And neither could a crime.
“I don’t know, Peter. Sophie graduated with a first from the London School of Economics. If she was a prostitute, why? She could have been making an easy six figures with that education.”
“She could,” Knight agreed. “And then there’s the shooting.”
“Exactly.” Morgan’s thoughts were gathering speed. “If Sir Tony is responsible for her disappearance, then how is he sending shooters after the investigators from the other side of the grave?”
“It doesn’t tie up that nicely after all,” Knight conceded.
“It will,” Morgan promised. “We just don’t have all the pieces yet.”
The two men lapsed into silence. Knight knew that his boss was thinking, and gave him his time.
Morgan eventually spoke. “The shooters are the best lead we have, Peter. We get them, we find out who wants to put us out of action. We get that, we know who took Sophie.”
“But we can’t get you a protection team, Jack—” Knight began.
“I don’t need one,” Morgan cut him off, friendly but firm. “I’ve got an armed police officer and a decorated soldier.”
“If you’re sure, Jack…”
“I’m sure, Peter. Call back the chopper. You keep digging in London, and I’ll find our shooters.”
The men said their goodbyes, and Morgan walked back to the Range Rover’s open door. “We’re staying in Wales,” he told the two women, before focusing on Lewis. “I need to talk to the Princess.”
Chapter 24
JACK MORGAN ENTERED the stables of Llwynywermod, the acidic tang of dung and straw thick in his nostrils. Three beautiful horses stood proudly in their stalls. Tallest amongst them was a magnificent chestnut mare—Princess Caroline was lifting a polished saddle onto its back.
“Tennessee Walker.” Morgan smiled, recognizing the breed. “She looks fantastic.”
“You know horses?” Princess Caroline moved the saddle into position. “Come out with me, if you like. You can take Felix here. He’s a great ride.”
Morgan held his tongue, and she took that as him thinking over the offer.
He wasn’t. “I’d rather we just get to the truth, Your Highness. Sophie Edwards is a prostitute, and a blackmailing one at that.”
If Morgan had harbored doubts about this dark side of Sophie—and he had—those doubts were dispelled by the look on the royal’s face. It was not a look of shock, but one of being caught—a child with a hand in the cookie jar.
“She was,” Caroline admitted. She let go of the saddle’s strap she was tightening and stood upright. “She was,” she said again, putting emphasis on the past tense.
Morgan shook his head. “A man killed himself last week, Your Highness. Private have been investigating his death, and we found evidence of blackmail. We believe Sophie is behind it.”
“Sir Tony Lightwood,” Princess Caroline said quietly.
“You knew him?”
“No. I… I read about it in the papers.”
“He killed himself in shame over videos that we believe were, and still are, in Sophie’s possession. And now she’s missing. Did she do that to hide and protect herself, or has someone else made her disappear?”
“That’s why I hired you, Mr. Morgan, to find these things out. The reasons aren’t important. She just needs to be found.”
In their stalls the horses began to twitch with nerves. Empathetic animals, they could sense the building charge of tension between the two people.
“The reasons are everything, Your Highness, and I need to know yours. Was Sophie blackmailing you?” Morgan asked bluntly.
“No!” she replied, offended.
“Then just what is your relationship with her?” he pressed, his gut telling him there was more. Much more.
“Friendship, Jack.”
“There’s enough horseshit in here already, Caroline. Please don’t waste my time.”
For a moment the Princess was silent. “Is it that you’re not used to conversing with royalty,” she finally managed, “or that you just don’t care about protocol?”
Morgan put a calming hand on the horse’s nose. “I’m here to find Sophie, and I can’t do that if I’m kept in the dark.”
“I swear, Jack, Sophie was not blackmailing me.”
“But if she was, it would suit you to have Sophie found, and silenced.”
To Morgan’s surprise, she let out a bark of laughter. “Half of my bodyguard are SAS, Jack, and they are devoted to me. If we lived in this fantasy where I want people silenced, don’t you think I’d go to them?”
Morgan said nothing, and Caroline shook her head, the laughter gone. “Hurting Sophie is the last thing on my mind. I just want her found, Jack. Please, find her.”
“I’ll find her,” Morgan promised. Then, as he walked from the stables and out beneath a gray sky, he made another promise to himself.
He would find out why Princess Caroline was lying.
Chapter 25
SHARON LEWIS WAS there to meet Morgan as he left the stables.
“Are you here to help me, or spy on me?” he asked.
Lewis simply gave a small shrug of her shoulders.
“Can you take me to Cook?” the American then asked.
“Of course,” she replied. Morgan caught a trace of disapproval in her words. They found Cook at the kitchen table, where she was exchanging pleasantries with one of Princess Caroline’s staff.
“Jane,” Morgan said, “I need to talk with you. Alone.”
Lewis half rolled her eyes as the pair left the room.
“She thinks we’re…” Cook suggested as they found a quiet corner.
Morgan quickly changed the subject. “What are the rules of engagement for SAS operatives? Can they take out British citizens, on British soil?”
Cook shrugged. “They can. That’s what Northern Ireland was, wasn’t it? But their operations are better hidden now than ever before. There are hundreds of would-be terrorists in the country, but only a few attacks a year.”
“Taking out terrorists is one thing, but would they kill to silence a scandal? Would they kill for the Princess?”
Cook shook her head. “I really don’t think so. The armed forces are furiously loyal to the Crown, but that would be flat-out murder. Soldiers are used to seeing politicians throw them to the wolves at the first hint of a rule being bent, even in combat, so I doubt volunteers would be lining up to commit such a high-profile crime, even for her.”
Morgan wasn’t so sure. “Maybe not when they’re serving, but you and I saw what Aaron Shaw and Alex Waldron did for money,” he told her, referring to the two former servicemen who had kidnapped Abbie Winchester two years earlier. “Shaw’s record was exemplary while he was in the service.”
“People can lose their way when they leave the forces,” Cook acknowledged. “I’m sure there are more former soldiers like Shaw and Waldron out there—hired guns with no moral compass.”
Jack Morgan had experienced enough of them in his time to know that such men were not in short supply.
“There’s more to the Princess’s relationship with Sophie than she’ll admit. She’s keeping secrets.”
Cook’s bright eyes narrowed. “You’re thinking she’d hire someone to protect them?”
“No. She’s lying about something, but not that.” He shook his head. “You could see it in her eyes, Jane. She cares for Sophie, and she’s worried. Very worried.”
Cook placed a hand on Morgan’s arm—the touch of it sent a thrill through his body, though her words sent worry to his stomach.
Because they were a warning.
“She’s a royal, Jack. She’s been trained her whole life how to act, and how to lie. Out of all the people involved in this, she’s the one we can trust the least.”
Chapter 26
THE SKY ABOVE London was thick with cloud, the air muggy. On the roof of Private London’s headquarters, Peter Knight looked at the city skyline, deep in thought.