The King's Deception

Writer’s Note

For this novel two trips were made to England, one of them quite memorable as we were there when the Icelandic volcano grounded all air travel. Good use was made of those three extra days, though, as my wife, Elizabeth, and I scouted more locales that eventually made their way into the novel. For an interesting addition to the novel, check out my short story, “The Tudor Plot,” which takes place seven years before The King’s Deception.

Now it’s time to separate fact from fiction.

The death scene of Henry VIII (prologue) happened, and most of the comments made by Henry are taken from historical accounts. The king died without his children present, but whether Katherine Parr visited him during his final days is unknown. Of course, Henry’s passing on of a great Tudor secret to his last queen was my invention. The death of Henry VII at Richmond Palace (chapter 10) is likewise faithfully recounted, except I added a visit from the heir. Sir Thomas Wriothesly’s description of what happened that day was most helpful.

Many refer to London’s Metropolitan Police as Scotland Yard, but I decided to utilize its proper label, “the Met.” That was likewise true with the Secret Intelligence Service, which is popularly known as MI6 (responsible for international threats). The Serious Organized Crime Agency (SOCA) (chapter 3) is a domestic law enforcement agency, Great Britain’s version of the FBI.

Windsor Castle and St. George’s Chapel are both magnificent. Henry VIII is buried there, beneath the marble slab as detailed in chapter 3. The epitaph quoted is accurate, as is the fact that Henry’s grave was opened in 1813.

Fleet Street and the City (chapter 9) are correctly described, as are the Inns of Court (chapter 10). Where the Middle and Inner Temples are now headquartered was once a major Templar stronghold. The land grant from Henry VIII and James I to the barristers happened (chapter 13). The Pump Court is also there, as is the Goldsmith house (chapter 58), though I slightly modified the house. The story recounted in chapter 10, of how the War of the Roses may have started in the gardens, is considered true. But nobody knows for sure. The Inns are governed by benchers, led by the treasurer (chapter 26), and act as both a training and governing body for their lawyer-members — similar to the role state bar associations play in the United States. The Middle Hall, featured in chapter 10, is perhaps the Inns’ most historic building, but the round Temple Church is its most recognizable (chapters 9 and 10). The Penitential Cell (chapter 12) inside the church can be visited. The Inns of Court are required, by royal decree, to maintain the Temple Church as a place of worship (chapter 13).

The Daedalus Society is not only Thomas Mathews’ creation but mine, too. However, the tale of Daedalus (chapter 12) is taken from mythology. Nonsuch palace once existed (chapter 25) and how it disappeared is likewise true. The symbols that were supposedly there (chapter 25) never existed but are based on the Copiale Cipher (an image of which appears in chapter 15). I merely adapted that 75,000-character German manuscript to this British story. Only recently has its array of abstract symbols, mixed with Greek and Roman letters, been fully deciphered.

There are many locales that make appearances. Brussels, with its Manneken Pis (chapter 2); Oxford and its many colleges (chapters 16 and 20); Portman Square and the Churchill Hotel (chapter 35); Piccadilly Circus and London’s theater district (chapter 25); Little Venice with its longboats and narrow canals (chapter 4); St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Whispering Gallery (chapter 5); Westminster Abbey and the chapel of Henry VII (chapter 36); Oxford Circus (chapter 8); and The Goring Hotel (chapter 54). The Tower of London is likewise an amazing site (chapter 17), which includes the Royal Jewel House (chapters 45 and 48). London does indeed sit atop a hundred miles of subterranean rivers, each enclosed within a maze of tunnels, the Fleet being the largest and most famous (chapters 58 and 59). The underground chamber described in chapter 59 is entirely my creation, though similar tunnels and chambers are found beneath London all the time.

The Tudor wealth described in chapter 15 existed. Henry VII amassed huge amounts of gold and silver that Henry VIII (through his closure of the abbeys) increased. The disappearance of all that wealth during the regency of the boy king, Edward VI, remains a mystery.

Jesus College, at Oxford, was founded during the time of Elizabeth I (chapter 16). Its great hall stands as depicted, including the queen’s portrait, which still hangs. The chapel and quad (chapter 18) are also faithfully described.

