Private Princess

Chapter 7

The helicopter cut its way through the sky above a patchwork of fields and villages, the spires of local churches reaching up to Morgan and Cook like long-lost friends.

“I love this country,” Cook said proudly, her eyes on the ribbon of a river that glimmered silver in the morning’s strong sunlight.

Morgan glanced at Cook and smiled. “It has its charms.”

Cook let the compliment hang in the air before pulling a tablet from a packed rucksack that held a few changes of clothes, wash-kit, and all manner of items that ranged from torches to bolt-cutters. Cook had learned in the army that she should always be ready to deploy on short notice, and this pre-packed kit had been waiting patiently in her Private London office for an occasion such as this.

“Did you bring sandwiches?” Morgan teased.

Cook rummaged in the rucksack and pulled out a packet of freeze-dried rations.

“Close enough?”

Morgan laughed and waved the food away. “Never again.” He smiled, thinking back on his military days. “Did the background come through on Sophie?”

Cook gave a curt nod. She was all business now — the woman who had risen to become a major in the British Army, earning an OBE for her leadership in Afghanistan. “Sophie Bethan Edwards, born on the third of December ’89 in Brecon, Wales.”

She went on to describe how Sophie had been raised in a middle-class family, and how she had excelled in school, winning a scholarship to the London School of Economics. No sign yet of the mistakes that Princess Caroline had alluded to.

“What did the Princess’s protection team send us on her?” Morgan asked — he had pushed De Villiers further for information.

“Not a lot that’s helpful.” Cook shook her head. “The Princess met Sophie at a closed-doors party in London. They became friends quickly, but due to Sophie’s reputation as a party girl, their friendship was kept behind closed doors as much as possible.”

Morgan thought on that for a moment. Looking out of the window, he saw that the helicopter was approaching the wide mouth of the Severn Estuary. They would soon be in Wales.

“What do you know about these ‘closed-door’ parties?” the American asked Cook, the former officer having spent many years in London.

“You only go if you’re invited, and the only people giving out the invitations are celebrities, sports stars, movers and shakers, or in our case, a member of the royal family.”

“And who gave you your invitation?” Morgan asked with a wry grin.

“That’s not in the briefing,” Cook warned. “But what I will say is anything goes at these places. I’m not saying it’s one of Caligula’s orgies, but they’re private for a reason. I saw more than a few well-known celebrities and sports personalities with white noses.”

“So Sophie met the Princess there. I wonder who else she met,” Morgan said, speculating on who in such circles could wish harm against her. “Anything in the file about a boyfriend, or exes?”

Cook shook her head. “Aside from saying that the girl likes a party, there’s nothing really in here. Maybe this is as straightforward as Knight’s suicide, and the girl skipped town?”

“No,” Morgan said with certainty. “People don’t go missing without a reason.”