The King's Prerogative

by Iain Colvin

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I’ll tell you back at the hotel, but we don’t have long, we need to be quick.’

  Lynn stood her ground. ‘Craig, for God’s sake, what is wrong with you? You’ve been like a cat on hot bricks since we got here. I know this has all been a lot to take in but will you please just calm down?’

  Craig realised that she wasn’t moving until he explained himself.

  ‘Lynn, did nothing about that conversation seem odd to you?’

  ‘Odd in what way, specifically? Craig, this whole thing is odd. Or is this how you normally spend your time?’

  ‘Odd as in I can smell bullshit. I could smell it off that policeman Wilson and I could smell it off Commander Anson.’

  ‘Oh come on. You just don’t trust anybody, that’s your big problem.’

  ‘No Lynn, I trust you. And I trust Fiona.’

  Lynn looked at him. She looked up at the sky, then relaxed her shoulders and sighed. ‘Okay, what is it about Commander Anson that’s got your hackles up?’

  ‘His story was wrong.’

  ‘Which part? It seemed logical to me.’

  ‘Well first of all, you could have knocked me down with a feather when the professor told us that he’d seen the original peace offer brought by Hess in 1941.’

  ‘Me too, but it just shows that we’ve come to the right man. He knows what he’s talking about.’

  ‘No Lynn, that’s just it. He doesn’t.’

  ‘You’re making no sense.’

  ‘Hess jumped out of an aeroplane flying at 200 miles an hour. All he had were the clothes he had on, the things in his pockets, and his parachute. His plane crashed and burned to a crisp.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘In which pocket did he have the peace document, then?’

  Lynn opened her mouth to speak then shut it again.

  ‘Good God,’ she finally mouthed as the realisation struck her. ‘He couldn’t have had, it would have been too large.’

  ‘Exactly. He might have had it in his plane with him but it would have been destroyed in the crash.’

  ‘But it could have been in some kind of a metal fireproof container that survived the crash.’

  ‘Why would it have been? Hess thought he was going to land at Dungavel. He would have never bargained on baling out of his plane then recovering the peace offer from the wreckage. He arranged to have a copy sent to the Swedish Consulate in advance purely as contingency for any eventuality. Brian Irving said that Hess was a meticulous man. He planned to the last detail.’

  ‘Apart from jumping out of his plane at 200 miles per hour.’

  ‘Quite.’ He looked around. ‘Listen Lynn, can we get moving, we need to get out of here.’ He took her arm and they crossed the street, heading back to their hotel. As they walked, Craig continued talking.

  ‘And as for Commander Anson, I’ve no doubt that he is who he says he is, but what he said didn’t ring true either.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like, he seemed to know all about Claire’s murder on the one hand, but he was quick to disconnect her murder with the documents. And I still say that the whole intelligence sting theory is a cover-up. That smelled like bullshit to me.’

  ‘But Craig, he’s in a position to know the truth. Why wouldn’t he tell you the facts as they are?’

  ‘He was hiding something Lynn. And did you notice how easily he made himself comfortable in the professor’s study?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t he?’

  ‘What I’m saying is, it looked to me as if he was used to being there.’

  ‘So, what if he was?’

  ‘He did all he could to emphasise that theirs was a casual relationship from long ago, don and student. It didn’t seem that way to me. Words and figures differed. All he wanted was to get his hands on my documents.’

  ‘And now he has.’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘What?’

  Craig stopped, opened his holdall and pulled out a ream of old papers.

  ‘Jesus, Craig! That’s the peace document! How…. What….?’

  ‘I switched them when the professor went out. As you said, my hackles were up. Call it my natural banker’s aversion to risk. I hoped I wouldn’t have to use them.’

  ‘What does Commander Anson have?’

  ‘A pile of old music sheets I bought yesterday. I had to fold some to the right size but they were a pretty good fit. I put the cover page from the peace document on top and tied the ribbon round them. I hoped that with only a casual glance Anson wouldn’t suspect. The professor had already read the document from cover to cover so I knew he wouldn’t look again. I had to gamble that Anson wouldn’t untie the ribbon and look through each page.’

