The Hawk Is Dead

40

Wednesday 22 November 2023

‘I’m afraid, as you can see, poor Lady Greaves is not in a good place,’ Sir Tommy Magellan-Lacey said, as they walked back across Ambassadors’ Court. ‘But —’ he glanced over his shoulder, as if to ensure she wasn’t still within earshot and lowered his voice — ‘she’s not entirely correct about her husband having no enemies, as I told you earlier.’

‘Disgruntled enough for someone to want to kill him, Sir Tommy?’ Polly Sweeney asked.

It took a few moments for him to answer. ‘We do have quite a high percentage of personnel on the Household staff who have been through some pretty traumatic experiences. I suppose it’s always possible that being rejected could have pushed someone over the edge.’

‘Well, regardless of Lady Greaves’ protestations — which are fully understandable, given the shock and grief she must be experiencing — someone clearly did want to kill him. That is the reality we seem to be faced with,’ Grace replied.

They were all silent for a moment, mulling over that reality.

‘May I ask you both what your plans are now?’ the Master asked.

‘I have to get back down to Sussex — my team will continue their interviews in your Billiards Room for as long as that takes, if that is all right with you, Sir Tommy?’ Grace replied.

‘Absolutely!’

‘And I’ll hang around in London for a few hours,’ Sweeney said. ‘Maybe Lady Greaves would be more comfortable with a private chat, woman to woman.’

Magellan-Lacey looked dubious. ‘Maybe. I’ll suggest it. Look, you must both be gasping for a drink. Come back and have a quick coffee?’

Grace and Sweeney exchanged a glance. ‘I won’t say no,’ Grace replied.

‘Nor me!’ added Sweeney.

They were approaching the front of the Master’s residence, and the police barrier just beyond. Grace said, ‘Sir Tommy, can I ask you something? Just from what I’ve seen today, there are a vast number of paintings and sculptures and beautiful ornaments on display within Buckingham Palace. It must be hard to keep track of everything, surely?’

‘It is a massive task for the Royal Collection team,’ he conceded. ‘There are sixty-four thousand items in the North Wing of Buckingham Palace alone. And then there are all the other Royal Palaces, filled with stuff members of the Royal Family have been gifted over the years, and continue to be — birthdays, anniversaries, gifts from visiting dignitaries. I don’t think Their Majesties could possibly know everything they have — I doubt they’ve even seen a lot of it. It’s just not physically possible.’ He unlocked his front door and let them through to the kitchen, stopping and stooping to address the dark brown Burmese cat. ‘Hello, George!’ He stroked it for a moment, before the cat glanced at the visitors, arched its back and shot up the stairs.

Grace and Sweeney sat down at the wooden table, while the Master fussed around with the cafetière and kettle. Then he brought over a plate laden with biscuits and tore away the cellophane wrapper. ‘These are Florentines, they were given to us by the Chief Rabbi’s wife who made them herself — they’re delicious! Help yourselves.’

Grace looked at them, tempted as he was hungry now, but restrained himself. ‘Have you ever had a thief or been aware of items being stolen within the Royal Household?’ Grace asked.

‘We have indeed, Roy — all right if I call you Roy?’

‘Of course.’

‘And I’m Tommy. Cut the Sir Tommy crap! Understood, officers — sorry — detectives?’

‘Understood!’ they both acknowledged.

‘There’s a chappie in jail right now — a former footman, dim-witted fellow — who started nicking ornaments and other bits and pieces from Clarence House and Buckingham Palace and flogging them on eBay — under his own name!’ The Master scratched the back of his head. ‘The fellow laid the stolen items out on his bed to photograph them for eBay, with the pattern of his bedsheets clearly visible in the background!’

‘A lot of criminals aren’t that bright, fortunately,’ Grace said.

Magellan-Lacey nodded ruefully. ‘There used to be complete trust in here — and we all left our lockers unlocked. That silly footman stole my CBE and flogged it on eBay to a Hong Kong student. He confessed after he was arrested and even gave me the name of the student, but he’d gone home and I wasn’t able to track him down. So there’s now some youngster strutting around Hong Kong with my CBE hanging around his neck.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I had to buy a replacement — it was bloody expensive!’

