by A Royal Pain
“No,” I said. “In England the police don’t carry guns at all.”
“How silly,” she said. “How do they catch the crooks?”
“They blow a whistle and the crooks give themselves up,” I replied, thinking that this did sound rather silly.
“But Mr. O’Mara says he will see us again soon. That is good news, no?”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” I replied mechanically. I stared out of the window, watching the lights of Piccadilly flash past us. The shock of Tubby’s death, mixed feelings about Darcy, combined with the effect of those cocktails, was just beginning to hit me. I felt that I might cry at any moment. I fled to my room as soon as we got home.
“Was it a good party, my lady?” Mildred rose from the shadows.
I leaped a mile. “Mildred, I didn’t expect you to stay up so late. You didn’t have to wait up for me.”
“I always wait up to help my ladies undress,” she said primly. I stood there and let her undress me like a little girl. She was just brushing out my hair when we heard raised voices from the next room. Mildred raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Will that be all, my lady?” she asked, putting the hair-brush back on my dressing table.
“Thank you, Mildred. It was good of you to stay up so late,” I said.
As she opened my door to leave, Irmgardt came out of the princess’s room next door and stomped past with a face like thunder. I suspected that the princess had revealed a little too much of what went on at the party. Suddenly I was overcome with tiredness. I got into bed, curled into a tight ball in my bed and tried to sleep.
The next morning’s Times had a small paragraph reporting the tragic death of Lord Tewkesbury’s son, who plunged from a balcony after too much to drink at a Mayfair party. Fortunately the report didn’t mention whose party, nor who had been on the guest list. I was still reading the Times in bed when my grandfather appeared at my door.
“There’s a geezer downstairs what wants to see you,” he said.
“What sort of geezer?”
“Says he’s a policeman.”
“Oh, Lord.” I leaped out of bed and tried to put on my dressing gown. My head felt as if it were being hit with a large hammer. Oh, Lord, so this was a real hangover.
“Have you been doing something you shouldn’t?” Granddad asked.
“No. I expect it’s about the party last night. Some poor chap fell off the balcony. I saw it happen.”
“That can’t have been very nice for you. Drunk, was he?”
“Completely. Tell the policeman I’ll be down immediately.”
On my way out of my door I bumped into Mildred. “My lady, I should have been instructed to fetch you. It is quite unseemly for your butler to go into your room. Let me help you dress before you receive company.”
“It’s not company, Mildred. It’s a policeman. And I’m respectably covered up, you know.”
“A policeman?” She looked as if she might swoon.
“Nothing I’ve done.” I dodged past her and went downstairs.
My grandfather had put the policeman in the morning room and given him a cup of tea. He rose as I entered and I was dismayed to see it was none other than Inspector Harry Sugg. I had encountered him once before and the memory was not a pleasant one.
“Ah, Lady Georgiana. We meet again,” he said. “And again under tragic circumstances.”
“Good morning, Inspector.” I offered my hand and received a limp handshake, before sitting opposite him on an upright gilt chair. “Please forgive the attire. I wasn’t expecting visitors this early.”
“It is after nine o’clock.” He repositioned himself on the sofa and crossed his legs. “The rest of the world has been out and working for hours.”
The thought crossed my mind that he’d have got on like a house on fire with Sidney Roberts. They could have shared their communist sympathies.
“But then the rest of the world doesn’t stay up at parties until all hours,” he added.
Ah. So he did know I had attended the party last night. No point in denying it then.
“I imagine you’re here to take my statement about the horrible accident.”
“That’s exactly why I’m here. It seems you made a quick getaway before the police arrived last night. Why exactly was that, miss?”
He still hadn’t learned that one addressed the daughter of a duke as “my lady” and not “miss,” but I had come to think it was deliberate in his case. I chose to ignore it.
“I should have thought it was perfectly obvious. I was extremely distressed by what I had seen. Kind friends put me in a taxi.”
