusiastically would be a lamentable cruelty.

It is my admittedly biased opinion that for sheer wonder and rarity there is no precedent in criminological history for the case set down between these covers.

— BARNABY ROSS