Ash (36 page)

‘Is the monarchy still involved?’

Gloria nodded grimly. ‘You see, although there have been many hushed-up royal scandals throughout the ages, sometimes even minor characters – let’s call them bit-part players – might easily have caused irreparable damage to the Crown’s reputation. You remember the man called Michael Fagan?’

Kate searched her memory for a moment or two. ‘Fagan. Yes, wasn’t he the trespasser who got into Queen Elizabeth’s bedroom, with the Queen herself inside? That was several years ago, wasn’t it?’

‘July 1982.’

‘They put it down to a freak circumstance and failed security.’

‘Oh, it was that all right. The Buckingham Palace chief of security was quietly moved on some time later.’

‘But how could that harm the Queen’s reputation? If anything, she was praised for her clear-mindedness and courage.’

‘Rightly so. She acted perfectly, no panic whatsoever. But do you really believe a perfect stranger could break into the grounds of the Palace, and then into the building itself with so many guards and police officers protecting the place?’

‘Well, I must admit that at the time I found it all a bit strange. So what was the truth, Glo?’

Gloria sighed uncomfortably. ‘The Palace is well run, its head staff and guards are marvellous at what they do. Unfortunately, some of the below-stairs staff, valets, servants, many of them gay, are known to have little “jollies” from time to time to which both sexual partners and rent boys are invited. The Queen’s Guard barracks, which are not far away, is a hunting ground to find fit young men who are only too eager for a good time. Don’t frown, Kate. It’s not unknown for the House of Commons and House of Lords to be used for similar frivolities.’

She paused. It was evident that Gloria was uneasy about telling her friend of these activities.

‘You really can trust me,’ Kate assured the policewoman quietly. ‘I promise none of this will go any further.’

Gloria rallied. ‘Now there’s no suggestion Fagan was gay – he might have just been a friend of someone who thought a party in one of the staff’s living quarters would be great fun. But here’s the thing: Michael Fagan was never charged for breaking and entering, let alone entering the Queen’s bedroom uninvited. He was later accused of stealing half a bottle of wine, but that was dropped when he was committed for psychiatric evaluation. In other words, he was let off with a slap on the wrist. I think that’s because a deal was done. For his silence about the “below-stairs” shenanigans, he got off scot-free, more or less.’

Gloria sat back in her chair to give Kate time to digest the information.

‘I remember asking myself what had happened to Fagan,’ Kate said slowly. ‘The result was all played down, very low-key, wasn’t it?’

‘That’s right. It was thought to be the best policy at the time.’

‘Rather than honesty?’

‘Of course.’

It was a simple reply and, although Kate was adult enough to know that in government there were little lies and big lies, she hoped her friend hadn’t become hardened to them.

‘You told me you could give me
some
instances . . .’ Kate let the statement hang in the air between them.

‘Right,’ the policewoman came back briskly. ‘But I’ll keep the next one short. There are more important things which involve Comraich Castle. Now, I’m sure you’ve heard of Paul Burrell, Princess Diana’s “rock”, as he liked to consider himself.’

‘He was the princess’s butler before her tragic accident in Paris.’

Gloria eyed her old friend in a way that made Kate shudder inside.

The policewoman said without a hint of irony, ‘Let’s not go down that particular road, shall we?’ leaving the Institute’s director wondering if the pun was intended.

Gloria was giving nothing more away, and the cold stare dissolved. ‘Sorry. Yes, Burrell was her butler, but claimed to be much more to the late princess: general factotum, shoulder to cry on, the one who helped smuggle her various lovers into Kensington Palace, and most of all – her
confidant
. Yet when Diana died, Burrell was accused of stealing expensive gifts she’d acquired either on her travels, or from admirers. The police searched his home and found many of them gathering dust in his attic. He maintained Diana had given them all to him to keep for her.

‘Thin story,’ Gloria said, smiling a little, ‘because if she’s dead, who or what was he keeping them for? At any rate, he swore his story was true, but he was still put in the dock. His time there lasted no more than a week, and it soon became evident that some interesting, even salacious stories about the royals and their coterie were going to be made public by Burrell. In fact, his defence counsel could hardly wait to get started.’

