Murder Most Royal

‘Do you drive, Arthur?’

He tried to swallow. His throat was dry. ‘I . . . Sometimes.’

‘Around that time, a packet of drugs went missing from the bag that washed up. The police know, because of the way the bag was packed. You’ve probably heard about it because I understand they’ve been trying to track it down.’

He stared.

‘I suppose someone might have come across it before Ivy got there . . .’ she suggested.

He nodded eagerly.

‘. . . But it was early in the morning, so perhaps they didn’t. Anyway, whoever found the bag acted rashly, on the spur of the moment. They made a very stupid choice. Perhaps they were coerced.’

‘I don’t know what you’re—’

‘The thing is, I do hope that it wasn’t anyone who worked for me. Because that would make things very difficult. One likes to give people second chances. But if they have drugs on them, or hidden somewhere . . .’

Arthur’s mobile face was a picture of panic. If he was seeking to go into a life of crime, he was singularly ill-equipped for it. The Queen carried on.

‘On Sunday, I’ll be attending the eleven o’clock service at Flitcham. My protection officers always sweep it very thoroughly before I arrive. If something were to be left there anonymously, it would be found. I think it belongs with the rest of the contents of that bag, in police custody, out of harm’s way,’ she rounded up. ‘Don’t you?’

He nodded.

‘I like to give people second chances, but not third ones. I’m glad we’ve had this little chat, Arthur.’

He stared at her wordlessly, before accidentally curtseying and bolting for the yard.

* * *

‘Will he do it?’ Rozie asked.

They were supposed to be discussing the Queen’s calendar. Rozie had noticed some interesting potential issues with the schedule. However, as so often during this visit, they had got sidetracked.

‘We shall see. I might have got the wrong end of the stick,’ the Queen said. ‘He couldn’t have been looking at me like that out of politeness. But I think so. Yes?’

‘I just can’t believe . . .’

Rozie said it as respectfully as she could, but she still couldn’t finish the sentence. The Queen could tell she didn’t believe one might suspect someone had stolen a packet of drugs, and was giving them a get-out clause.

‘If I’m right about him, and the packet were to be discovered, his career will be quite over before it’s begun. He’s a promising groom and a hopeless criminal. I really don’t think it was his idea.’

‘If it was someone else’s,’ Rozie said, ‘won’t they mind when the drugs are handed in?’

The Queen had considered this. ‘He can truthfully say he didn’t have a choice. And nobody has lost out – the drugs were found accidentally, after all. But I certainly don’t want one of my employees hanging on to them.’

‘No, ma’am. I see that.’

‘I do hope he has the good sense to wipe his fingerprints off the packet. Anyway, enough of that. How have you got on?’

‘Katie has some good news,’ Rozie said.

‘Excellent.’

‘She tried to see Mrs Raspberry in the hospital but it was impossible,’ Rozie said. ‘She’s on a special ward and visitors are tightly controlled. She’s pretty safe for now.’

‘Thank goodness. What else?’

‘I’ve made some progress. Not the type you were hoping for, though, ma’am.’

‘Oh?’

Rozie realised this had become a bit of a refrain. She told the Queen about the discovery of the dented Freelander. And the fact that she had found Julian Cassidy, practically comatose with drink, on his living room floor, surrounded by empty wine bottles.

‘The bean counter?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

The Queen tried to puzzle it out. This was a shock. Several shocks. What did he have to do with Judy Raspberry? He was the one person she was sure was not involved. And all those bottles . . .

‘Have you reported it? The car, I mean?’ she asked.

‘There’s no point,’ Rozie said. ‘The police already know. He was clever. I found out he reported it himself, two days later. He said he’d hit a deer that suddenly leaped out at him on the road to Muncaster, and it had made him crash into a tree. The second crash was real enough. He got Helena Fisher to back him up. She said she was driving the other way and saw it happen. They even called someone out to try and find the deer and put it down humanely.’

‘No injured deer was found, I assume,’ the Queen said.

‘No, ma’am.’

‘You saw the damage to the car. Does his story seem plausible?’

Rozie sighed. ‘Just about, I suppose. I don’t believe it, though.’

‘And he’d been drinking?’

‘Heavily. And repeatedly. You don’t get through all those bottles in one night.’

The Queen grimaced. ‘First the scuffle with Ned. Now the wine. We had high hopes for the bean counter.’

‘If he did hit Mrs Raspberry, I don’t see how he could have done it deliberately.’

‘Hmmm,’ the Queen said. ‘Not alone, certainly.’ And yet, he seemed to be drinking himself into oblivion. She was reminded of young Arthur for a moment: another hopeless criminal who couldn’t live with himself. Still, why on earth would he do it?

‘There’s something else, ma’am. On the subject of Helena Fisher.’

‘Hmm?’