‘The police need to keep an open mind, Margot,’ Magellan-Lacey replied, giving her a reassuring smile.

  ‘But, Tommy, you know how popular Peregrine was. Everyone loved him. He was the kindest man in the world – and he totally worshipped both Their Majesties. He was so proud to serve them.’

  Grace nodded. ‘I’m sure he was, Lady Greaves. But did he ever express any concerns to you?’

  ‘What do you mean? What kind of concerns?’

  Polly Sweeney interjected. ‘Concerns about some individual – or some organization – anyone involved in criminal activity who might have wanted to silence him?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Lady Greaves said. Her voice cracked. ‘I really don’t think I can take much more of this.’ She dabbed her eyes again.

  Grace and Sweeney exchanged a silent signal with their eyes. Then Grace said, ‘Lady Greaves, I appreciate your seeing us today.’ He gestured towards his colleague. ‘Polly is going to act as your Family Liaison Officer – she will keep you constantly informed and updated on all aspects of our enquiry into your husband’s death. You can feel free to contact her at any time of the day or night, if you want information or think of anything that might be helpful – or just feel you want to chat, to talk to someone.’

  Lady Greaves gave Polly Sweeney a sceptical look. ‘So you are not only a detective, you are a mine of information, a grief counsellor and my twenty-four-seven new best friend?’

  Polly Sweeney blushed at the sarcasm. ‘Well – not exactly all of that, but I am indeed here for you around the clock. And please feel free to talk to me any time.’ She passed Lady Greaves her card. The widow took it and put it in her pocket.

  ‘Thank you, officer,’ she said. ‘But the only person I really want to talk to is my husband. And that’s a little tricky now.’

  40

  Wednesday 22 November 2023

  ‘I’m afraid, as you can see, poor Lady Greaves is not in a good place,’ Sir Tommy Magellan-Lacey said, as they walked back across Ambassadors’ Court. ‘But –’ he glanced over his shoulder, as if to ensure she wasn’t still within earshot and lowered his voice – ‘she’s not entirely correct about her husband having no enemies, as I told you earlier.’

  ‘Disgruntled enough for someone to want to kill him, Sir Tommy?’ Polly Sweeney asked.

  It took a few moments for him to answer. ‘We do have quite a high percentage of personnel on the Household staff who have been through some pretty traumatic experiences. I suppose it’s always possible that being rejected could have pushed someone over the edge.’

  ‘Well, regardless of Lady Greaves’ protestations – which are fully understandable, given the shock and grief she must be experiencing – someone clearly did want to kill him. That is the reality we seem to be faced with,’ Grace replied.

  They were all silent for a moment, mulling over that reality.

  ‘May I ask you both what your plans are now?’ the Master asked.

  ‘I have to get back down to Sussex – my team will continue their interviews in your Billiards Room for as long as that takes, if that is all right with you, Sir Tommy?’ Grace replied.

  ‘Absolutely!’

  ‘And I’ll hang around in London for a few hours,’ Sweeney said. ‘Maybe Lady Greaves would be more comfortable with a private chat, woman to woman.’

  Magellan-Lacey looked dubious. ‘Maybe. I’ll suggest it. Look, you must both be gasping for a drink. Come back and have a quick coffee?’

  Grace and Sweeney exchanged a glance. ‘I won’t say no,’ Grace replied.

  ‘Nor me!’ added Sweeney.

  They were approaching the front of the Master’s residence, and the police barrier just beyond. Grace said, ‘Sir Tommy, can I ask you something? Just from what I’ve seen today, there are a vast number of paintings and sculptures and beautiful ornaments on display within Buckingham Palace. It must be hard to keep track of everything, surely?’

  ‘It is a massive task for the Royal Collection team,’ he conceded. ‘There are sixty-four thousand items in the North Wing of Buckingham Palace alone. And then there are all the other Royal Palaces, filled with stuff members of the Royal Family have been gifted over the years, and continue to be – birthdays, anniversaries, gifts from visiting dignitaries. I don’t think Their Majesties could possibly know everything they have – I doubt they’ve even seen a lot of it. It’s just not physically possible.’ He unlocked his front door and let them through to the kitchen, stopping and stooping to address the dark brown Burmese cat. ‘Hello, George!’ He stroked it for a moment, before the cat glanced at the visitors, arched its back and shot up the stairs.

