The Hawk Is Dead

98

Thursday 30 November 2023

‘Cuckoo clocks?’ Rose Cadoret shook her head in amusement. ‘You’ve driven all the way here from Brighton to ask me about cuckoo clocks?’

‘It’s one of my questions, yes,’ Grace replied, calmly.

‘We do actually have just three cuckoo clocks in the Royal Collection. My favourite is a particularly beautiful one acquired by Queen Mary. It features a unique gilt bronze chapter ring and cuckoo striking mechanism with a circular pendulum. There is another in the Collection with moon-shaped hands and a painted face, which also has a unique mechanism. But none are here in Buckingham Palace. One is at Sandringham, one is in the Lodge on the Balmoral estate. I’m not actually sure where the third one is — but I can find out for you. If you are interested, I could introduce you to the Keeper of the Clocks. There are over one thousand clocks spread across the Royal Palaces and five full-time clock winders.’

Grace nodded. ‘Another time perhaps.’ Then he looked hard at her. ‘Do you have the duty roster for PC Jon Smoke, showing Monday November the twentieth for me?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Sir Tommy Magellan-Lacey said he was going to give you the original copy of the duty roster of PC Smoke, which included that day, to hand to me.’

She looked puzzled. ‘No, I... he... didn’t say anything about it. I do apologize. I’m sure I can get it for you quite easily.’

‘When we’ve finished, thank you, I need to see it,’ Grace said. ‘He also told me you were going to let me see the box of Granny’s Personal Chips. Where is that kept?’

She looked hesitant. Her eyes darted around wildly for a moment and, just fleetingly, her face had a strange, almost feral expression. It reminded him of something but before he could think what, it morphed into a friendly smile. She said, ‘Yes, yes, of course, yes! It’s down in the vault, I’ll take you there. Do you want to go now?’

He raised a placatory hand. A call was coming through on his mobile phone. He saw it was from Shannon and stepped to one side, taking the call, but said nothing in response to the information he was given, just a ‘Thank you, goodbye.’

He turned back his attention to Cadoret. ‘Just a couple more questions before we go to the vault, please.’ He took a moment before continuing, watching her face very carefully now. ‘Rose, there’s something I wonder if you can tell us. I understand you recently paid a company in Bexhill, in East Sussex, called Silversands Residential, a substantial sum of money. I understand this is a very high-end care home for the elderly. Can I ask you where that money came from?’

She hesitated again, her eyes looked wildly around once more and that feral expression fleetingly returned. ‘It was actually one hundred and eighty-two thousand, five hundred pounds and ninety-two pence, if you want it exactly, Detective Superintendent.’ Her eyes shot from Grace to Branson and back to Grace. ‘And what the hell business of yours is it, no disrespect, where that money came from?’

‘It’s very much my business,’ Grace replied, still calm. ‘I’m conducting a murder enquiry into the death of Sir Peregrine Greaves, and I’m looking at everyone with whom he had connections.’

‘And just what does my paying money to a care home have to do with Sir Peregrine’s very tragic death?’

‘I would be grateful if you would answer my question, Rose,’ he said, with a sharper edge to his voice now. ‘I asked you where did the money come from?’

‘From my savings,’ she answered with an insolent expression. ‘Is it illegal to have savings?’

Again her eyes roamed the room and that expression returned; suddenly Grace realized what it reminded him of. It was a trapped animal. A desperate, trapped animal.