Private Princess

Chapter 18

Peter Knight was searching for a parking spot on a busy London street when the call came through his car’s system. He saw Morgan’s name and answered.

“Go ahead, Jack.”

“I talked with Sophie’s parents.”

Morgan’s tone suggested that the meeting had not proved fruitful, but Knight asked how it went anyway.

“According to them,” Morgan answered, “Sophie went missing when she left for university. They said that she never got tired of telling them how much she hated it in Brecon.”

“Any suspicion of the parents?” Knight asked.

“No,” Morgan answered, trusting his gut. “They looked worn down by her, but that was about it. Both schoolteachers. Not the kind of people to have the connections to set a shooter loose.”

“So they’re a dead end?”

“They’re a dead end. Have you broken the news to Sir Tony’s daughter yet?” Morgan asked. Knight had forwarded him the contents of the USB stick. “That took some watching,” the American added. “It was hard to hold down my bacon and eggs.”

Knight sighed as he finally found a place to park. “No. I’m just arriving now.”

“I don’t envy you this one, Peter.”

Knight let out a long sigh as he slotted the car into position and pulled on the handbrake. “It won’t be easy. Stay safe, Jack.”

“Good luck.”

Knight ended the call and stepped out into the street. One look at the clouds told him that the good weather was close to breaking. Complaining under his breath about the British summer, he walked the short distance to the home of Eliza Lightwood. He had called ahead, and she was working from home to accommodate his visit. The security guards in the apartment building buzzed him inside and escorted Knight to the lift.

“Hello, Peter,” Eliza greeted him at the door. Her handshake was firm and she looked optimistic. “You have something?”

“I do,” Knight confirmed. “Better I tell you in private.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. Then she led Peter inside her penthouse apartment.

“Is it bad?” she asked, the slightest tremor of doubt in her voice.

Knight nodded. There was no way to soften what had to be done, and so he came right out with it. “Eliza, your father was being blackmailed by a prostitute. The USB drive we found in your father’s room contained a graphic video that the blackmailer was threatening to share publicly.”

If he had been expecting a dramatic reaction at the revelation, he didn’t get it.

“Oh” was all that Eliza said.

“I’ve seen it before with blackmail,” Knight said. “People don’t think they have a way out, so they choose death over—”

“Shame?” Eliza finished for him, taking a seat as the dam of her strength finally showed signs of cracking. “That stupid old fool. I couldn’t have given a shit if he was sleeping with every prostitute in London. He was my dad.”

Tears appeared in the corners of her eyes. Knight could see that the realization of her father’s suicide was finally hitting home. “Stupid old fool.” She sighed again.

“I’m sorry, Eliza.”

“It does seem clear now, doesn’t it?” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I suppose you can put me in with all those other deluded people who just couldn’t accept the truth staring them in the face. I still can’t believe it. That he’d take his life over... a whore.”

“Blackmail is a terrible crime. It pushes people into a corner.”

“Who was it?” Eliza asked, her voice hardening.

“We don’t know. The face of the woman in the video was obscured and there are no obvious clues.”

She shook her head angrily. “You did your job, Peter. You proved to me my father committed suicide. You can close this case. Close this one, and open another... Find the bastards who blackmailed my father.”