  Grace and Sweeney sat down at the wooden table, while the Master fussed around with the cafetière and kettle. Then he brought over a plate laden with biscuits and tore away the cellophane wrapper. ‘These are Florentines, they were given to us by the Chief Rabbi’s wife who made them herself – they’re delicious! Help yourselves.’

  Grace looked at them, tempted as he was hungry now, but restrained himself. ‘Have you ever had a thief or been aware of items being stolen within the Royal Household?’ Grace asked.

  ‘We have indeed, Roy – all right if I call you Roy?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And I’m Tommy. Cut the Sir Tommy crap! Understood, officers – sorry – detectives?’

  ‘Understood!’ they both acknowledged.

  ‘There’s a chappie in jail right now – a former footman, dim-witted fellow – who started nicking ornaments and other bits and pieces from Clarence House and Buckingham Palace and flogging them on eBay – under his own name!’ The Master scratched the back of his head. ‘The fellow laid the stolen items out on his bed to photograph them for eBay, with the pattern of his bedsheets clearly visible in the background!’

  ‘A lot of criminals aren’t that bright, fortunately,’ Grace said.

  Magellan-Lacey nodded ruefully. ‘There used to be complete trust in here – and we all left our lockers unlocked. That silly footman stole my CBE and flogged it on eBay to a Hong Kong student. He confessed after he was arrested and even gave me the name of the student, but he’d gone home and I wasn’t able to track him down. So there’s now some youngster strutting around Hong Kong with my CBE hanging around his neck.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I had to buy a replacement – it was bloody expensive!’

  ‘When was this?’ Grace asked.

  ‘About five years ago. I can get you a more precise timeline if that would be helpful?’

  ‘It would,’ Grace said. ‘No other thieving, or valuables going missing, that you are aware of?’

  ‘Certainly nothing that’s been brought to my attention.’

  ‘When I was with Her Majesty a short while ago, she seemed eager to show me her favourite painting, a Vermeer, I think she said.’

  The Master nodded and said quietly, ‘Yes, that’s right. She loves that painting. It’s magnificent. A lot of people think it’s the finest piece in the entire Royal Collection.’

  ‘She seemed surprised – and quite annoyed – that it wasn’t on display and had been replaced by something else.’

  ‘I’m afraid the Royal Collection team are a bit of a law unto themselves.’

  ‘That’s exactly what Her Majesty said to me,’ Grace said.

  ‘Yes, well, they decide when something needs cleaning, or they simply feel has had too much exposure to light and needs to rest for a period of time. I think they are a little over-protective, personally. But they do a fine job and always have done, and the Royal Collection is in very safe hands with them. I wish I could say the same about some other aspects of the Palace.’

  ‘Really?’ Polly Sweeney said and took a bite of a Florentine.

  He nodded. ‘There have been decades of cost-cutting and shoddy workmanship, which we are only just beginning to discover, thanks to all the renovation work. And I mean not just shoddy but jolly dangerous.’

  Grace was surprised. ‘Really?’

  ‘Roy, I took you along the East Wing corridor, where the royal apartments are. The late Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh walked along it every day, many times a day. When we lifted the carpet up last year, we discovered a whole section of the corridor floor had been removed, probably decades ago, when new pipework was put in, and was never properly replaced. There were just some very thin planks that had been partially sawn through. If anyone had jumped up and down on them hard enough, that section of the floor would have collapsed and the late Queen would have plunged through, like something out of Monty Python.’

  ‘Could that have been done by some disgruntled workman?’ Sweeney questioned. ‘Someone actually hoping The Queen or Prince Philip would fall through?’

  ‘Entirely possible, although I’d say more likely it was down to the cost-cutting and poor craftmanship.’

