A Royal Pain (21 page)

“Hanni, for heaven’s sake never let anyone hear you talking like that, even in fun,” I said. “You are currently their only suspect in a murder.”

“They can’t pin the rap on me,” she said.

“No more gangster talk. I absolutely forbid it,” I said. “From now on you must act and sound like a princess at all times. You heard what the chief inspector said—wars have been started over less than this.”

“I just make joke, Georgie,” Hanni said, “because I am frightened.”

“I’m a little frightened myself,” I said. “But the police have gone now. We’re home and we’re safe and nothing else can go wrong tonight.”

My grandfather tapped on the door before opening it. “Baroness Rottenmeister, my lady,” he said in regal tones.

The baroness swept into the room like an avenging black angel, her cape streaming out behind her. If looks could kill, we’d have been sprawled on the carpet.

“What have you done, you silly girls?” she demanded in a booming voice. “The queen’s private secretary telephoned me. He wanted to discuss this morning’s tragedy. Naturally I knew no details because I wasn’t there. And then I find out that a man has been killed and the police suspect Her Highness.”

She glared at Hanni. “I leave you alone for two days. You beg me that you want to stay with Lady Georgiana. You tell me that she is responsible person and will take good care of you. And I believe you and think of my own comfort. Now I am deeply ashamed. My duty was at your side, even with the great inconveniences of living in this house. I should never have left you for one instant. I should have come to the party with you. I should have gone with you this morning and then none of this would have happened.”

“The young man would still be lying dead, whether we had found him or not,” I said. “And whether you had accompanied us or not.”

“What do I care if this young man is dead or not?” The baroness was purple with rage by now. Obviously her governess had never told her that a lady is always in control of her emotions. “I care for the honor of your family. I care for the honor of Germany.” Dramatic pause. “There is only one thing to do. I shall write to her father, asking for instructions, and I move back instantly to this house. I am willing to sacrifice my own comfort and happiness for the good of my royal family and my country.”

Anyone would have thought she was being asked to undertake an expedition to the North Pole and live on seal blubber. Rannoch House really isn’t that bad in summer.

“I am going to see Her Majesty as soon as she summons me,” I said. “She will decide the best course of action. It may be wiser if the princess goes home immediately.”

“No way,” Hanni said angrily.

“Hannelore, this has gone on long enough,” the baroness said. “You must remember you are a princess and speak and act like one from now on. Go up to your room immediately and write a letter to your father, apologizing for your thoughtless actions.” She lapsed into German at the end of this sentence, but I think that was the gist of it. Then she turned to me. “And you, Lady Georgiana, will be good enough to ask your cook to prepare a dinner that is kind to my digestion. Although with all this worry, I am sure I will not be able to swallow one mouthful.”

I went down to Mrs. Huggins in the kitchen.

“Kind to her digestion?” she asked, hands on her broad hips. “I didn’t notice much wrong with her digestion before. Knocked back everything she could lay her hands on, that one. A right pig, if you ask me. And in more ways than one. Ordering me and your granddad around as if she was the bleedin’ Queen of England. ‘You will do this and then you will do that.’ I felt like telling her she was the foreigner here and London is my town and I don’t let nobody speak to me like I’m dirt.”

“Quite right, Mrs. Huggins,” I said. “I know it’s awful and I’m terribly grateful for everything. You’ve been an absolute brick. And your cooking has been splendid.”

She blushed modestly. “Well, thank you kindly, your ladyship. Happy to do it, I’m sure. But can you tell me how much longer we’re going to be expected to keep this up? Yer granddad is getting restless for his garden and his routine at home. He don’t say nothing because he’d do anything in the world for you, but I can tell it’s all getting his goat.”

“Let’s hope it’s coming to an end, Mrs. Huggins,” I said.

“It’s not the housework and the cooking I mind,” she went on. “I’ve never minded hard work in my life. Used to it, you see. But it’s these people. Herself with the face like the back end of a bus, and that maid person, Fireguard or whatever her name is, creeping around, never saying a word, just staring at us when we speak good English to her. And then there’s that Mildred what you hired. Right stuck up, she is. Coming down here and telling us how much better everything was in the posh houses she’s been in. ‘You can’t get much posher than her ladyship,’ I told her. ‘Related to the royals. If there was another of them flu epidemics and the lot of them died off, she might find herself queen one day, and don’t you forget it.’ ”

I smiled at her fondly. “Don’t wish that on me,” I said. “Besides, it would have to be an awfully large flu epidemic. I’m only thirty-forth in line to the throne.”

“Anyway, what I’m saying is, we’ll stick it out for you, but it better not be for much longer.”

“I do understand, Mrs. Huggins,” I said. “I feel rather the same way myself. The princess is a delightful person in many ways, but it’s like looking after a naughty puppy. You never know what she’s going to do next. And she doesn’t have a clue about what is proper and what isn’t.”

I looked up guiltily as I heard footsteps but it was only my grandfather.

“So we’ve got the old dragon back here again, I see,” he muttered. “I’ve just had to carry up her great pile of baggage. What on earth does she want all that stuff for? I’ve only ever seen her in black. And was she in a bad temper! Do this, and not like that. It was all I could do to hold my tongue. I tell you this, Georgie love, I’m not cut out to be nobody’s servant. Never was.”

“It really won’t be for long now, Granddad. I’ve spoken with the palace and I’ve an audience with Her Majesty tomorrow.”

“The sooner that lot is shipped back to Germany, the better, that’s what I say,” Mrs. Huggins muttered. “And good riddance to ’em.”

“I have to confess I’ll be relieved to see them go,” I said. “But about dinner tonight. Could you possibly cook something that’s kind to the baroness’s digestion?”