‘Ah yes,’ put in Kate, ‘this I do recall very clearly. The whole case against Paul Burrell was mystifyingly dropped when the Queen herself rang the court to say she now remembered the accused had once mentioned to her that Princess Diana had asked him to keep some items in store for her.’

‘That was it. Most people had suspicions about the timing. Burrell knew too many well-kept secrets concerning the royal family and, led by his own defence barrister, was prepared to reveal all in court. Metaphorically speaking, he knew where the bodies were buried. Both the Crown and the prosecutor were alarmed when they realized where his testimony was going and the case was hastily dropped. Ill-repute is not easy for the monarchy to deal with. Heaven knows, they’d had enough problems with Sarah Ferguson, Andrew’s ex-wife and her various flirtations and business capers, which left her virtually bankrupt and her ex-husband to bail her out at least twice. But now, the family, or the “Firm” as they call themselves, have become vulnerable, even less respected by the anti-monarchists, and by many of the ordinary people. Only the Queen’s outstanding personal and public popularity and reputation, along with that of the late Queen Mother, has maintained the standing of the royal family. She’s aware that the monarchy has to modernize, has to live in today’s world, otherwise it will sink. Her problem is how to do that, yet keep that royal mystique.’

‘No mean task these days.’

‘No, and our sovereign is ageing, although she rarely lets her weariness show. Incidentally, Katie, it’s my firm conviction Charles will make a fine king, when and
if
he finally takes the Crown. Today’s media enjoy bringing people down a notch or two, but believe me, he’s a man of much capability and, more importantly, you might say, he has “soul”. Yet he also has a spine of steel. Never underestimate him. He also has two terrific sons who, eventually, will help him carry out his duties.’

‘We’re kind of digressing, Glo.’ Kate was impatient to get to the other, perhaps even more relevant matters that the policewoman was leading up to. ‘I take it the Inner Court plays a part in all this in some way. Does it have some kind of hold over the Crown?’

‘Oh, it would deny that completely. It has no power. What it does have is
influence
, and that’s because its members know too many secrets of both the Crown and the Establishment.’ Gloria drew in a breath.

‘The first time royalty used the Inner Court was for a reason that most people would find unacceptable. This was the case of poor Prince John. It was shortly after the turn of the last century, when the British Empire was at its height. King George V and Queen Mary hadn’t long succeeded to the throne, and the Great War was looming. One of their children, young Prince Johnnie, had epilepsy, which was considered an unacceptable abnormality then. Johnnie was an embarrassment to the Crown at a time when it needed to be seen as strong. The Inner Court had an isolated castle in Scotland and its members offered to give the young prince refuge there. The offer was reluctantly accepted and the boy and his nanny were sent to Comraich Castle, where he lived privately but in comfort until he died aged thirteen in 1919.’

Kate’s eyes were downcast. ‘A sad story,’ she said.

‘Well,’ Gloria went on, ‘the Inner Court then made itself useful in other ways too. That’s how they got a grip on royalty in the first place.’

‘What do you mean?’ This Inner Court was becoming more sinister to Kate by the moment.

‘Aah.’ It was almost a groan. ‘Let’s just say that the organization has many informers – spies, if you like – some of them in the Palace. And, as they rightly say, information is power, as is influence.’

With a smile on a face that had lost its bloom, Gloria gave a shake of her head. ‘You know, the current royals have sought assistance from the Inner Court too. There are no good guys here.’

‘I can’t believe Queen Elizabeth was ever involved in any skulduggery.’

Gloria merely smiled again.

After a beat, she said, ‘I hate to shatter your illusions. But she’s no fool and she must be tough as old boots by now, truth be known.’

She held up a hand to forestall the protest Kate was about to make.

‘Remember,’ she went on hurriedly, ‘the Queen is surrounded by aides and knighted private secretaries and advisors and such. She has direct access to the top military brass, heads of national security, defence, and foreign policy. And there’s Prince Philip, who remains as sharp as a razor blade, despite his age.’

‘Even so,’ Kate insisted, ‘I can’t see Her Majesty being involved in underhand practices.’

‘Not even for the good of the nation?’

‘Well . . .’