  ‘Tommy,’ Grace said. ‘It would be helpful to have a list of any disgruntled former employees who have military or police backgrounds – and, for belt and braces’ sake, any current employees who you think might have some kind of grudge or resentment over being passed over for promotion.’

  ‘Or medals, too,’ the Master said. ‘Not getting a medal when someone else does, that can be a big source of resentment. Over what time period do you want?’

  ‘If you can go back ten years – I would think anyone harbouring a grudge who’s planning some kind of revenge would act within a decade. How long had Sir Peregrine worked for the Royal Household?’

  ‘Gosh, I can check – but around twelve years.’

  ‘He was in the Royal Navy?’

  ‘Correct. He was a good and brave man. Terrible loss.’

  They were interrupted by Grace’s job phone ringing. Raising an apologetic hand he answered. ‘Roy Grace.’

  It was EJ Boutwood. ‘Sir, we’ve just had a call from the witness who saw the motorcyclist on the Downs. She’s just remembered the second digit of the motorbike’s licence plate.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ Grace said. ‘That will greatly help with narrowing the field on the ANPR search. Have we got a time agreed with her for her cognitive interview?’

  ‘We have, sir: 2.30 p.m. tomorrow. Alec Butler and Velvet Wilde will be conducting it.’

  Grace thanked the DC and ended the call. Then he updated the Master. ‘Good news, potentially. It seems like our key witness has remembered further information.’

  ‘Your key witness? This lady who saw the motorcyclist? Sarah – was that her name?’

  Grace nodded. ‘It’s not much, but it’s a second digit of the motorbike’s licence plate. Hopefully in the cognitive witness environment she might remember more.’

  ‘Maybe the entire plate?’ Magellan-Lacey asked, hopefully.

  ‘I’ve known that happen,’ Grace said.

  The Master clapped his hands together in a sudden flash of exuberance. ‘Here’s to Sarah!’

  41

  Thursday 23 November 2023

  Even though they’d crammed extra chairs into the Major Crime Suite conference room, there weren’t enough for all the rapidly expanding team, some of whom had to stand.

  Roy Grace normally held his morning briefing meetings much earlier, but today he’d delayed proceedings, waiting for two detectives from the Scotland Yard Counter Terrorism Command, who had been stuck in a jam on their way down from London. Also, unusually, because of the high profile of this investigation, he was joined by ACC Downing, and a PIP4 Strategic Adviser who would be with him to answer questions at the next press conference, straight after this briefing.

  Behind Grace was a large screen, headed OP ASSET. A photograph of the dead man in situ at the scene, as well as photographs of the area where the shooter had lain were shown. On another screen, an association chart of Sir Peregrine’s family, friends and work colleagues – so many it needed multiple images – was shown. Finally, there were photographs of the derailed train, the inside of the tunnel, and the topography around the south exit.

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ Grace said. ‘For the record, the time is 11 a.m., this is the sixth briefing meeting of Operation Asset, the investigation into the shooting of Sir Peregrine Greaves, Private Secretary to Their Majesties, and the investigation into the derailment of the Royal Train in Clayton Tunnel, which we believe to be linked. We welcome to the investigation DCI Jacqueline Crawley from Counter Terrorism Command, Sergeant Sam Frost and Security Coordinator DS Russ Lewis from the Royalty and Special Protection unit – RaSP.’

  He updated the team on his meetings yesterday with both The King and The Queen, the murder victim’s widow and the Master of the Royal Household, along with the information provided by, to date, the only witness who saw anything, whose full name was Sarah Stratten.

  Then he continued, ‘The team conducted interviews yesterday at Buckingham Palace with members of the Royal Household who had had any association with the deceased during the past ten years. You were joined part-way through by DI Branson. Have you anything significant to report from this?’

  ‘Jack has something of interest, chief,’ Potting said. ‘To get through everyone we divided the workload initially between us and then with DI Branson when he joined us. Jack had the only real odd note of the day.’

  Grace looked at the tall young DS. ‘Tell me, Jack.’

