The Hawk Is Dead

31

Wednesday 22 November 2023

Grace and Branson exchanged a glance, both feeling for a moment like schoolboys in the headmaster’s study, then looked around the emerald-carpeted room. It was finely furnished in a regal rather than homely way, and could have comfortably swallowed the entire footprint of his cottage, Grace thought. And yet, at the same time, here in the context of this palace, it didn’t really feel large at all.

High-ceilinged, with an imposing crystal chandelier, the wallpaper was a fern-coloured fleur-de-lis pattern. French windows with swagged gold-coloured curtains looked out onto balustrading and the gardens beyond. An ornate clock sat on the mantelpiece, framed by black marble statuettes holding lampshades. Below, a fire screen stood in front of an unlit wood-burning stove. Beautiful but dark and sombre paintings were hung from chains around the walls, and there was a handsome bookcase, each shelf tightly packed with leather-bound volumes. A round, antique wooden table, polished to a mirror shine, with four matching chairs, filled one of the window bays.

‘Cleo would go crazy if she saw this,’ Grace said. ‘She loves antiques.’

‘That why she likes you, is it?’ Branson quipped, getting in a dig at the ten-year age gap between Roy Grace and his wife.

‘Yeah, right, I—’

He stopped in mid-sentence as a polished, conservatively dressed woman in her forties came into the room, followed by the unmistakable figure of Queen Camilla.

Right behind her was Magellan-Lacey, who spoke in a brisk, businesslike manner. ‘Your Majesty, Detective Superintendent Roy Grace and Detective Inspector Glenn Branson from Surrey and Sussex Major Crime Team. And, gentlemen, if I may also introduce Her Majesty’s Private Secretary, Jayne Bennett.’

The Queen looked at each of the detectives for a moment, as if sizing them up. Grace forgot for a second to bow. It was Branson who did so first with almost theatrical exaggeration. Grace gave a more restrained and rather awkward lowering of his head.

The Queen was dressed in a black two-piece with a matching scarf around her neck. He was, momentarily, at a loss for words.

Fortunately, The Queen wasn’t. ‘Good morning, gentlemen. May we offer you some refreshments — I gather you’ve come up from Sussex. Some tea or coffee?’

‘Thank you, but we’re fine, Your Majesty,’ Grace said.

The Queen gestured them to the armchairs, then sat down on the edge of the sofa, facing them. The Master left the room and The Queen’s Private Secretary sat at the round table in the window and produced a notebook followed by a pen.

There was a brief silence, which Grace hastily broke, immediately aware as he spoke that, uncharacteristically, his voice was probably an octave higher than normal and had a nervous quaver.

‘Your Majesty, I believe you have quite a strong connection to Sussex?’

‘I do indeed,’ she replied. ‘My family home throughout my childhood was in Plumpton — only a few miles from Brighton, I’m sure you know it. I have great affection for the county. Are you from Sussex?’

‘Born and bred,’ Grace said.

‘And me,’ Branson added.

‘It’s a beautiful county.’ The Queen smiled briefly, then stiffened, signalling small talk was over and stared directly at Grace. ‘Detective Superintendent, I had been under the impression that someone had taken a pot-shot at me and missed, hitting poor Perry instead — which is just... simply dreadful — but I’m informed you have a different opinion, is this the case?’

‘I am considering all options, but I do have a different opinion, Ma’am,’ he said. ‘And I will explain my reasons to you fully. I would like to start at the beginning before we get to them, if I may?’

‘Please do.’

‘I appreciate this may be distressing, but it is important for the investigation that we go into detail. If you can cast your mind back to Monday morning, can you tell us in your own words exactly what happened?’

‘Yes, of course — from what point?’

‘Starting from the moment you boarded the train. Did everything seem normal to you?’

‘A bit too normal,’ she said. ‘To be honest, I didn’t notice much, I was making some amendments to a speech I was planning to deliver last night — which I did. It wasn’t until the train suddenly began slowing down really quite sharply, and then the carriage started shaking and people — including me — were being flung out of their seats, that I realized obviously something was seriously wrong.’ She paused to reflect for a moment then continued.

‘It was all happening so quickly. In a flash it was over and we were stationary, and I heard screaming. I was lying on the floor and smelled something burning — like an electrical fire. I got onto my feet — with some difficulty as the carriage was at an angle, and one of my shoes had come off. The driver and Peregrine as well as my Protection Officer were urging everyone to get off the train. I felt I had to make sure everyone was all right. Tiny and Elena — my two Queen’s Companions — were a bit shaken but fine, as was my dresser and dear Jayne, here.’ She looked across at Jayne, who nodded reassuringly. ‘The Train Manager looked as if he might be in shock, and I saw the Director of Comms had blood running from his nose. It was all very traumatic.’

She paused for a moment and interlocked the fingers of both hands. ‘Is this enough detail for you?’

‘It’s very helpful, Your Majesty,’ Grace said.

‘Did you have any observations at the time or in the immediate aftermath, Your Majesty?’ Branson asked. ‘One thing we need to do is to rule out any members of your Household staff being involved in whatever was really going on. After the derailment, did you notice anything unusual in the behaviour of any of them?’

‘Anything unusual? What exactly do you mean by that, Detective Inspector? To be frank, it was an unusual event and the normality of people’s behaviour at that moment was the very last thing on my mind. We were all very shaken. I wanted to see if everyone was all right, and the driver was extremely anxious to get us off the train.’

‘Ma’am, what I mean is,’ Branson explained, ‘like, for instance, one of your members of staff not being as shocked as you might have expected?’

The Queen gave him a look that stopped short of being totally withering. ‘How shocked, exactly, do you mean?’ She gave a fleeting smile as if trying to signal she wasn’t beating up on him, she just wanted to understand. ‘Do you have a slide-rule, marked one to ten, Detective Inspector, like some kind of Richter scale that you use to test victims of train derailments?’

Grace, seeing his colleague struggling in deep water, waded to his rescue. ‘Ma’am, what DI Branson is asking is if Your Majesty felt anyone’s behaviour indicated, in any way at all, that they might have known the derailment was going to happen? Perhaps someone looking unusually anxious during the journey, anything of that nature?’

‘Absolutely not!’ she said, emphatically. ‘One moment everything was absolutely normal, and the next, everyone was in a state of total shock and bewilderment, as I was. The driver seemed to be very distressed, poor man. He was concerned about an express train coming towards the tunnel and wanted us to get out as quickly as we could. It was quite horrid in there, and trying to walk across those stones — ballast, I think they call it — in court shoes, was something I wouldn’t recommend.’