Next In Line

Chapter 6

‘I’ve no idea where we are going,’ admitted William to a guard carrying the inevitable clipboard.

‘Then it must be your first visit, sir,’ responded the guard as he checked William’s warrant card, and placed a tick next to his name.

William nodded as he slipped the card back into his pocket.

‘If you continue on up the road, you’ll see a large white house on your right. I’ll call ahead, to warn them you’re on the way.’

‘Thank you,’ said William as the barrier rose, and Danny proceeded along a wide drive, never exceeding ten miles an hour. A speed he was unfamiliar with.

When the magnificent Wren mansion came into sight, Danny slowed down and circled a large rose garden before coming to a halt.

As if by magic, the front door opened just as William stepped out of the back of the car.

‘Good morning, Chief Inspector,’ said a man dressed in a short black jacket, white shirt, grey tie and pinstriped trousers, with black shoes that shone like a guardsman’s. ‘Her Royal Highness is expecting you.’

William and Ross followed the butler into the house and up a wide sweeping staircase to the first floor. William was so nervous he didn’t even glance at the paintings that adorned the walls. And then he saw her, standing by the entrance to the drawing room.

‘How nice to see you again, William,’ the Princess said as William bowed. He was taken by surprise when she called him by his Christian name, although the protocol officer at Scotland Yard had told him she often did so to put her guests at ease. However, the PO had reminded him firmly never to become overfamiliar and to always address her as ‘Your Royal Highness’ or ‘ma’am’.

‘May I introduce Inspector Hogan, ma’am.’

‘We met at Scotland Yard, Inspector, but only briefly,’ said Diana, ‘when you accompanied my lady-in-waiting around the Black Museum. In fact, it was Victoria who suggested you might be suitable to take over as my personal protection officer.’

Ross didn’t comment as the butler reappeared, carrying a heavily laden tea tray, which he placed on the table in front of them. William admired the Herend porcelain tea set decorated with insects and flowers, knowing that Beth would expect him, like a good detective, to recall every detail.

‘Do sit down, both of you,’ said Diana. ‘I’ll be mother. China or Indian, Inspector?’

The protocol officer had mentioned how to bow — from the neck, not the waist, like a cabaret artist — but she hadn’t mentioned China or Indian.

‘Indian,’ said William, while Ross simply nodded.

‘I read your service record with interest, Inspector,’ Diana continued as she passed Ross a cup. ‘Two Queen’s Gallantry Medals and countless commendations. You sound like a cross between Sydney Carton and Raffles. Most impressive.’

‘More Raffles, ma’am,’ said William. ‘We spared you the three official reprimands, not to mention a temporary suspension.’ Diana laughed, while Ross remained silent. ‘DI Hogan is the still waters type, ma’am,’ added William, coming to his rescue.

‘That’s not what Victoria told me,’ said Diana, placing a slice of plum cake on a plate in front of Ross, who didn’t touch it. ‘I also read about you, William, and your remarkably swift rise through the ranks,’ she added as William picked up a pair of silver tongs and dropped a lump of sugar into his tea. ‘But after my brief encounter with Artemisia, that hardly comes as a surprise.’ She turned her attention back to Ross. ‘I understand you also have a daughter?’

Over the years William had witnessed Ross chat up several women he hadn’t even been introduced to, but this time he just sat there, bolt upright, his tea going cold and his cake still untouched.

‘What a magnificent Frith,’ said William, once again coming to Ross’s rescue as he looked at a painting on the wall above the fireplace.

‘Yes, one of my favourites,’ said Diana, without glancing around. ‘Ladies’ Day at Ascot. Not part of the royal collection,’ she whispered, ‘but a gift from my late grandfather. Do tell me, William, how is my new best friend, Artemisia?’

‘She tells everyone about meeting you, and the story becomes longer with each telling. She wanted me to let you know that she’s looking forward to seeing you again when you open the Frans Hals exhibition at the Fitzmolean. I fear she’ll be presenting you with another bunch of flowers.’

‘Which reminds me,’ said Diana, ‘I have a little gift for her.’ She leant forward and took a small box wrapped with a silk ribbon from the shelf below the table, handing it to William. ‘And I haven’t forgotten Jojo,’ she added, retrieving a second gift which she gave to Ross.

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ spluttered Ross, pronouncing it incorrectly.

‘Ah, you can speak!’ teased Diana.

While William laughed, Ross turned a bright shade of red, something else William hadn’t witnessed before.

‘No doubt,’ continued Diana, ‘you’ve already been fully briefed on what the job as my protection officer entails. But my bet is they’ve only told you half the story, and not the better half.’

This was a statement that left even William wondering how to respond.

‘There’s never a dull moment,’ she went on, ‘but I fear you’ll find the hours are unpredictable. I once had breakfast with Mother Teresa, lunch with Mikhail Gorbachev and dinner with Mick Jagger, all on the same day. No prizes for guessing which one I enjoyed the most.’

