A Death in Diamonds (Her Majesty the Queen Investigates #4)

by S.J. Bennett

although he briefly wondered what it would be like to employ Willis’s sharp wits and good looks, instead of Woolgar’s bulk and lively imagination.

Silly girl – but he wasn’t complaining. It was easier for him if there was no lawyer to interfere with his line of questioning. Given the approach he planned to take today, it helped a lot.

Beryl White was precisely what you would expect a high-class escort to be, that is, young and beautiful, with skin like silk and a nose like something off a Greek sculpture, perfectly coiffed platinum-blonde hair and a buttoned-up dress fitted a size too tight, to show off her assets.

What type of name is Beryl?

‘I put the date in my diary. But the next day I woke up with the most god-awful headache. A real blinder. I could hardly see.’ Her eyes briefly widened, as if she was reliving it. ‘Once it comes it stays for a day or two and I’m out of it, and afterwards I’m good for nothing. So I told Gina, God bless her, and she said she’d step in for me. And she did, the next day.’ She paused, lips trembling. ‘I’ll blame myself forever.’

‘Why ask Gina yourself?’ he asked. ‘Why not get the agency to sort something out?’ Beryl shrugged. ‘Once you say yes to a job, it’s up to you to get it done. Besides, I knew Gina would do it. She owes me. Owed me.’

Duh.

Why ask Gina to stand in for you, if Mr Perez wanted a blonde?’

‘Gina was normally a brunette, wasn’t she? She is in all her photographs. She had very recently dyed her hair – to become a blonde, like you, yes?’

She’d seen the sort of clients I got. She’d been interested in changing her look anyway.’

‘And did you provide any of her clothes?’ ‘No. We’re different sizes.’ ‘And the tiara?’ ‘What about it?’ ‘Real diamonds. Was it yours?’

‘It was my second party tiara. I kept it with my bleeding crown jewels.’ ‘You’d never seen it before?’ ‘No. I hadn’t. Still haven’t – except that drawing in the papers.’

Sarcasm.

‘I had a little paste thing.’ She glanced at the stub of her cigarette, now finished, took another one from the packet and lit it. ‘Nothing special. Got it from a shop in Brighton, in the Lanes. I offered it to Gina but she didn’t need it. Found something better, didn’t she?’

If a gang had planned this murder and stolen a tiara to order, or if they’d had one lying around after a robbery and decided to use it for fun, it was plausible – just – that they had given it to Beryl to pass on to the unfortunate Gina.

She just said that he wasn’t the most … gentlemanly. It’s not exactly news. They’re not all saints. There was something in his eyes, she said … But that’s all I knew, I swear.’

‘There’s something you’re not telling us. And if you don’t come clean, this won’t end well for you.’

We’ve talked to the char who cleaned at number forty-four. She’s admitted that room was used for occasional assignations by the agency. Gina Fonteyn somehow had the keys, but Perez was expecting you. Admit it – you gave the keys to her. You’d been there before and—’

Yelling at the witness never works.

‘I think you arranged where Gina Fonteyn was going to meet up with Dino Perez. Somewhere nice and quiet, without witnesses like a hotel clerk. I think you made sure you were out of it, but you let somebody else know too. There are some dangerous characters involved, Miss White.

Maybe there was money in it for you, or maybe you were just scared out of your wits, but you did something you’re ashamed of.

You need to be honest with us or we can’t protect you.’

Darbishire briefly wondered if he had another sandwich stuffed in his pocket and she thought it was a gun.

‘What dangerous characters? I don’t even know any. I mean, I know some, but none as would do this. Would they?

‘The place isn’t the same without Monty,’ he opined. Joan tried not to take it personally, but a treasured spaniel was one of the many things Fiona possessed and she did not.

So you keep an empty dog bed?

However, for what it was worth, Joan had an innate ability not only to find important documents in Fiona’s idiosyncratic horizontal filing system, but to put them back in places where other people – notably the private, deputy and press secretaries – could find them too.

Meanwhile, the only problem lay with the secretaries (lower case), who were once so friendly.

But since her elevation to a capital S, they looked on her with suspicion. The nicer she was to them, the more distant they became.

Normally I’d deal with it myself, but I know you suggested the girl personally and I thought you ought to know before any action was taken.’

Christ.

‘She’s frequently late. She’s cocky. She doesn’t know her limits. She almost made a complete hash of a sensitive issue in Washington, classic example, and I’ve only just rescued it. And—’ ‘I thought Hugh said she was flying through the filing and doing rather well.’

‘She said she discussed it with Jeremy, but he denies it. I’m afraid she can’t absolutely be relied upon to tell the truth. Another class trait, possibly.

