A Three Dog Problem
- Автор: Беннет Си Джей
- Серия: Her Majesty the Queen Investigates #2
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Zaffre - Bonnier Publishing Fiction
- ISBN: 978-1-83877-485-1
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «A Three Dog Problem». Краткое содержание книги:
When a body is found in the Palace swimming pool, she finds herself once again in the middle of an investigation which has more twists and turns than she could ever have suspected. With her trusted secretary Rozie by her side, the Queen is determined to solve the case. But will she be able to do it before the murderer strikes again?
At a pub in Pimlico, Rozie was on her third glass of Chardonnay. This had not been her favourite day. Her head still pounded with a dull ache from the crack it had got last night. If she closed her eyes for too long, all she could see was Mick Clements in the storeroom with the crowbar. Not a pretty sight.
At times like this, it was useful to know an equerry with benefits. She thought of him now: six foot three, military bearing, neck like a tree trunk, strawberry-blond hair and eyes the colour of the shallows near his parents’ place in St Barts. She’d called him at lunch and he’d suggested a drink after work at this pub on Pimlico Green, walking distance from the Palace but far enough away that you weren’t likely to bump into half the Household at the bar – although that turned out to be a miscalculation. A drink wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but that, too, seemed like a good idea.
After three glasses, she wasn’t sure if the wine was making the pounding in her head better or worse. Either way, the blue-eyed strawberry blond still hadn’t showed. She couldn’t blame him. Anything might have cropped up at work: she’d let down more friends in cocktail bars than she cared to remember. She’d give him one more glass, then wend her way sadly home.
She’d just ordered it when she spotted a balding head above a broad-shouldered jacket among a group of men at the far end of the bar. She might not have recognised him, if not for the fact that as soon as he happened to catch her eye, he went white as a sheet. She concentrated for a moment, thinking back to the staff records she had recently been examining.
This was Spike Milligan. The Boss had tasked her with challenging the Palace footman about being involved in the poison pen campaign, along with Lorna Lobb. Rozie had tried to track him down, but so far he had evaded her. Now she held his eye and saw his Adam’s apple bob. The slight nod she gave him said, ‘We can do this quietly, or I can come right over and we can do it in front of your mates. You choose.’ He seemed to crumple slightly. After a couple of muttered words, he headed for the door at the back of the room.
Rozie followed him.
The door led to a narrow corridor with the toilets to one side and the kitchen at the far end. There was also a staircase to a function room above. She motioned to it and they stood awkwardly halfway up. Though Rozie was on the lower step, it was clear she was in charge. Milligan’s eyes darted around, looking anywhere but at her. His face was ashen. One of his fingers beat an unconscious tattoo on the bannister. But he jutted out his jaw and said, ‘I dunno why you’re interested in me, Captain Oshodi.’
‘How could you?’ Rozie said crisply. ‘You haven’t answered my messages.’
‘Look, I’m not stupid. I assume it’s something to do with the letters business. I already told the police everything I know. Which is nothing.’
‘You were overheard talking about them.’
‘Who by?’
‘Never mind. But,’ Rozie lowered her voice to a menacing hiss, ‘HM herself is aware of your involvement. You’d better explain yourself now or it’ll go badly.’
The footman pursed his lips for a moment and finally looked her in the eye. ‘I’m sorry, right? About what happened to you. But it’s got nothing to do with me.’
Rozie’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean, “what happened to me”?’
He swallowed again and panic flickered across his face. But someone came out of the function room at the top of the stairs and walked down past them. It gave him time to think.
‘That Lobb woman – that’s her name, isn’t it? She was seen trying to drop something in your bag. People talk, you know.’
Rozie cocked her head to one side. ‘So you mean what didn’t happen to me.’
She was convinced that he was lying – or rather, that he knew about the letters she had already received, which were a tightly contained secret shared only with the Queen and the police. This meant he had been involved in delivering them, as the Boss suspected.
Rozie had been sure, when given this task, that she could manage it dispassionately: ‘find, strike, destroy, suppress’. But her heart hammered. They faced each other in silence for a short while, Milligan scared but obstinate, and Rozie fighting to manage the roiling fury and disgust that boiled inside her.
She hadn’t expected the encounter to go like this. Normally the Boss’s magic dust did its trick instantly: you asked, they answered. And yet here she was, accusing Milligan of something she was sure he was guilty of, and he was prepared to brazen it out.
Whatever he was scared of, it was more than the displeasure of Her Majesty.
He swallowed again. ‘Like I say, I’m sorry if . . . whatever. There are some bad people out there. But I can’t help you.’
He enunciated the last four words clearly and slowly, and she knew he wouldn’t change his mind. She wondered, briefly, how many broken bones it would take before he did. But she wasn’t that kind of girl, and it wasn’t that kind of job. Breathe and let go. She couldn’t even tell him to fuck off – he wasn’t obviously threatening her, as Mick Clements had.
‘This isn’t over.’
She stood aside, so he could squeeze past her down the stairs. He did so fast, without another word, and by the time she entered the bar area again, he’d gone.
Breathe and let go. She rolled her shoulders, tilted her head and decided she needed a massage, a run . . . something to relax.
She was about to fetch her coat from the seat where she’d left it when she spotted a strawberry-blond head moving purposefully through the crowd.
‘Hey! You stayed. Sorry I’m late.’
White teeth flashed in a sweetly lopsided smile. The equerry pulled in for the kiss-on-each-cheek that you could do in public without raising an eyebrow if you were posh. Rozie felt a whole new set of chemicals flood her body.
He looked at the empty wine glass on the nearby table and assumed it was hers.
‘Fancy another?’
She absolutely did.
Chapter 36
This weekend there was no trip to Windsor. Instead, on Saturday evening, the family showed up en masse at the Albert Hall for the Festival of Remembrance. The Queen and Philip were accompanied by all the children, her cousins and William and Catherine. In fact, almost a full complement of royals except for Harry, who was otherwise engaged. The media were now obsessed by the absence of his new girlfriend at the rugby. Sure enough, whatever they did or didn’t do, the press would have their say.
But the event at the Albert Hall was uplifting as always, though it marked the centenary of the Battle of the Somme and twenty-five years since the first Gulf War. There was a marvellous, moving piece to honour the ATA girls who had flown Spitfires to their bases during the war. The round auditorium was filled with uniformed serving personnel and veterans, who always sang with a lustiness particular to the armed services, she thought. It was always good to celebrate with the living.
Tomorrow would be devoted to the dead.
Sunday dawned dull and overcast, with a bitter chill. Her mother would have called it ‘dreich’. Only the Scots could truly describe bad weather. Nevertheless, it brightened up in time for the Queen to lead the laying of the wreaths of poppies at the Cenotaph to mark Remembrance Day, in front of a silent crowd.