“What about a nice set of pig’s trotters?” she asked. I couldn’t tell whether she was being funny or not, having never eaten the said part of the pig.

Before I could answer, my grandfather dug her in the ribs. “Give over, ’ettie,” he said and Mrs. Huggins broke into wheezy chuckles. “Or a nice plate of jellied eels?” she went on.

“If she wants something nourishing, then how about liver and bacon?” Granddad said when her laughter had died down. “Nobody can complain about liver and bacon. About as nourishing as you can get, that is. And a milk pudding to follow?”

“Right you are,” Mrs. Huggins said. “All right with you, me lady?”

“Perfect,” I said.

As I went to walk upstairs to our part of the house, my grandfather followed me. “So what did the inspector want?” he asked quietly. “Just routine, was it?”

“Anything but routine.” I sighed. “He seems to think we may have caused a major international incident. If the princess is linked to a communist plot of some kind and the German government is anti-communist and pro-fascist, they may see this as an affront. Trying to convert their princess to the opposition, so to speak.”

“Bloody stupid,” Granddad muttered, then looked up at me with a guilty expression on his face. “Pardon the swearing. It just slipped out. So they think this man’s death is somehow linked to communist activities, do they?”

“He was an active member of the Communist Party.”

“Well, I never. Your German princess certainly picks ’em, don’t she? Where on earth did you meet a communist?”

“In Hyde Park, at Speakers’ Corner, and then again at that party.”

“The party where the bloke fell off the balcony?”

“That’s the one.”

“Dear me,” he said. “Makes you wonder if there’s a link between the two deaths, don’t it?”

“There can’t possibly be. I was standing there, Granddad. I saw Tubby stagger backward, very drunk, and fall through the railings. I saw it.”

“And this Tubby bloke. Was he also a communist?”

I laughed. “Good Lord, no. His family owns half of Shropshire.”

“If you say so, love. But I can tell you this. When I was on the force, I’d have had a good look at that party, who was there and what was going on. You’ll probably find out that this killing has nothing to do with communism. Probably something much more everyday than that—the young man got himself mixed up with the wrong crowd, that’s what I’d guess.”

“Then let’s hope the police find that out quickly,” I said. “It would be a huge relief to me.” I paused, then a thought struck me. “Is there anything you can do, Granddad? I know you’ve been off the force for a while, but you must still know people. And you used to work that part of London, didn’t you? Couldn’t you ask some questions and find out if there are any gang rumors going around?”

“I don’t know about that,” Granddad said. “It’s been a long while, ducks, and I’m pretty much tied down waiting on those Deutschy ladies of yours.”

“Yes, I know you are. But all may be well by tomorrow. The queen may decide to send them home straight away, or she may bring them to the palace and we can all breathe again.”

“Let’s hope so, love,” he said. “Let us hope so.”

I went upstairs to change for dinner. I stood in my room listening to the sounds of the square outside my open windows. There were children playing in the central garden. I could hear their high little voices mingling with birdsong and the muted sounds of traffic. It all sounded so happy and normal and safe. And yet those newspaper reporters were still lingering by the railings, reminding me that nothing was normal and safe at all. Why did we have to time our visit to the bookstore so unluckily as to arrive at that critical moment? Moments earlier and perhaps we could have prevented Sidney from being killed. Moments later and someone else would have found the body.

I paused and considered this. Had the murderer timed his killing to coincide with our arrival, thus putting suspicion on us? What if he were a friend or acquaintance of Sidney Roberts and Sidney had confided to him that a foreign princess was going to be visiting him that morning? It would be the sort of thing one might brag about. Maybe Sidney had even mentioned it at the café and someone had overheard.

The beggar at the end of the alley hadn’t seen anyone, either entering or leaving that street before us. What if the killer was already there, working in one of the adjacent buildings, maybe? All he’d have to do is to come into the bookshop when no one was looking, which would have been easy enough, then wait until he spotted us turning into the street before doing the deed and slipping out again and into the building next door. Nobody would have noticed, especially if he worked on the street and was habitually seen coming and going. We wouldn’t have seen him because we were reading the signs on the various shops as we came. And if we had glimpsed him, we were looking for a bookshop, not a person. He would have still gone unnoticed.

That’s what the police should be doing—questioning those who worked in the buildings around the bookshop. I should also suggest maybe that Granddad ask his own questions there. I could even go and ferret around myself if I could get rid of the princess and—wait a minute. What business was this of mine? It was up to the police to solve the crime. I had been an innocent bystander. I had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Then why was my stomach twisting itself into knots? I had the police hounding me, the baroness bullying me, and an imminent interview with the queen during which she’d probably tell me how extremely displeased with me she was. If I were sensible, I’d catch the next train to Scotland and leave them all to sort it out without me. But then a Rannoch never runs. This was another of the words of wisdom instilled in me at an early age by my nanny and then my governess. It went along with tales of Rannochs past who stood their ground when hordes of English charged at them, or hordes of Turks, French or Germans, depending on the battlefield. All the stories ended with the particular Rannochbeing hacked to pieces, so were not exactly uplifting in their moral.

What would a Rannoch do now, I wondered. Allow herself to be bullied by a German baroness, a smirking policeman, or the Queen of England? If I had my trusty claymore, I’d dispatch the whole lot of them with a single stroke, I thought, and smiled to myself. It was about time I learned to stand up for myself and let these people know that a Rannoch cannot be bullied.

I jumped as there was a tap on my bedroom door.

“You’re wanted on the telephone,” my grandfather said in a low voice, because Mildred was hovering somewhere close by. “The palace.”