Eye roll.

‘If you had spoken to her, Miles, she might have told you that I wrote a note following my discussion with the president last week. Mrs Eisenhower very kindly invited the duke and me to stay with them in the White House. I was touched by the gesture. It was a sign of our personal friendship.’

Dingdong.

‘Of course, I accepted. You didn’t see my note? I do hope you can talk to your man in Washington before the president does get to hear about the new arrangement. I’d hate us to look ungrateful.’

Tell him.

It was rare for Her Majesty to issue a rebuke, but when she did, she chose her words well. Silly and uncoordinated.

‘I hate to mention it, Miles, but she doesn’t actually work for you, she works for me.’

Deflate your big head sir.

Fiona, bless her, was rarely in by ten, but always looked divine when she arrived with her darling Monty. Joan, if anything, looked more frazzled and unkempt when she was late than when she crept in on time.

Double standard.

‘McGraw’s war record. Gross insubordination. Far worse than we might have imagined. I’m not surprised she doesn’t talk about it. I’m afraid, given what we know, we can’t possibly keep her in the Private Office after this.’ ‘May I see it?’

It would be the first time in five days that she’d finished before 9 p.m., but she didn’t mind this little delay – in fact, she was excited. There was a lot she wanted to discuss with Her Majesty if she got the chance.

Before arriving there, she had already been moved from Bletchley to Trent Park in Middlesex. At the latter, her role had been to interview senior German prisoners of war. She had been chosen because she was young and female, which instantly wrong-footed them and proved a good way of tripping them up.

She wasn’t pleased when an admiral at Naval Intelligence tasked her to assist Brigadier Yelland at his secret HQ in the spring of 1944, but the new job came with a promotion and the assurance that the high-ups in Whitehall were keeping an eye on her career.

But Yelland struggled with organisation and morale was at rock bottom under his command. Joan was drafted in as his assistant in the hope that a woman’s touch would smooth over any problems, without ruffling the sensitive feathers of the brigadier himself.

She was honoured to be involved, but Yelland was beyond help and didn’t want it. He was in the grip of a severe drinking problem and incapable of listening. He would make mistakes, blame others, alienate important people and retire to his room with a bottle of gin.

Ugh.

In the end, she jeopardised everything, made a secret trip to London, and took the biggest risk of her life. And paid the price, or so she thought. She had lost her job at the base, and any hope of a career.

You got out of a toxic environment.

‘General Eisenhower was aware something was wrong at Longmeadow,’ the Queen told her, folding the manila cover shut. ‘As I’m sure you know, several staff members had already complained through the proper channels. But you didn’t do that.’ ‘No, ma’am.’ ‘In fact, you took it upon yourself to go straight to Admiral Butt in Naval Intelligence, who reported what was going on directly to the prime minister. As a result of your trip, Yelland was sacked within forty-eight hours.’

Woof.

She had overstepped the mark, broken the rules by taking matters into her own hands, and shared secrets of national importance. She should have used official channels. She wasn’t to be trusted.

Sounds like dingus Mcgee should've been handled earlier.

‘Who was your immediate superior?’ Joan sighed. ‘Brigadier Yelland, ma’am.’

It’s odd, but there was a request for the Duke of Edinburgh to be escorted on his individual excursions – he’s making two of them, as you know – by a particular young lady from the Danish Embassy. I thought it was unusual, because of course she’s based here in London, not Copenhagen, so I double-checked with the duke’s private secretary and he said he knows nothing about it. The request certainly didn’t come from him.

Dalliance.

‘The thing is, ma’am, she’s very striking, this woman, Ingrid Kern. She has shining blonde hair, you know the sort, and I understand she stands out on the diplomatic circuit. Her presence would be noticed. People would ask questions, and as things stand, they’d be hard to answer.’

Prince Philip was known to have an eye for pretty women, especially blondes. Equally, they had an eye for him.

‘Because I don’t know who to trust, ma’am. Everyone in the Private Office seems incredibly dedicated, but … The way the text of your speech went missing in Paris – that just can’t happen.

But someone put that note in the file, ma’am. It was typed and unsigned. Before I go, do you want me to rescind it? Anyway, I thought you should know.’

Her father had always told her she needed to learn diplomacy, and she meant to, but what always tripped her up was a fierce regard for what felt right at the time, or what she thought that was, anyway, and she just couldn’t shake it.

In fact, I’d been meaning to ask you to do some work for me.’ She sat back and smiled faintly. ‘I wasn’t sure if you were ready, but it seems you’ve been doing it anyway. That makes things much easier.’

Suck it mustache.

Your act of gross insubordination.’ Joan said nothing. ‘For the good of the country.’