‘Let me tell you about something that has always been dismissed as a foolish conspiracy theory. It happened a long time ago, I’ll admit, under the morally impeccable reign of Queen Victoria. Since then the waters have been deliberately muddied, false claims have come to the surface, and fanciful stories have been perpetuated.’

‘I’m listening.’ Kate wore a look of tolerance.

‘Jack the Ripper . . .’

‘Oh, come on, Glo. All kinds of legends have been told about
him
.’

‘And one of the more popular tales has a smidgen of truth to it, as they generally do.’

‘One of Queen Victoria’s sons, wasn’t it?’ Kate was mildly scornful. ‘Or her own doctor? Certainly a doctor of some kind.’

Gloria surprised Kate by saying, ‘You’re closer than you might think. I could give you a list of suspects who’ve been named over the years: John Pizer, Walter Sickert, Aaron Kosminski and, yes, even Queen Victoria’s surgeon, Sir William Gull . . . the list goes on. But all were false.’

‘How do we know that?’

‘Because the Ripper
was
discovered. Queen Victoria herself ordered further investigation to be called off and the gruesome murders ceased.’

‘Then she knew who . . . ?’

Gloria nodded just once. ‘Victoria had nine children, four of them boys. One of her sons – I think it was Alfred, but it’s irrelevant now – was very interested in psychology and had studied the work of Sigmund Freud. He had an American friend called Henshaw, who was fascinated by both Freud and Jung. In his own country, the young American was referred to as an alienist, before psychiatry became more respectable. It’s said Henshaw helped Victoria’s son through mental and emotional turmoil and became a kind of mentor to him.

‘But the reality was that Aaron Henshaw was himself a schizophrenic, who blamed East End prostitutes for luring his royal friend into sordid sexual practices. So he spent dark evenings wandering the dangerous streets of Whitechapel seeking out lone prostitutes. He accounted for seven victims in all.

‘Fortunately or unfortunately, whichever way you look at it, he confessed to his royal friend, who was horrified. Henshaw let it be known he’d secreted away the damning case notes he’d made on Queen Victoria’s debauched son. That was her personal dilemma.

‘This was where the Inner Court offered its services. The alienist was taken to Scotland and ensconced in Comraich Castle, never to be seen or heard from again.’

‘But he must have had relatives in America or friends in London, who enquired after him.’

‘No doubt they did, but I can only guess they were fobbed off with a story that he’d been killed in an accident or from some unforeseen and rapidly terminal illness.’

Kate McCarrick sat back in her seat, took a deep breath and tried to relax. She wondered what she’d got David Ash into. Her friend seemed just as unhappy.

‘The prince wasn’t anxious about his friend?’

‘Not until he heard of Henshaw’s crimes,’ the policewoman replied. ‘And Queen Victoria was very domineering, don’t forget, even with –
especially
with – her own children. As well as highly moral. Can you imagine her shock when she discovered the truth? Her first instinct was to have the alienist quietly assassinated. It was only at her son’s bidding that she didn’t, although who knows how long the Ripper was allowed to live on at Comraich?’

Kate noticed her friend’s glass was nearly empty again and she thought another drink might just ease the tension. She was a little surprised when her friend, who was no great drinker, accepted the offer.

Kate rightly guessed that Glo had more to tell.

Much more . . . but it would take a little more time.

Ash felt the air rush from his body, but he also felt the life leave the man beneath him; the Serb general had unintentionally cushioned Ash from the worst of the impact when the ancient lift had crashed through to the second lower basement. This was Comraich Castle’s secret heart.

Ash suddenly remembered Haelstrom’s precise words:
Underground is our containment area. It’s where we keep our lunatics . . .

He groaned as he tried to move, one of Lukovic’s dead arms locked around his back. Thick dust filled the air, making it difficult for Ash to draw in the breath that had been knocked out of his shocked body. The thick swirling particles also made it difficult to see clearly and the thunderous crash of the lift slamming into the concrete base of the shaft had momentarily deafened him.

Ash slowly managed to turn his head and could just make out the mangled wreckage of the lift cage around him, the twisted ceiling V-shaped to a point no more than a foot-and-a-half above him. The wooden outer door had blasted open, and through the mangled safety grille he could see that the base of the crumpled car had come to rest a couple of feet below floor level.