He was egotistical, verbose and hot-headed to a fault. But he did not deserve to die
His name was Will Fowler, an actor in the esteemed theatrical company called Lord Westfield’s Men, a vibrant young man flushed from the success of a recent performance at The Queen’s Head theatre. So exuberant was he that he persuaded the resourceful manager of the company, Nicholas Bracewell, to quaff a pint or two at a nearby pub.
Alas, it was to be Will’s last taste of beer. A tavern brawl left him dead but not before he gasped for Nicholas to find his fast-fleeting, red-bearded murderer and administer a just revenge.
Yet finding Will’s murderer in London’s dark, crowded streets was a seemingly impossible task not to mention the fact that Lord Westfield’s Men were just commanded to appear at the court of Elizabeth I an honour one dare not refuse . . .