  ‘It was one of the footmen, sir,’ Jack Alexander informed him. ‘Wearing his full livery. Name of Geoffrey Bailey. His body language seemed wrong. It was like he used the opportunity of the interview to air a personal grievance. He said nothing about the deceased, he was just bitter that he’d been ignored – left out of – Sir Peregrine’s recent recommendations for awards of medals by The King to Royal Household staff. Bailey also told me he was gay, and I got the sense he was implying some kind of discrimination was at play, but he didn’t explicitly make any allegation of that sort.’

  ‘Was he any more specific about the medal he’d hoped for?’ Grace asked.

  ‘Apparently there’s a whole hierarchy of medals within the Royal Household, sir – they are handed out for long service or for special work – he didn’t state which particular medal he felt he should have received, but I’ll find out.’

  ‘Is there anything in his past record to indicate any familiarity with firearms?’ Grace asked.

  Sam Frost, the Royal Protection Officer, raised a hand and Grace signalled to her to go ahead.

  ‘We have had concerns about this person, Geoffrey Bailey, for some time and have been keeping a watch on him. The late Queen was advised by us that he was a bit of a loose cannon, but she said she liked him and so he was kept on. After her death, we did advise Their Majesties to let him go and they agreed – initially. But when he was served a termination notice, he went running to them. One issue we have with both Their Majesties is that they can be very supportive of their staff. It’s a nice trait, but it does mean our hands are a little bit tied when we feel someone is a potential problem.’

  ‘Are you suggesting this Geoffrey Bailey might have been the offender, Jack?’ Grace quizzed.

  ‘No, boss, he has a cast-iron alibi – he was working in Buckingham Palace all day on Monday, from 7 a.m. until after 5 p.m.’

  Grace nodded, thinking. ‘OK, let me understand your concerns about this footman a little better. When you interviewed him, he aired a grievance about being passed over for a medal. But does that have a relevance to our murder enquiry?’

  ‘I can’t say it does, sir, but there’s something about him that made me very uneasy. I think he was hiding something.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘I intend to find out more.’

  Grace smiled.

  ‘Everyone else I interviewed – and I think every single person the whole team interviewed – expressed some emotion about Sir Peregrine’s death, except Geoffrey Bailey. It was all about him – and I just had the feeling that he might know something more than he was telling us, and was using his exasperation over the medals to mask it.’

  ‘OK, I think you’re quite right to raise a flag with this man, Jack,’ Grace said. ‘He definitely needs to be interviewed in more depth. I agreed with Sir Tommy Magellan-Lacey that we would give him a list of anyone we were dubious about and wanted a second interview with. Polly is going to be up in London quite a bit over the coming weeks, in her FLO role with Sir Peregrine’s widow – I’ll ask Sir Tommy when would be a good time and then you could go up and interview him with Polly.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Grace turned to the BTP officer. ‘Steve, welcome to your first briefing. Do you have your initial findings on the derailment to share with us?’

  Steve Butcher, a jovial, balding and lightly bearded man in his late thirties, nodded vigorously and held up a laser pen. ‘I do, sir. I can now confirm the cause of the derailment. I also have something I think will be of interest to you and the team, boss. It would be helpful first to take a look at the inside of Clayton railway tunnel.’

  He pointed his cursor at the large photograph of the tunnel entrance, on the screen, and it danced around, just inside the south portal. ‘The tunnel is pretty narrow – just wide enough for two sets of tracks, the up and down lines, but not allowing much space at all for anyone working inside the tunnel. That’s why these recesses were created, approximately every twenty yards, along the entire length of the tunnel on both sides, so that workers could slip into these for safety whenever a train was entering the tunnel.’ The cursor circled around what looked like the entrance to a cave, and then along further ones into the distance.

  ‘Now, something of real significance is that ten of these recesses go further back and connect to the air shafts built into the tunnel roof – their purpose was to enable the steam from the old locomotives to escape. There is a room in each of these ten recesses for the railway workers to have a break and rest, where in the old days they could light a fire to keep warm.’ He gave a knowing smile. ‘I’m sure some of you are wondering what this has to do with the derailment of the Royal Train, and I can tell you – it appears to have quite a lot to do with it.’