He’d come to the States on book-buying business and stopped off in Atlanta for a few days to visit with Gary. He’d never anticipated having the discussion they’d just had, but was glad everything was out in the open.
No more secrets lay between them.
“You can stop beating yourself up,” he said to her. “All of this is done, and has been for a long time.”
She started to cry.
Which was unusual.
Pam was tough. That was her problem—too tough. Combine that with his own inability to deal with emotions and they’d made for a challenging pair. Their marriage, which included much happiness, in the end failed. Finally now, after so many years, they both seemed to realize that placing blame mattered little. All that mattered was Gary.
They both stood from the table.
She stepped to the counter and tore off a couple of paper towels to deal with her tears. “I’m so sorry, Cotton. So sorry for all of this. I should have been honest with you a long time ago.”
True. But that was past, too.
“I almost got you killed. Hell, I almost got Gary killed.”
He shouldered his travel bag and stepped to the door. “How about we call it even.”
She threw him a perplexed look. “How is that even possible?”
Asked that question three years ago he would have had no answer. But a lot had happened since he left Georgia and moved to Denmark. His life was so different, his priorities changed. Hating an ex-wife was not only meaningless but counterproductive. And, besides, he’d come to realize that he was half to blame for all the hurt anyway.
Better to let it go and move on.
So he threw her a smile and answered with the truth.
“Actually, we’re more than even. You gave me Gary.”
Writer’s Note
FOR THIS NOVEL TWO TRIPS WERE MADE TO ENGLAND, ONE OF them quite memorable as we were there when the Icelandic volcano grounded all air travel. Good use was made of those three extra days, though, as my wife, Elizabeth, and I scouted more locales that eventually made their way into the novel. For an interesting addition to the novel, check out my short story, “The Tudor Plot,” which takes place seven years before The King’s Deception.
Now it’s time to separate fact from fiction.
The death scene of Henry VIII (prologue) happened, and most of the comments made by Henry are taken from historical accounts. The king died without his children present, but whether Katherine Parr visited him during his final days is unknown. Of course, Henry’s passing on of a great Tudor secret to his last queen was my invention. The death of Henry VII at Richmond Palace (chapter 10) is likewise faithfully recounted, except I added a visit from the heir. Sir Thomas Wriothesly’s description of what happened that day was most helpful.
Many refer to London’s Metropolitan Police as Scotland Yard, but I decided to utilize its proper label, “the Met.” That was likewise true with the Secret Intelligence Service, which is popularly known as MI6 (responsible for international threats). The Serious Organized Crime Agency (SOCA) (chapter 3) is a domestic law enforcement agency, Great Britain’s version of the FBI.
Windsor Castle and St. George’s Chapel are both magnificent. Henry VIII is buried there, beneath the marble slab as detailed in chapter 3. The epitaph quoted is accurate, as is the fact that Henry’s grave was opened in 1813.
Fleet Street and the City (chapter 9) are correctly described, as are the Inns of Court (chapter 10). Where the Middle and Inner Temples are now headquartered was once a major Templar stronghold. The land grant from Henry VIII and James I to the barristers happened (chapter 13). The Pump Court is also there, as is the Goldsmith house (chapter 58), though I slightly modified the house. The story recounted in chapter 10, of how the War of the Roses may have started in the gardens, is considered true. But nobody knows for sure. The Inns are governed by benchers, led by the treasurer (chapter 26), and act as both a training and governing body for their lawyer-members—similar to the role state bar associations play in the United States. The Middle Hall, featured in chapter 10, is perhaps the Inns’ most historic building, but the round Temple Church is its most recognizable (chapters 9 and 10). The Penitential Cell (chapter 12) inside the church can be visited. The Inns of Court are required, by royal decree, to maintain the Temple Church as a place of worship (chapter 13).
The Daedalus Society is not only Thomas Mathews’ creation but mine, too. However, the tale of Daedalus (chapter 12) is taken from mythology. Nonsuch palace once existed (chapter 25) and how it disappeared is likewise true. The symbols that were supposedly there (chapter 25) never existed but are based on the Copiale Cipher (an image of which appears in chapter 15). I merely adapted that 75,000-character German manuscript to this British story. Only recently has its array of abstract symbols, mixed with Greek and Roman letters, been fully deciphered.
There are many locales that make appearances. Brussels, with its Manneken Pis (chapter 2); Oxford and its many colleges (chapters 16 and 20); Portman Square and the Churchill Hotel (chapter 35); Piccadilly Circus and London’s theater district (chapter 25); Little Venice with its longboats and narrow canals (chapter 4); St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Whispering Gallery (chapter 5); Westminster Abbey and the chapel of Henry VII (chapter 36); Oxford Circus (chapter 8); and The Goring Hotel (chapter 54). The Tower of London is likewise an amazing site (chapter 17), which includes the Royal Jewel House (chapters 45 and 48). London does indeed sit atop a hundred miles of subterranean rivers, each enclosed within a maze of tunnels, the Fleet being the largest and most famous (chapters 58 and 59). The underground chamber described in chapter 59 is entirely my creation, though similar tunnels and chambers are found beneath London all the time.