“And what had you seen?”
“Mr. Tewkesbury” (I couldn’t remember his first name. I’d only ever known him as Tubby. And in my early morning fogged state I couldn’t remember whether he was the Honorable Mr. or Viscount something) “fell from the balcony. I was out there. I saw the whole thing.”
“Can you describe it for me?”
I went through the whole scene, relating word for word what had happened. When I had finished he nodded. “Well, that corresponds exactly with what Mr. Roberts told us. The other chap, Gormsley, must have been blotto by that time. He couldn’t even remember who had been out on the balcony.”
Dear Gussie, I thought warmly. Trying to protect me from involvement.
“There had been a lot of drinking going on,” I agreed. “Poor Tubby was completely squiffy. That’s why he fell over in the first place.”
“And the balcony railings actually collapsed?”
“Yes. I heard them splintering. He was a big chap, you know.”
“All the same, I presume they build railings to withstand big chaps leaning on them, and it is a new block.”
I looked up. “What are you hinting?”
“Nothing at this stage. From what you and Mr. Roberts tell me, we can call it a horrible accident and close the books then?”
“Definitely,” I said. “A horrible accident, that’s exactly what it was.”
“And you can swear that nobody gave him a shove?”
“A shove? Of course not. Why would anyone give him a shove?”
“Extremely rich young fellow, so I understand. People have been known to do a lot of things for money.”
“The only person near him was Gussie Gormsley and he’s also an extremely rich young fellow.”
“There’s also jealousy, over a woman?”
“Nobody would be jealous of Tubby,” I said. “And besides,I saw the whole thing. Nobody touched him. He took a drink, lost his balance and fell.”
The inspector rose to his feet again. “Well, that seems to be that then. Thank you for your time, your ladyship. There will obviously be an inquest in the case of unnatural death. You may be called upon to make a statement. We’ll let you know when that will be.”
“Certainly, Inspector,” I said. “Glad to help.”
I remembered to ring the bell to summon my grandfather.
“The inspector is leaving now,” I said.
At the doorway Harry Sugg paused and looked back at me. “Strange, isn’t it, that you’ve been involved in two deaths so close together.”
“Not involved in either, Inspector,” I said. “A witness, that’s all. An innocent bystander, in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“If you say so, miss.” He took the hat that Granddad had given him, tipped it to me then put it on his head. “Thank you for your time.”
And he was gone. I got the impression that Inspector Sugg would dearly have loved it had I really been involved.
“Miserable-looking bloke he was,” Grandfather said. “Did he want a statement from you about the party?”
“Yes. He wanted to make sure that Tubby wasn’t pushed.”
“You saw the whole thing, did you?”
“I did. It was just a horrible accident. Tubby was very drunk and very large.”
I felt tears welling up again. I hardly knew Tubby, but he was a harmless fello
w and he didn’t deserve such a horrible fate.
“So silly, these young people, aren’t they? Drink too much, drive too fast. Think they’ll live forever. You’ll be wanting your breakfast now, I expect.”
“Oh, goodness. I don’t feel like food at all,” I said. “Some black coffee, please, and maybe some dry toast.”
“Mrs. Huggins will be disappointed. She was looking forward to cooking real food now that the baroness has gone. What about the little lady? Is she up yet?”
“I haven’t seen her yet. We got home very late. I expect she’ll want to sleep in.”
Granddad looked up the stairs then moved closer to me. “You want to watch that one,” he said. “She may prove to be more trouble than she’s worth.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. She’s a nice enough little thing. You can’t help liking her, but there’s something not quite right with her.”
“What are you saying?”
“It’s just a feeling I have. I’ve observed a lot of people in my time as a copper on the beat. Made plenty of arrests, and I think she’s a wrong-un. Trying to pinch a handbag from ’arrods. Ordering herself jewels from Garrard’s. Ordinary folk don’t do things like that.”