‘Mick Jagger?’ ventured Ross.

‘I think we’re going to get along just fine.’

Ross didn’t respond.

‘Can I pour you a fresh cup of tea, Inspector?’ the Princess offered, glancing at his untouched cup.

‘No, thank you, ma’am. But can I ask if you have any particular problems that you think I should know about?’

‘Now you mention it, I’d like to be able to visit the gym, swim or even go shopping occasionally without being pursued by a dozen paps.’

‘That might not always be easy, ma’am. After all, you’re the most photographed person on earth,’ Ross reminded her, ‘but short of killing them, I’ll do my best.’

Diana revealed that shy smile the public had become so familiar with, before saying, ‘I also have friends who don’t enjoy seeing their faces plastered across the front pages of every national newspaper: accompanied by articles about their past lives.’

Ross nodded, but didn’t offer an opinion.

‘And one or two of them might well visit me’ — she paused — ‘how shall I put it, outside of office hours.’

‘Why would that prove a problem, ma’am,’ said William, ‘while you’re safely ensconced in here? No one can get past the barrier unless you have given your express permission they can do so, as we’ve just experienced.’

‘I can assure you, William, there are at least half a dozen photographers parked outside the front gate twenty-four/seven and they don’t even take a break for lunch. Two in particular don’t seem to appreciate that I have a private life and would like it to remain private whenever possible.’

‘Understood, ma’am,’ said Ross. ‘You can be assured the only other woman in my life is two years old, and I won’t be sharing your secrets with her.’

‘I can’t wait to meet her,’ said Diana.

‘We won’t keep you any longer, ma’am,’ said William, when the clock on the mantelpiece struck the half hour, ‘remembering the important dinner you’re attending this evening.’ Something else the protocol officer had briefed him on.

‘A state banquet in honour of the King of Saudi Arabia,’ said Diana. ‘I understand that the King speaks little English, while Her Majesty speaks no Arabic. So that should make for a jolly occasion. I, on the other hand, will be sitting next to the Saudi Arabian ambassador, who I’m told has four wives. So he won’t be short of small talk.’

They both laughed dutifully.

‘I do hope you will consider joining my team, Inspector,’ she said, turning back to Ross. ‘We have a lot more fun than the rest of the Royal Family’ — she paused — ‘put together.’

Ross managed a smile as the butler reappeared.

‘Your next appointment has arrived, ma’am.’

‘No, they haven’t,’ said Diana. Turning to William, she admitted, ‘That’s just a coded message to get rid of you two, whereas I’d much rather have tea with you than dinner with the King of Saudi Arabia. However...’

William immediately stood up. ‘I think the time has come for us to leave, ma’am. Thank you so much for seeing us.’

‘I do hope I’ll be seeing you again, Inspector,’ said Diana as she accompanied them both down the wide staircase to the hall. William was pleased to see Ross chatting to the Princess while he hung back to take a closer look at several paintings he might never have the opportunity of seeing again, including a seascape by the other Henry Moore. Beth would be certain to question him when he got home about which artists the Princess favoured. It would be an interesting challenge to see how many of them he could remember without being able to make a note.

As they walked back into the entrance hall, he paused to admire a Turner, a Millais and a Burne-Jones, only wishing he had longer to appreciate them. The Princess accompanied them out to the car, where she once again surprised William by having a long chat with Danny before they departed. She didn’t go back inside until the car was out of sight.

William waited until they’d turned into Kensington High Street before saying, ‘Well, do you want the job, chatterbox?’

‘Of course I do,’ said Ross, without hesitation. ‘But I have a problem.’

‘Will there be anything else, Mr Booth Watson?’ asked his secretary as she closed her dictation pad.

Booth Watson sat back and considered the question of how to deal with the dual problems of Miles Faulkner and his ex-wife Christina. Although he’d seen both of them quite recently, he still wasn’t sure if Miles had accepted his explanation of what had taken place in Spain, while Christina had certainly worked out what he’d been up to. He was aware she wouldn’t hesitate to seek advice from Sir Julian if it were in her own best interests. But he also knew the ideal person to keep an eye on both of them, while only reporting back to him: a man who would have contacts in Belmarsh, both behind bars and on the landings, while at the same time keeping a close eye on Christina Faulkner, so he always knew who she was seeing, and what she was up to. Although Booth Watson detested the former Superintendent who’d left the Met under a cloud, he agreed with Lyndon Johnson who, after resigning himself to the difficulty of firing J. Edgar Hoover, had once commented, ‘It’s probably better to have him inside the tent pissing out, than outside pissing in.’

‘Yes, Miss Plumstead,’ he eventually managed. ‘I want you to arrange an urgent meeting with ex-superintendent Lamont.’

‘Of course, sir. But I should point out that your diary is back-to-back at the moment. You have two court appearances later in the week and—’

‘In the next twenty-four hours,’ Booth Watson said, interrupting her.