Malice at the Palace (The Royal Spyness Series Book 9)

 

 

We returned late for luncheon and the princess decided to take a rest before the party. I took my cue to go to meet Sir Jeremy at the Copper Kettle. It was a nondescript tearoom of the type favored by ladies up to town for a day’s shopping. With neat little tables between large potted palms. Sir Jeremy had chosen a table in a far corner and rose to meet me as I entered.

 

“Good of you to come in this beastly weather, Lady Georgiana,” he said. “I’ve ordered tea and scones. I trust that will fit the bill.”

 

“Super, thank you.”

 

The tea arrived and I poured.

 

“You have something to tell me, I gather,” he said as the waitress moved off.

 

“Two things that might be important.” And I related the curious incident of Prince George’s motorcar, that he had claimed to be in an accident when there was no sign of damage to his motor, and then later said he was held up with his decorator. Then I added the fact that Countess Irmtraut had been out when she claimed she hadn’t. And with a knife in her pocket.

 

He looked grave. “Now that could be interesting,” he said. “If Bobo Carrington had come to confront Princess Marina, you say this woman would do anything to protect the princess.”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to question her, although God knows how we’ll do that without spilling the beans about the murder.”

 

“I questioned the palace staff by telling them that a friend had come to the door after I had gone out and couldn’t make anyone hear her knocking. I asked if anyone had seen her or heard a motorcar.”

 

“That was clever of you. And had they?”

 

“No, but that was when one of the maids told me that Countess Irmtraut had been outside.”

 

He nodded. “And Prince George’s motorcar. That’s interesting, but as it happens I’ve already had a little talk with him. He was visibly upset when he heard of Bobo’s death. His first words were ‘So it finally got her, did it?’ And when I asked what he meant he said, ‘The cocaine, of course. I knew it would only be a matter of time.’”

 

“Did he know about the baby?” I asked.

 

“I gather he did, but he claimed he had only had a casual friendship with her and ended it ages ago because of her drug use.”

 

“So not his child,” I said. I must have spoken a little too loudly, as two matrons looked across at us with raised eyebrows. I stifled an urge to giggle.

 

“Apparently not.”

 

“Then finding the true father of the child seems the most important step to take, doesn’t it?” I kept my voice low this time and noticed that one of the matrons was leaning toward us in an attempt to overhear. “If he’s a prominent man he would be the one with most to lose if the news went public.”

 

Sir Jeremy nodded. “I don’t think it’s going to be easy, especially given the cloak of secrecy under which we must operate. We’ve been looking into her life and her friends and it’s devilishly hard to find out anything about her. It is as if she dropped from another planet. No past history. No birth certificate. Nothing.”

 

“And what about the baby?” I asked. “Did you find out where she gave birth?”

 

“Apparently not in or around London,” he said. “Of course she would have entered any nursing home under an assumed name, but none of the private clinics admits to her being a patient. So she went somewhere. And if we only knew where she came from, we might find that out.”

 

“Perhaps Prince George knows something of her background,” I said. “One inadvertently lets quite a lot of details slip when one is in a close relationship.”

 

“Ah yes,” he said. And from the way he looked at me I knew he was thinking about Darcy. “I can certainly talk with him again, but I found him testy about it before—obviously scared the news will leak to Marina and his parents. He wants nothing more than to distance himself from anything to do with Bobo.”

 

“I went to her flat today,” I said, deciding it was better to come clean with him. “I just wanted to get a feel of her surroundings for myself.”

 

“And someone let you in?” He looked at me in surprise. “That really is most irregular.”

 

“Only for a second. I pretended I had left some valuable earrings with Bobo and wanted to retrieve them. The doorman hovered over me every second.”

 

“And did you find anything?”

 

“Not really. Only that she is in need of a maid. Her place was most untidy. But expensive. Have you found out who was paying her rent? That might be a start.”

 

“Nobody paid her rent,” he said. “She bought the place herself, two years ago. Paid cash.”