‘When was this?’ Grace asked.

‘About five years ago. I can get you a more precise timeline if that would be helpful?’

‘It would,’ Grace said. ‘No other thieving, or valuables going missing, that you are aware of?’

‘Certainly nothing that’s been brought to my attention.’

‘When I was with Her Majesty a short while ago, she seemed eager to show me her favourite painting, a Vermeer, I think she said.’

The Master nodded and said quietly, ‘Yes, that’s right. She loves that painting. It’s magnificent. A lot of people think it’s the finest piece in the entire Royal Collection.’

‘She seemed surprised — and quite annoyed — that it wasn’t on display and had been replaced by something else.’

‘I’m afraid the Royal Collection team are a bit of a law unto themselves.’

‘That’s exactly what Her Majesty said to me,’ Grace said.

‘Yes, well, they decide when something needs cleaning, or they simply feel has had too much exposure to light and needs to rest for a period of time. I think they are a little over-protective, personally. But they do a fine job and always have done, and the Royal Collection is in very safe hands with them. I wish I could say the same about some other aspects of the Palace.’

‘Really?’ Polly Sweeney said and took a bite of a Florentine.

He nodded. ‘There have been decades of cost-cutting and shoddy workmanship, which we are only just beginning to discover, thanks to all the renovation work. And I mean not just shoddy but jolly dangerous.’

Grace was surprised. ‘Really?’

‘Roy, I took you along the East Wing corridor, where the royal apartments are. The late Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh walked along it every day, many times a day. When we lifted the carpet up last year, we discovered a whole section of the corridor floor had been removed, probably decades ago, when new pipework was put in, and was never properly replaced. There were just some very thin planks that had been partially sawn through. If anyone had jumped up and down on them hard enough, that section of the floor would have collapsed and the late Queen would have plunged through, like something out of Monty Python.’

‘Could that have been done by some disgruntled workman?’ Sweeney questioned. ‘Someone actually hoping The Queen or Prince Philip would fall through?’

‘Entirely possible, although I’d say more likely it was down to the cost-cutting and poor craftmanship.’

‘Tommy,’ Grace said. ‘It would be helpful to have a list of any disgruntled former employees who have military or police backgrounds — and, for belt and braces’ sake, any current employees who you think might have some kind of grudge or resentment over being passed over for promotion.’

‘Or medals, too,’ the Master said. ‘Not getting a medal when someone else does, that can be a big source of resentment. Over what time period do you want?’

‘If you can go back ten years — I would think anyone harbouring a grudge who’s planning some kind of revenge would act within a decade. How long had Sir Peregrine worked for the Royal Household?’

‘Gosh, I can check — but around twelve years.’

‘He was in the Royal Navy?’

‘Correct. He was a good and brave man. Terrible loss.’

They were interrupted by Grace’s job phone ringing. Raising an apologetic hand he answered. ‘Roy Grace.’

It was EJ Boutwood. ‘Sir, we’ve just had a call from the witness who saw the motorcyclist on the Downs. She’s just remembered the second digit of the motorbike’s licence plate.’

‘Brilliant!’ Grace said. ‘That will greatly help with narrowing the field on the ANPR search. Have we got a time agreed with her for her cognitive interview?’

‘We have, sir: 2.30 p.m. tomorrow. Alec Butler and Velvet Wilde will be conducting it.’

Grace thanked the DC and ended the call. Then he updated the Master. ‘Good news, potentially. It seems like our key witness has remembered further information.’

‘Your key witness? This lady who saw the motorcyclist? Sarah — was that her name?’

Grace nodded. ‘It’s not much, but it’s a second digit of the motorbike’s licence plate. Hopefully in the cognitive witness environment she might remember more.’

‘Maybe the entire plate?’ Magellan-Lacey asked, hopefully.

‘I’ve known that happen,’ Grace said.

The Master clapped his hands together in a sudden flash of exuberance. ‘Here’s to Sarah!’