The Hawk Is Dead

67

Monday 27 November 2023

Glenn Branson drove perilously close to the back of a double-decker bus, which had pulled out in front of them. As they screeched to a halt, inches from an advertisement on its rear for the lowest interest mortgages in the UK, he turned to Grace and said, ‘Sir Tommy?’

‘I’m not happy with his body language,’ Grace said. ‘A question I put to him about Sir Peregrine — I asked him if he’d noticed anything different about him — his demeanour — whatever — in the days before his death. Whether the deceased Private Secretary had seemed worried about anything. Sir Tommy said he hadn’t but would ask around. And you saw his reaction when we asked about Finch?’

‘You think he might be covering Sir Jason Finch’s backside?’ Branson suggested.

‘Well, he seemed a little uncomfortable when I asked him if he could think of any reason someone might have wanted the Private Secretary dead. Was he trying to cover for his friend to avoid the — seemingly inevitable — discovery by Lady Greaves of her late husband’s “proclivities”?’

‘Old boys’ network, maybe?’ Branson suggested.

‘Perhaps. And perhaps the same reason he’s not really mentioned Sir Jason Finch in all our conversations with him or that Finch had been involved with Cadoret and Smoke back in Afghanistan.’

As Branson drove on, Grace was thinking hard about the deciphered code, which he had on his phone.

An item on the target list is a priceless diamond of great historical significance from a collection known as ‘Granny’s Personal Chips’. My source told me they are planning to replace it with a fake that would be undetectable to the naked eye.

It was around the time he had mentioned Granny’s Personal Chips and the interviews he wanted to do that he’d thought he had seen a slight reservation from Sir Tommy.

What was that about, if it was anything at all? Had Sir Tommy discovered something his friend, Sir Peregrine, was up to, and was trying to cover up for him?

But if so, why tell them about the strange torchlight flashes his wife, Fiona, had seen?

His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. It was ACC Downing. He sounded anxious. ‘Where are you at the moment, Roy?’

‘On our way back down from Buckingham Palace, sir.’ It wouldn’t be often in his career that he would say that, he thought. ‘I’ll be back at HQ in about an hour.’

‘Can you come and see me the moment you’re back. Meantime, any updates? Comms are under siege, everyone wants to know about the connection between the two murders.’

‘I have no evidence at this stage to link the deaths of the two men, sir.’ He hesitated. ‘But I might need a bit of diplomacy with you and the Met, to get more information on this.’

‘What do you mean exactly, Roy?’

‘I’ll explain when I see you, sir. But basically I need a baseball bat — to hit a big swinging dick.’

68

Monday 27 November 2023

‘Come in!’ the regal voice called out in response to the bold knock on his office door.

The Master entered, closing the door behind him, gave his usual single stiff head-bow and said a solemn, ‘Your Majesty.’

King Charles stood up from behind his desk and slipped one hand in his jacket pocket.

‘Tommy, yes, I... I wanted to have a word about this Detective Grace.’

‘Sir?’ the Master responded.

‘I spoke to Detective Superintendent Mosse, down in the garden, who told me he has doubts about him. He has had quite a lot of troubles of his own apparently, including a missing wife. And Mosse says he feels he’s probably out of his depth — most of the stuff he deals with are small-time provincial crimes and he can’t understand why someone of his minimal experience was put in charge of the investigation into Peregrine’s murder and the attempted murder of my wife.’

The King strode over to the window and looked down at the crime scene below for some moments, before turning back to the Master. ‘Tommy, let me ask you a very delicate question: do you really think Grace is up to the job? Because having met him, I think he is.’

‘I’m not aware of the details of Detective Superintendent Grace’s personal life, Sir, but over this past week I’ve done some checking on him, and so has the Lord Chamberlain. He appears to be extremely highly thought of within both Surrey and Sussex Police. His track record in investigating major crime is exemplary, and he is a very highly experienced homicide investigator. Perhaps you don’t recall, because you see so many people, but you awarded him a Bravery medal when you were the Prince of Wales.’

‘Good God. I’m sure you’re right. He must think me very rude that I didn’t mention it.’

‘I don’t think so, Sir, not at all. But if I may say so, I agree with you. Detective Superintendent Mosse is being somewhat disingenuous. I wouldn’t say that arresting and securing a conviction on a serial killer fits the description “small-time provincial crime”. He’s also broken and put behind bars several members of a major Albanian crime ring, an international online scamming group that murdered two people, along with countless other very major and nasty criminals. If I may add also, Sir, to his credentials, after a six-month stint with the Major Crime Task Force here in the Met, he was offered a Commander’s role in London, two years ago, but turned it down because he wanted to remain hands-on in fighting major crime in Surrey and Sussex.’

‘I see.’ The King looked reassured.

‘If I could say something else that might put your mind at ease, Sir?’

The King gestured for him to go ahead.

‘If I was unfortunate enough to have a member of my family murdered, and I had to choose between Detective Superintendent Grace and Detective Superintendent Mosse to head the investigation, from what I have seen of the two men, and with all my past military experience, I can assure you there would be no contest. It would be Detective Superintendent Grace, without a moment’s hesitation. And if I was going into battle, I would feel very confident knowing he had my back.’

The King smiled. ‘Thank you, Tommy. You know how much I trust your judgement. I’m relieved to hear you say this, and I completely agree.’

‘Thank you, Sir.’

‘Just one more thing.’ He frowned. ‘I can’t remember what time The Queen will be back this afternoon. I believe she’s opening a hospital in the Midlands, somewhere.’

‘She is, Sir. She’ll be back here by 5 p.m. — she has her Silver Swans this afternoon.’

‘Ah, right, yes. Of course, it’s Monday. Indeed.’ He smiled. ‘Ballet — she loves it and what a marvellous way to keep fit and supple. She has a lot more fun with that than I have with my ruddy one-man morning boot camp, doing my Canadian Air Force exercises.’

‘I can’t really see you doing ballet, Sir,’ Magellan-Lacey said.

‘Nor you, Tommy. Although your job involves you doing an awful lot of tap-dancing. I think you’re very good at that.’ The King gave him a wry smile, then turned towards his desk, a cue that the meeting was over.

‘Sir,’ the Master said, gave another respectful single head-bow and retreated out of the door.