  ‘But why music sheets?’

  ‘No reason in particular. I just saw them and they were roughly the same age as the original document. A ream of new paper would have looked like a ream of new paper, even edge on.’

  Lynn looked at him in disbelief. ‘And what would you have done if the professor hadn’t left the office? How would you have switched the papers then?’

  ‘I would have thought of something. A diversion.’

  Lynn looked up to the heavens.

  ‘You know they’ll find out soon enough? Good God Craig, what will you do now?’

  ‘I’ll take my chances with the police, I have to. But not here, I’d rather face them on home turf.’

  ‘We need to check out of the hotel.’

  ‘I know.’

  They got back to the hotel and went into their rooms to pack their things, which took all of three minutes to do. They paid their bill, handed in their keys and were back out onto the street within ten minutes, hurrying the short distance to the railway station. It was too early for the routine business commute but the station was busy with students heading home for the weekend. Small groups of them stood around their bags and rucksacks while others made their way towards the platforms to catch trains. Craig looked at the departures board, hoping to see an imminent departure for Edinburgh, or even Glasgow. Then he remembered that they had changed at Peterborough on the way down and there was little chance that they’d get a direct train to Scotland. He was scanning the boards looking for a Peterborough train when Lynn grabbed his arm.

  ‘Craig, we need to go. NOW!’ She pulled his sleeve in the direction of the nearest platform. Craig saw genuine alarm in Lynn’s eyes so he followed her without question. A crowd of passengers was going through a gate manned by a lone British Rail official in a dark grey uniform and a small peaked cap. Lynn tagged along with a big group of students who were jostling their way through the gate, and she and Craig reached the platform without being challenged. They boarded a train that was idling at the edge of the platform and walked through the carriages till they found two free seats together. It was only after they sat down that Craig asked a neighbour where the train was heading.

  ‘King’s Cross.’

  Craig turned to Lynn, who was panting and out of breath. ‘Looks like we’re going to London,’ he said.

  A minute later the train’s diesel engine growled and it started to move. Lynn eyed the platform as it slowly went past the window.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Craig, when Lynn had recovered her composure.

  ‘I saw Anson come into the station with another man.’

  ‘What other man?’

  ‘I didn’t recognise him, but they weren’t heading for a train. They were looking around them, scanning faces in the crowd. They were looking for us.’

  ‘Christ. Oh Lynn, I’m so sorry I’ve got you involved in all of this.’ Seeing Lynn’s panic had reminded him of the sick, paralysing fear he’d experienced when he jumped out of Blake’s car. He knew what it felt like and it didn’t feel good.

  Lynn stared out of the window, not looking at the scenery. Craig said nothing more. What more was there to say? Despite knowing deep down that what he’d done in Clive Prior’s study was justified – in his mind anywa
y – he couldn’t help feeling guilty. Maybe he should have come to Cambridge alone.

  Lynn finally looked at him. ‘Do you know what it is that troubles me the most?’

  Craig thought, Oh God here comes another list of my shortcomings, but instead just asked ‘What?’

  ‘There was no logical explanation for me feeling scared like that. It’s not as if we’ve broken any laws. I just knew that I was scared and I had to get out of there.’

  ‘I know how that feels, Lynn.’ Craig felt relieved that he wasn’t the target of a tirade. ‘And you’re right, we haven’t broken any laws. I don’t know about you but I’m pissed off with people making me feel like I’m a criminal.’

  At last Lynn smiled. ‘Thanks Craig.’ A fear shared is a fear halved, she thought. ‘So, London it is. Then what?’

  ‘Well, I suppose I should check in with my parents, they’ll be mortified that I’m in the papers. They won’t be able to show their faces in public again.’

  A second later they both burst out laughing at the ludicrousness of Craig’s comment, and although it was unspoken, they both knew that they needed the safety valve.

