‘And I’ve had discussions with the Lord Chamberlain, who is addressing all staff in the Ballroom at midday. He will tell them that counselling is available to anyone who feels they need it.’
‘Good. But what about Margot?’ Margot was Sir Peregrine Greaves’ widow.
‘I went to see her last night, Sir. Predictably, she’s in bits. But she told me all three of her daughters were on their way to Ambassadors’ Court to be with her. Just in terms of admin, other staff members have stepped up to cover the Private Secretary’s role in the interim.’
King Charles shook his head and gave the Master a wan smile. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Tommy.’
Magellan-Lacey gave a modest head-bow. ‘Thank you, Sir.’
‘And what about the investigation — what do we know so far?’
‘I’ve been in regular communication with the Commissioner of the Met, who—’
‘Sir Mark Peckham?’ The King interrupted.
‘Exactly, Sir. He has everything in hand, and is in turn liaising with the Chief Constable of Sussex — her name is Lesley Manning — and her senior team. I understand that she has put her top Major Crime detective in charge of the investigation — a Detective Superintendent Roy Grace. As you know, Her Majesty is now en route by helicopter to Hampshire to the first of two hospice visits today, and where the police are on the highest alert, with all leave cancelled, and additional protection being provided by the Army and the RAF.’
The King stared up at him, looking increasingly agitated. ‘My darling wife is being so damned insistent, Tommy! Why can’t she understand there is some maniac out there trying to kill her? It’s all very well you telling me the police have things in hand. But you are not reassuring me!’
‘I’m afraid she is determined to finish her visits to the hospices, Sir.’
The King shook his head again. ‘And who is this Grace character? Some provincial copper — why haven’t we got the top Met people on it?’
‘Officers from the Counter Terrorism Command are going to be on his team. But I understand he’s highly experienced, Sir, very well thought of — and the right man for where the incident happened, with a very great deal of local knowledge.’
The King gave him a strange, withering look. ‘Incident? Are you calling the attempted murder of my wife just an incident?’
He gave The King a placatory smile. ‘I was using police terminology, Sir.’
‘Hmmn. If you say so. I want to see this Grace fellow, can you get him here now?’
‘He’s coming up first thing tomorrow, to talk to Her Majesty.’
‘Why can’t I see him now?’ he said with a growing frustration.
‘I spoke to Her Majesty earlier. She is resolved to honour her commitments to the two hospices in Hampshire and will then return to London this evening. She’s not actually in his county any more — Grace is only responsible for Sussex and Surrey, not Hampshire. I have a call in to the Chief Constable there.’
The King shook his head in near disbelief. ‘Tommy, I don’t like her out there, swanning around England, with a gunman on the loose. As I told her last night.’
Major General Sir Tommy Magellan-Lacey said, standing very stiffly, ‘I’ll do my best, Sir. But you know Her Majesty.’ He gave The King another solemn head-bow.
‘I do!’ King Charles retorted. ‘Bloody determined.’
24
Tuesday 21 November 2023
It wasn’t just all over the news, it pretty much was the news, both in the UK and around the world, eclipsing all other stories.
The pressure on Roy Grace as he sat with his assembled team around the oval conference room table in the Major Crime Suite was immense. It was a few minutes past nine. He had not gone home last night, instead grabbing a couple of hours’ kip at around 4 a.m. on the makeshift camp bed he kept in his office cupboard for such purposes, then showering in the gym and changing into the fresh shirt and underwear he also kept in his office.
The only respite he had was the knowledge that Queen Camilla had returned safely to London last night, and today would be visiting, as scheduled, the two hospices in Hampshire — another county, which was not his responsibility.
Despite his lack of sleep, he was energized, thanks partly to a painfully icy shower he had deliberately inflicted on himself, partly to the cocktail of adrenaline and espresso surging through his body, and partly to the fury burning inside him. The fury that some bastard had, in the view of the world’s media, attempted to assassinate The Queen.
He felt fully alert and ready to take on everything the day was going to throw at him. And it was going to throw a lot, including showing his presence at the Private Secretary’s postmortem, and holding a press conference — scheduled for midday. As he sat, he guided on his screen the very long roll of newspaper headlines, scrolling down the flat video monitor behind him.
TENTATIVE D’ASSASSINAT CONTRE LA REINE D’ANGLETERRE
MORDANSCHLAG AUF DIE KÖNIGIN VON ENGLAND!
MOORDAANSLAG OP DE KONINGIN VAN ENGELAND
ATTENTATO ALLA REGINA D’INGHILTERRA!
INTENTARON ASESINAR A LA REINA DE INGLATERRA
POKUS O ATENTA’T NA ANGLICKOU KRA’LOVNU
محاولة اغتيال ملكة إنجلتر
ملکہ برطانیہ پر قاتلانہ حملہ
ПОКУШЕНИЕ НА КОРОЛЕВУ АНГЛИИ.
SALAMURHAYRITYS KUNINGATAR CAMILLAA VASTAAN!
He continued for some moments scrolling through the local, national and international newspaper headlines. Making sure everyone in this room got the message. That they fully understood what they were dealing with. The biggest crime on their territory since the bombing of the Grand Hotel in Brighton.
He had his regular, trusted team of DI Branson, DSs Norman Potting, Nick Nicholl and Jack Alexander, with Jack acting as Office Manager, as well as Reena Chacko, the Intelligence Manager. Along with Investigators Emma-Jane Boutwood, Velvet Wilde, Polly Sweeney and Will Glover, researcher Luke Stanstead, and a HOLMES2 — Home Office Large Major Enquiry — supervisor. He was also joined this morning by a Detective Inspector from the Metropolitan Police Counter Terrorism Command, a Chief Inspector from the Royal Protection team and a Chief Inspector from British Transport Police. They weren’t just there as a peace offering to the Commissioner of the Met, but as officers Grace believed would be able to help in areas beyond his own scope of knowledge and geographical reach.
Checking around the room that everyone he’d wanted was in place, he glanced down at his notes and then back up. ‘OK, good morning, team, this is the second briefing meeting of Operation Asset, the investigation into the shooting of Sir Peregrine Greaves, Private Secretary to King Charles and Queen Camilla. This shooting occurred at approximately 10.30 a.m. yesterday, November the twentieth, a short distance outside the southern portal to Clayton railway tunnel.’
He pointed to one of the large screens behind him, on which appeared a series of photographs of the south entrance to Clayton Tunnel and the immediate environs. Then he continued by saying, ‘You’ve seen the headlines, there is a lot of shock around this country and the world that someone has tried to assassinate our Queen. We are not for now going to be making any assumptions. We are going to concentrate our energies on the following. Firstly, what caused the derailment of the train? This is something we will be assisted with by Chief Inspector Roy Hodder from British Transport Police, who very helpfully was formerly a Chief Inspector with Sussex Police and so has valuable knowledge of our county. He has some preliminary information which he will be sharing with us shortly.’ He nodded at the uniformed officer, a genial man in his early fifties with a balding forehead and almost Victorian side whiskers, who raised a hand in acknowledgement.