“Well, she is a princess, Granddad. And she is just out of the convent. She probably hasn’t a clue about money and thinks that things she wants miraculously appear in front of her.”
Granddad frowned. “I don’t care who she is, princess or fishmonger’s daughter, she should know right from wrong. And I tell you something else. I think I caught her using the telephone yesterday. I picked up the downstairs extension and I’m sure I heard a click, as if the upstairs receiver had been put down.”
“Maybe she was just calling the baroness.”
“If she was, why not ask your permission first? And why hang up when she thought someone was listening? She knows we don’t speak Kraut.”
“I don’t mind if she uses the telephone.”
“Your brother will mind if she’s calling home to Germany,” Granddad pointed out.
“Oh, golly, yes. Fig would be livid.”
He leaned closer to me. “If I was you, I’d tell the queen you’ve bitten off more than you can chew with her and send her packing. They can decide at the palace what to do with her. If you don’t, I get the feeling she’ll lead you up the garden path.”
At that moment the front doorbell rang again.
“Blimey, we are popular this morning, aren’t we?” Granddad adjusted his tails and started toward the front door. “And you’d better get yourself out of sight. Standing in the hallway in your dressing gown—what will people think?”
I darted for the nearest doorway, then stopped when I recognized the voice.
“I know it’s dashed early, but I had to talk to her ladyship before the police show up on her doorstep. Would you tell her it’s Gussie? Gussie Gormsley.”
I reappeared. “Hello, Gussie. I’m afraid you’re too late. The police beat you to it.”
“Well, that’s a bally nuisance,” he said. “I didn’t like to wake you and I’d no idea they’d show up at the crack of dawn. No sense of propriety, those fellows. They were dashed rude last night too. Hinted to me that someone might have given poor Tubby a shove, or had been fiddling with the railings. ‘Look here,’ I told them, ‘Tubby hadn’t an enemy in the entire world. Everyone liked old Tubby.’ I tried to keep you out of it, you know.”
“I gathered that. Thank you for trying.”
“Would have worked too, but that blasted idiot Roberts, with his lower-class morality, had to go and blurt out that you were on the balcony with us. Then, of course, they wanted to know why you’d done a bunk.”
“Actually I wanted to stay, but Darcy thought I should get the princess away so that there was no making of an international incident.”
“Oh, right. Good thinking. Darcy O’Mara, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Was he at the party last night?”
“Yes, he was.”
“Didn’t notice him. Don’t think I invited him.”
“He probably gate-crashed. He often does,” I said.
“Friend of yours?”
“In a way.”
He frowned. “Rum fellow. Irish, isn’t he? Went to a Catholic school and Oxford, but we won’t hold those against him. He plays a decent game of rugby. Father’s an Irish peer, isn’t he?”
“That’s right.”
“Don’t think I’d quite trust the Irish,” Gussie said. “I’d better be off, then.”
“Thank you for coming,” I said. “And for trying to protect me. It was very sweet of you.”
“Not at all. Dashed awful thing to have happened, wasn’t it? I can tell you I felt quite green myself. Poor old Tubby. I still can’t quite believe it.” He started to walk toward the front door, then turned back. “Look here, I gather that some fellows at my party were doing a little more than drinking, if you get my meaning. You saw them in the kitchen, didn’t you? If the police question you again, I’d rather you conveniently forgot that. I’d hate to get the family name in the papers in any way mixed up with drugs.”
“I understand,” I said. “And frankly I had no idea what was going on. I thought they’d spilled flour on the table.”
Gussie laughed. “That’s a good one. I like you, Georgie. You’re a great girl. I hope we can meet again soon. In happier circumstances, I mean.”
“I hope so too.”
“Is the princess staying with you long?” he asked wistfully.
So that was it. It wasn’t me he wanted to meet again soon. It was Hanni.
Chapter 16
No sooner had Gussie departed than Hanni came down the stairs, looking fresh and bright and lovely. No sign of a hangover, and yet she had definitely consumed as many cocktails as I.
