Death and the Princess Read Free Page A

down in his desk, the way he had when getting ready for a good old natter; ‘it’s a compliment in a way that we think you’re up to it. Well now, do you remember old Snobby Driscoll?’
    I let out a great burst of laughter, and immediately sat easier in my chair. ‘Now you’re getting more into my line of country! Do I remember Snobby Driscoll! Matter of fact, I sent him up for his most recent term.’
    ‘Did you now? Get to know him at all?’
    ‘Socially? Only the sort of acquaintanceship that is forged on a journey from Curzon Street to the Yard. Him not having the full use of his hands. We talked about the world situation, as far as I remember. He spent the time lamenting the fact that the country was no longer run by gentlemen.’
    ‘That’s old Snobby. Tory to the backbone.’
    ‘A good old nineteenth-century patriot, that much I did gather. He’d do anything for his country except stop robbing the richer members of it. Said things had gone to the dogs since they abolished hanging. It gave the whole trip a weird sense of unreality. They don’t breed ’em like that anymore — a real character, in a ghastly sort of way. What in God’s name has Snobby got to do with all this? You said did I remember? . . .’
    ‘Right. Gone to meet the Eternal Lord Chief Justice. Died in Brixton, matter of three weeks ago.’
    ‘And thereby, I suppose, hangs a tale.’
    ‘Maybe. And there again, maybe not. But one thing’s for sure, we can’t take any-chances over this one. Well now, he may not have got on to it during your little drive, but among his other foibles he was devoted to the Royal Family.’
    ‘Figures.’
    ‘Yes — but this was a real passionate thing. Dated from the war. He was an East Ender, of course, and they were bombed . . .’
    ‘I get you. The Queen Mum came visiting and flapped a friendly boa in his direction.’
    ‘You’ve got it in one. She was Queen then, of course. She took a cuppa with his old mum, and had a cosy jaw about her sons in Parkhurst, Broadmoor and the Colchester glasshouse. Since then Snobby was to be seen at any Royal occasion he happened to be out for, cheering like crazy and waving five or six Union Jacks.’
    ‘They don’t,’ I said again, ‘make ’em like that anymore. Well, what’s the score? Don’t tell me he left his hoard of upper-crust loot to little Princess Helena.’
    ‘I don’t think Snobby would have thought that quite the thing. No, what happened was that as he was dying — it was cancer, by the by, and he was drugged, but as far as we can gather he was entirely compos mentis — he sent for the Governor, told the orderlies he wanted to give him an important message.’
    ‘I’m getting the same sense of unreality I had on that car ride back to the Yard.’
    ‘Point taken. I had the same reaction myself. Well, what old Snobby said was: “Tell them to take care of Princess Helena. There’s something up. Something nasty. Tell them they’ve got to keep an eye on her.” ’
    ‘End of message? Normal service will not be resumed?’
    ‘Pretty much so. The Governor tried to get more out of him, but it was no go. Snobby wasn’t one to grass as a general rule, and they don’t trust the governors these days like they used to trust the old brigade. They know they’re just Home Office stooges.’
    ‘Well,’ I said, not overly impressed, ‘it’s a pretty thin tale as it stands. What was it supposed to be about? Some kind of terrorist plot?’
    ‘That was our first thought: the IRA, or one of thePeople’s Armies for the liberation of the suffering masses, whether they like it or not. And naturally we doubled the security, as unobtrusively as we could. Still, when we came to think it over, it didn’t seem likely. What kind of connection could there have been between the IRA and old Snobby Driscoll? If he’d had his way the buggers would never have been given Home Rule. Same with your Red Army mob. Snobby wouldn’t have let one of them so