  They bought their tickets from the inspector on the train which meant that when the train arrived at King’s Cross getting through the barriers presented no difficulty. It was a massive station and people were bustling everywhere. No one dawdled, every passenger in the station seemed to be on a mission and knew where they were going. Craig looked at his watch. It was ten to four. Just coming up to the rush hour.

  ‘You go and phone your parents, I’ll see if I can get us a hire car,’ said Lynn. ‘I don’t feel like any more trains, do you?’

  ‘It probably makes sense if we have MI5 or whoever Commander Anson works for, on our tail.’ Craig gave a nervous laugh and wished he hadn’t said that. Lynn didn’t seem to mind the faux pas though. Craig quickly changed tack. ‘Are you okay to drive back to Edinburgh?’

  ‘God yes, and anyway, I assume you can drive too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good, we can split the driving. We should have hired a car in Edinburgh, but hindsight’s got twenty-twenty vision I suppose. I’ll get you at the café over there when you’re done.’ She pointed at a large sandwich shop-cum-café on the other side of the concourse and with that, she disappeared through the throng of people exiting the station. Craig found a bank of payphones and waited a couple of minutes until one became free. He took out his phone card, inserted it into the slot, picked up the receiver and dialled his parents’ number.

  After four rings the phone answered and Craig was surprised to hear his dad’s voice. He must have taken time off work.

  ‘Hello 3598?’

  ‘Hello, Dad?’

  ‘Craig! Oh son, thank God you’ve phoned,’ said Peter Dunlop.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘What’s happened? You’re all over the newspapers that’s what’s happened. Your mum’s in a right state.’

  ‘I know, Dad. Listen, I’m sorry.’

  ‘I thought you said you were going to the police?’

  ‘I was. I mean I am. I just had to do something first. I need to ask you something.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Did you tell the police I had gone to see a literary agent in Edinburgh?’

  His father was quiet for a moment. ‘No Craig, I didn’t. Why?’

  ‘Because the police turned up at her office the following day.’

  There was another pause at the other end.

  ‘Dad?’

  ‘I’m still here, son. I’ve got some information to pass on. We’ve had lots of phone calls since your name was in the paper, as you can imagine.’

  ‘Yes, I know, I’m really sorry Dad, I’ll sort it out. I’m going to hand myself into the police as soon as I get back.’

  ‘No, wait a minute. We got a visitor here yesterday looking for you.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. He said his name was Brian Irving.’

  Craig thought he had misheard what his father had said. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Brian Irving was here, asking for you.’

  Craig found it difficult to connect his brain to his mouth momentarily.

  ‘Craig?’

  ‘Yes Dad, I’m still here. Are you sure it was him?’

  ‘He seemed to know all about what you spoke to him about, if that’s what you mean. And he had your grandad’s letter on him.’

  Craig’s mouth suddenly reconnected to his thought process. ‘What did he say? Where has he been? Why was he in Stranraer?’

  ‘He saw your name in the paper, and he was here to return the letter. I have it here.’

  ‘Did he say where he’s been all this time?’

  ‘He said he’s found out a great deal. He needs to speak to you urgently. He left a number for you to call. Hold on.’ There was a long pause then Peter Dunlop read out a telephone number, slowly and deliberately. ‘It’s 0487 3179. Got it?’

  ‘Got it Dad, thanks.’ He scribbled the number down on the back of his train ticket. ‘0487 3179.’

  ‘That’s it. And Craig, I bumped into one of your friends from the bank. He said not to worry about that big cash difference. They found it in the teller’s book.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘They found the cash difference. It was a clerical error.

  ‘Dad, what are you talking about?’

  ‘I have to go, I hear your mum calling on me. Phone us later, won’t you?’

  The phone went dead. Craig was left holding his receiver but talking to no one. He looked at it as if he expected the telephone to provide an answer to what had just happened. What was his dad on about? He shook his head, replaced the receiver and took out his card. He thought for a moment, then reversed the operation. He put the card back in and picked up the receiver. He dialled the number he’d written on his train ticket and waited for a response.