William and Robert Cecil (chapter 16) are historical characters. William’s close relationship with Elizabeth I, including his protection of her during the bloody reign of her sister, Mary, is well documented. William served Elizabeth as secretary of state until his death. His son Robert succeeded him. Both men played integral roles in Elizabeth’s long reign. Toward the end of his life, though, Robert’s popularity and effectiveness waned. The derogatory rhyme quoted in chapter 36, along with his nickname “the Fox,” are real. Robert Cecil’s journal, first mentioned in chapter 15, sprang from my imagination, but the vast majority of historical information contained within it is true (chapters 47 and 49). Robert Cecil personally supervised the interment of Elizabeth I and the subsequent construction of her tomb in Westminster (chapter 52). Burying Elizabeth with Mary was his idea, and he also composed the odd inscriptions that appear on the tomb’s exterior (chapter 36).

At the heart of this story is the all-too-real drama of Abdelbaset al-Megrahi (chapters 37 and 46), a former intelligence officer, convicted of 270 counts of murder for the 1988 bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland. Afflicted with cancer, al-Megrahi was sent back to Libya in 2009 and eventually died in 2012. Both dates have been adjusted to accommodate Malone’s fictional world. Much controversy swirled around that so-called humanitarian act, the English playing a pivotal role by not interceding with the Scottish government. The United States strongly opposed the action, and to this day no one really knows the actual motivations behind its occurrence. Operation King’s Deception is totally fictitious, but the idea that the United States would seek sensitive information to coerce an ally is not beyond the realm of possibility.

Hampton Court is spectacular, and all of the scenes (chapters 37, 38, and 39) that take place there are faithful to the site. The Haunted Gallery exists, as do the Tudor portraits described in chapter 38. The Cumberland Suite, the gardens, docks, kitchens, golf course, and the tunnels beneath (chapter 42) all are there. Only the door in the wine cellar, leading to the former sewers, was my invention.

Blackfriars Abbey is long gone, but the Underground station described in chapters 56 and 57 remains. At the time this story takes place (two years ago) the station was being rebuilt, but the new facility is now complete. To my knowledge, percussion explosives, as described in chapters 3, 53, and 62, do not exist. I created them, combining the physical characteristics of several different types of reactants.

Elizabeth I was a wonderfully complex person. She never married and openly shirked her duty to provide a royal heir — both of which raise interesting questions. She was thin, unbeautiful, lonely, with nearly constant energy — totally opposite all of her siblings. The idiosyncrasies noted in chapter 49 (and at other points throughout the novel) are taken from historical accounts. Elizabeth refused to allow doctors to examine her, commanded that no autopsy would be performed, always wore heavy face makeup and wigs, donned unflattering clothing that totally concealed her body, and allowed only a select few people close. Those included Kate Ashley, Thomas Parry, both Cecils, and Blanche Parry. If there was any conspiracy, these five individuals would have been at its heart.

The Mask of Youth (chapter 16) existed, so every drawing of Elizabeth must be called into question. Within the novel are five images. On the Part One page is a portrait created in 1546 when Elizabeth was 13 years old. This would have been about the time she supposedly died. This is a famous image, one of the few that exist showing the princess under the age of 25. No one knows, though, if it accurately depicts her. The Part Two page shows the Clopton Portrait from 1560. Elizabeth was 27 at the time, two years into her reign, and never looked less regal and confident. The features are noticeably nonfeminine. On the Part Three page is the Ermine Portrait, painted in 1585. This is an excellent example of the Mask of Youth. Elizabeth was 52 years old at its creation, but her face is that of a much younger woman. The same is true on the title page with the Rainbow Portrait, where Elizabeth was 70 years old but appears far younger. And, finally, on the Part Four page is the Darnley Portrait, painted from life in 1575. Interestingly, the crown and sceptre were placed on a side table, not held, suggesting that they were more props, than symbols of power. Once again, little about the face is feminine. The conclusions are inescapable. We simply have no idea what Elizabeth I looked like.

