Murder Most Royal

‘Exactly,’ the Queen said. ‘The dogs are at the heart of everything. I’d like to know more about Valentine,’ she added, thoughtfully. ‘Mr Wallace’s wife was close to Lee. I wonder if she knew something. Can you see if you can dig a little deeper?’

‘In that case—’ Rozie began.

The Queen shook her head. ‘But not in the way the police imagine. I hope I’m wrong. Let me know how you get on.’

* * *

There was nothing for it. Rozie and Katie Briggs had spent the afternoon driving up the coast in Rozie’s Mini, trying to work out ways of finding out more about Laura Wallace that didn’t involve getting up at dawn in order to get freezing cold in an icy river with the Dix Dunkers.

Rozie thought back to hot nights in Lagos nightclubs last spring, and evenings on the sand in St Barts last summer. They were her happy places. However, she knew Mary Collathorn, and had an open invitation to join the group. Any other way of infiltrating the Ladybridge Estate that she and Katie could think of would seem obvious and might be reported back to Flora. They had to assume that someone would talk because, usually, someone did.

There was little Rozie wouldn’t do for the Boss, but this remained in her ‘not if I can possibly help it’ pile.

‘You’ll love it,’ Katie said. ‘Trust me. I started wild swimming in the summer. It’s changed my life. I honestly had no energy before I started. There’s something about the cold water on your skin, what it does to your heart rate . . . It’s the most beautiful sensation.’

‘I think the active word then was “summer”,’ Rozie said. ‘If this was July, I’d happily do it. It’s January. A man literally died.’

Katie shook her head. ‘He stayed out too long, deliberately. We know that. You’d only be in the water for a few seconds.’

‘Why me?’ Rozie asked, not unreasonably. ‘You’re the wild swimmer.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You know the ins and outs of it better than I do. You’ve done it before. It’d probably be safer if you went.’

Katie let out an angry sigh. ‘I just can’t. Maybe it would go OK, maybe it wouldn’t. The shock of water that freezing . . . If I overdo it, I pay the price for days. I can’t risk it. Believe me, I wish I could. Pushing through only makes it worse.’

‘OK,’ Rozie said.

Katie squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She was clearly still struggling with talking about whatever it was. Rozie was surprised, because she literally glowed with health.

‘It’s ME,’ Katie said eventually. ‘Myalgic encephalomyelitis. I’ve had it for years. I only realised while I was doing the APS job. It practically floored me. No, it totally floored me.’

‘Myalgic . . .?’

‘Chronic fatigue syndrome. The one where people say, “Is that a real thing?” and yeah. It’s a thing. Not everyone believed me, but it is.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t need to be. I get extreme tiredness, like just-been-hit-by-a-truck exhaustion. I can sleep for a day and not feel better. Like I say, I’d been having symptoms for a long time, but I had these coping methods for getting through. At the palace, though . . . it’s a whole new level. You can’t take time off if the Queen needs you.’

‘I get that.’

‘You’re frowning.’

Rozie shook the thought off. ‘Only that Sir Simon said it was mental health problems. At least, I thought he did.’

Katie rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, he would have done. He just saw someone stressed who wasn’t up to the job. He tried to be sympathetic, but you could see his massive frustration. It didn’t help.’

‘I bet.’

‘I remember, when we came here for Christmas and there were days I just couldn’t move. Mrs Maddox thought I was malingering. She said her staff had better things to do than bring me breakfast in bed. In the end, Lady Caroline found a consultant for me. He’d worked with her great-niece who has it, too. Even her just believing me was such a relief, I can’t tell you. Anyway, he put me in touch with this new programme. I needed a new diet, new exercise regime, no stress, no pressure. I needed to stop, basically. You took over. I was going to move in with my mother, but she didn’t know how to look after me. The Boss said I could come here.’

‘But you’re getting better, right?’ Rozie asked.

‘It’s a different life,’ Katie admitted. ‘I’m still working it out. I miss the old me. I miss being taken seriously by people in smart offices with fancy titles. God, I sound so self-indulgent. I’ve got Daphne, and I can bake now. I’ve gone totally Marie Kondo. I can knit. I’m doing a degree in nutrition so I can get to the bottom of what works for me. Just don’t make me hit the freezing water, OK? Anyway, like I say, you’ll love it.’

‘I can absolutely promise you,’ Rozie assured her, ‘I won’t.’

* * *