  ‘Hello?’ An English voice answered, not dissimilar to that of the professor.

  ‘Hello, I’m looking for Brian Irving please?’

  ‘There’s no one of that name here.’

  ‘Doctor Brian Irving?’

  ‘You must have the wrong number, this isn’t the surgery.’

  ‘No, sorry, you’ve misunderstood me.’ Craig tried a different approach. ‘Where is that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Where are you speaking from?’

  ‘What are you, an idiot? I’m in my house. Who are you, what do you want?’

  ‘I’m really sorry, what town are you in?’

  ‘Town? Warboys is a village.’

  ‘Warboys?’

  ‘Yes, Warboys, where did you think you were calling? I’ve had enough of this. Damned nuisance …’

  ‘No sir, wait, please don’t hang up. Excuse me, I was given your number, obviously in error. Can you tell me where Warboys is?’

  ‘Where is it? It’s in Cambridgeshire, between Cambridge and Peterborough. Good day.’ The phone once again went dead, and Craig was even more puzzled than before.

  He phoned his parents’ number again and again his dad answered.

  ‘Dad, was that number you gave me correct?’

  ‘Yes, it was.’

  ‘But I rang…’

  ‘Craig, it’s 0487 3179.’ And with that he put the phone down.

  Craig retrieved his phone card and walked towards the café at the other side of the station, completely bemused.

  Chapter 34

  Craig looked around the café to see if he could spot Lynn but there was no sign of her, so instead he found a free table and sat down. A waitress took his order and came back a few minutes later with a coffee and a rather sorry looking cheese and ham sandwich. He was half way through the sandwich when Lynn appeared and sat down opposite him.

  ‘All sorted,’ she said. ‘I hired a car for the whole week. I thought I might as well do that seeing as my own jalopy is in the garage. I can drop it off at their office in Edinburgh next Friday. It’s a Cavalier so
you should have enough leg room.’ She looked around the café. ‘I’m parched, is this waitress service or do you order at the counter?’

  It was obvious to Craig that Lynn had gone into organisational mode once again. She attracted the waitress’s attention and ordered tea and some quiche Lorraine. She finally asked Craig how things were at home.

  ‘Fine, well, apart from the fact that as expected my parents are having a meltdown. But wait till you hear this. Brian Irving visited my parents yesterday.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes, Brian Irving showed up at my mum and dad’s looking for me. He returned the letter and he asked to speak to me.’

  ‘That’s brilliant! What did he say when you phoned him?’ She saw the look on Craig’s face and stopped. ‘He must have left a number to reach him on?’

  ‘He did, but when I rang, the person who answered didn’t know what I was talking about.’

  Lynn raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you sure it was the right number?’

  ‘Yes, I phoned my dad back and he confirmed it.’

  ‘That is really weird. What do you want to do now?’

  ‘Lynn, promise you won’t shout at me.’

  ‘Why?’ She eyed him suspiciously.

  ‘The phone number is in a village in Cambridgeshire. I think we should go and check it out.’

  The waitress brought Lynn’s pot of tea and her food. Lynn poured a cup before replying.

  ‘Do you mind if I have my tea first?’

  Less than forty minutes later they had collected their Vauxhall Cavalier from the car hire office and were on their way. The hardest part of their journey was getting out of London during the rush hour but they eventually found the A10 leading north and before long they passed through Enfield and saw signs for Hertford. Craig and Lynn didn’t exchange much in the way of conversation as the first few miles passed. Both of them were wrapped up in their own thoughts. Lynn turned on the radio and tuned it to pick up a station that was broadcasting a tea time news bulletin. There were items about Margaret Thatcher’s latest attack on the unions, and an update from the overseas visit by Prince Charles and Princess Diana with nine-month-old Prince William. Next was an item about the latest retail outlook following the recent budget, and finally in sport it was all about Liverpool’s march to the title under Bob Paisley who announced he was to retire at the end of the season. Nothing about Craig, he was pleased to note. Lynn turned the radio off and they drove on.