Elizabeth wanted her Scottish cousin James to succeed her. The Union of Crowns, which Robert Cecil spearheaded (chapter 16), is historical fact. Elizabeth’s quote—I will have no rascal to succeed me, and who should succeed me but a king—is often cited as authority for her wishes. Its oblique wording is odd. Why not just simply name a successor? But if the possibility that she may have been a fraud is considered, the odd phrasing begins to make more sense. Whether Elizabeth was actually aware of the plan of succession Robert Cecil hatched with James is unknown. But most historians agree that Cecil would have never made the overtures without her blessing. The deathbed scene described in chapter 16, where she supposedly made her succession wishes clear, happened — and in 1603 the English crown passed from the Tudors to the Stuarts with no objections.

The story of what occurred while the young princess Elizabeth lived with Katherine Parr and Thomas Seymour (chapter 21), including Seymour’s unseemly advances, was quite the scandal. Parr did eventually send the princess away and wrote a letter, which was delivered to Elizabeth a few months after Parr’s untimely death (chapter 21). I modified its wording to fit this story. Parr, though, would have been the only person (outside the conspirators) who could have discovered any switch. Unlike Henry VIII, Parr spent a great deal of time with the young Elizabeth (chapter 52). The former queen also harbored a deep resentment toward anything and everything related to her late husband Henry VIII. So it is unlikely she would have revealed anything she may have known.

Henry FitzRoy was the illegitimate firstborn son of Henry VIII (chapter 40). All of the details recounted about FitzRoy, including his marriage to Mary Howard, are correct. Whether FitzRoy fathered a child before dying at age 16 is unknown. All agree, though, that FitzRoy physically resembled the Tudors, so it’s logical that any child of his would be similar. As detailed in chapter 38, only Henry VIII’s secondborn, Mary, lived into her forties. All of Henry’s other known offspring died before the age of twenty. Yet Elizabeth lived to age 70, even surviving a bout with smallpox early in her reign (chapter 38) — most uncharacteristic for a child of Henry VIII.

Bram Stoker’s book Famous Impostors, published in 1910 (chapters 25 and 26), is the first printed account of the Bisley Boy legend. The italicized text in chapter 27 is quoted directly from Stoker’s book. The New York Times’ opinion of the book—tommyrot—is also correctly quoted (chapter 38).

I heard the Bisley Boy tale during a visit to the village of Ely, north of London. Stoker was the first in print to link the legend to Henry FitzRoy. Whether the story is truth or fiction we will never know. What is known is that the people of Bisley, for centuries, on May 1 each year, paraded a small boy through the streets dressed in Elizabethan costume (chapter 27).

Why do that?

No one knows.

But the Westminster tomb of Elizabeth and her half sister, Mary, has never been opened. If the remains of the young princess, who may have died at age 13, lie within, the application of modern science could easily solve this riddle.

Research for this novel involved studying around 300 books on Elizabeth I. Many were filled with inexplicable statements, like the one quoted in chapter 38, an excerpt taken verbatim from a 1929 American volume, Queen Elizabeth, by Katherine Anthony. The final line certainly resonates. She went to her grave with her secret inviolate. The author provided no revelations or explanations for any secret, leaving the reader to only wonder.

Which is the same for the Rainbow Portrait (title page and chapter 63).

Robert Cecil himself commissioned the painting, which was not completed until after Elizabeth I’s death in 1603. The portrait still hangs in Hatfield House, replete with all of the symbolism explained in chapter 63. The Latin phrase on its face — NON SINE SOLE IRIS — NO RAINBOW WITHOUT THE SUN — is made all the more interesting in light of the Bisley Boy legend.

If, indeed, Elizabeth I was not who she purported to be, the legal reality is that everything done during that long reign would be void (chapters 49, 56, and 63). That would include all of the massive land seizures that happened in Ireland, much of which eventually formed the country of Northern Ireland (chapter 56). Thousands of Protestant immigrants were granted royal land titles from Elizabeth, every one of which would now be called into question. The Troubles happened (chapters 56, 57, and 59). Thousands died from decades of violence. Prior to 1970 tens of thousands more died in the conflict between Unionists and Nationalists that traces its roots directly back to Elizabeth I. Most observers agree that the hate within Northern Ireland has not disappeared. It merely simmers, both sides waiting for a good reason to start fighting again.

What better one than the entire English presence there being based on a lie?

Elizabeth McGuire in chapter 63 made clear to Cotton Malone that history matters.

And she was right.