“Hello, Georgie. I’m not too late for breakfast, am I? I’m starving. Can we have proper English breakfast now that pain in ass is no longer here?”
“Hanni, that expression really isn’t suitable. If you must say something you can say ‘pain in the neck.’ ”
“Neck is better than ass?”
“Definitely. I’ll tell Mrs. Huggins you want breakfast.”
We went through into the breakfast room and I nibbled at a piece of buttered toast while Hanni attacked a huge plate of bacon, eggs, sausages, kidneys, the works.
“When can we go to another party?” Hanni asked between mouthfuls. “It was such fun. I like the music and the dancing and the cocktails were the bee’s knees.” She sighed happily. “And the sexy guys too. When can we go see Darcy again? I think he has the hot pants for me. He stayed beside me a long time last night. He wanted to know all about me—my home and the convent and my dreams for the future. He was really interested.”
“I don’t think you should take Darcy too seriously,” I said.
“But he would make good match for me. He is Catholic. Good Irish family. My father would be happy.”
“No, your father wouldn’t be happy,” I said, trying to keep my face calm. “His family is penniless, for one thing, and Darcy is not the type who settles down with one woman. He’ll be tired of you by this time next week.”
But as I said it, I couldn’t help wondering. Did Darcy see the princess as a good bet for his future? Did he fancy himself as Prince of Bavaria with a handsome income for life? He was clearly opportunistic and he might not want to let such a catch as Hanni get away. The queen would be furious, I thought, and then a small voice in my head whispered that I wouldn’t be too happy about it either.
“So where do we go today?” Hanni asked. “More shopping? I like London shops. Or lunch at the Savoy? Your friend Belinda said you met Gussie and Lunghi at lunch at the Savoy. I would like a place where I get good food and meet guys.”
I began to think that Granddad was right. The princess was rapidly turning into more than I could handle. The small stipend from Binky certainly wouldn’t cover
outings like lunch at the Savoy and I couldn’t risk letting Hanni loose in any more shops.
“You agreed to have lunch with Baroness Rottenmeister at the Park Lane house,” I reminded her. “And this morning I think we should take in some British culture,” I said. “I am supposed to be educating you. I’m taking you to the British Museum.”
“Museum? But museums are full of old stuff. We have crummy old stuff in Germany. I like modern things.”
“You may be a future queen,” I said. “You need to know your history. British Museum and no arguing.”
“Okay,” Hanni said with a sigh.
I went upstairs to have my bath and get dressed. Mildred insisted on my wearing decent clothes, and a strand of pearls.
“I’m only going to a museum, Mildred,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter, my lady. You are a representative of your family and your class every time you set foot outside your front door. My previous ladies never went out unless they looked like aristocrats. The ordinary public expects it.”
I sighed and let her attempt to brush my hair into fashionable waves. “And I’m sure you haven’t forgotten, my lady, but I did request Thursday afternoons off.”
“Oh, absolutely,” I said with relief. “Go and enjoy yourself.”
“I will indeed, my lady. I often take in a matinee of a show.”
Feeling like a dowdy forty-year-old in my suit and pearls, I came out of my room and tapped on Hanni’s door. “Ready to go?” I asked, pushing the door open.
Irmgardt looked up at me with her usual sullen blank expression. She was in the process of hanging up the princess’s ball gown.
“Is the princess ready to go out?” I asked. “Princess? Downstairs?” I gestured.
She nodded. “Ja.”
Poor Hanni, I thought. I bet she didn’t choose such a maid. Irmgardt was obviously an old family retainer who had been sent to keep an eye on Hanni by the palace. And she had given her little charge a good talking to the night before. I wondered if it would have any effect.
As I turned to leave, I glanced at the bedside table. There were some letters on it, including the strange sheet of paper with C. P. printed on it. And now somebody had slashed an angry red cross through the initials.