The Shackleton Affair (A Raymond Armstrong Novel Book 2)

by Michael Gill

  “Okay Richard I’m quite sure Anne will see reason and back off. Thanks for saving my life back there,” he said pointing at the armchair. I won’t actively pursue any more of this even though there are three collars still missing. However, much like that itch you get when one has a leg or arm bandaged up or in plaster. They say never scratch it, but the itch drive you crazy. You just have to.”

  “Would you like me to arrange for the two of you to get to a hospital sharpish?”

  “Yes please.”

  “Then don’t piss off the government in the future.”

  “You’re no fun,” Raymond laughed.

  Chapter 34

  Stamford, England

  “Come here and give me a big hug,” said Anne. Raymond went to her, using just his right arm to squeeze her tightly. She wrapped her arms around him.

  “Ouch, bloody hell,” he said, his left shoulder now throbbing.

  “Oh shut up you big wuss, you had me worried.”

  “Just a flesh wound,” he smiled. “Actually you look much worse. That bruise,” touching her head. “Headache?”

  “Yes, I’m going to take a Paracetamol and get to bed. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “Love one.”

  Raymond switched on the TV, waiting for the evening news. “The last twenty-four hours,” he sighed to himself.

  Richard arranged for them both to be flown to a hospital in Glasgow for a checkup which ended up being an all-night affair. They planned to catch the ferry back to retrieve their car, this morning.

  Richard had asked for his keys. “I will have one of our guys have your car back in Stamford before you two get back. Get the train. Much safer in your condition.” They had arrived back late this afternoon. The car was parked outside, the keys under the plant pot.

  He had relayed the entire story to John. Thanked him for his help and to head back to Canada.

  Anne brought in a tray with a large teapot, two cups and some biscuits on the side.

  “What will happen to the pair of them?”

  “She will go down for a long time. Knowing him with all that money and a fancy lawyer I doubt he will see much time in a cell if at all.”

  “And what about Richard and MI6? That was so nice of him to arrange the car. The train was so relaxing.”

  “He made some derogatory remark about the two of us. Would Hart to Hart stop playing detectives and go back to writing genealogy novels for families.”

  “Showing his age with that show. Early eighties, right?” Raymond nodded in agreement.

  “Well, you aren’t a multi-millionaire. What did the butler say about Mrs. Hart - she’s gorgeous? Well at least he has one of us right.” She laughed doing a gentle twirl.

  “So where is your head right now with all of this?”

  All this Irish conflict, home rule and the nasty politics are a bit of a smoking mirror. Richard wanted us to concentrate in these areas. They’re so confusing it would drive any historian crazy never mind a retired MI6 analyst.”

  “And me?”

  Raymond continued. “The jewels had to go back to the rightful owners. That being the Knights. They knew one day Ireland would be independent and they would be kicked out. They never conceived for one minute the country would be split with Britain keeping the North. They could have moved everything to Ulster when it happened. Who knew and look what happened thereafter. Conflict and bloodshed for almost one hundred years. They were returned successfully by the Shackletons. Frank also stole the jewellery from Sir Arthur Vickers’ Past mother, making a tidy sum of money. Sir Ernest gave the jewels to the Queen putting him in good graces with the King of England. Either he or Frank had the collars. The one we found, while three stay missing. We would probably find the collar stolen with Jeffrey’s whisky was owned by a minor knight who was out of favour or something. Since 1922 there have only been three new members to the order who were all from the royal family. Prime Minister Winston Churchill suggested reviving the order in 1943 but met stiff opposition. The politicians didn’t want to upset the balance between the two countries. And In fact today, the current Queen of Great Britain is the sovereign of the order.”

  “How would anybody know all that stuff? I mean it sounds like an Irish order. After all he’s named after the patron saint of Ireland.”

  It never had anything to do with being Irish. The order was established in the eighteenth century to reward those in the order for gaining political support in Ireland. After all the reason of an order in the first place is to follow your King or Queen.

  “Much like King Arthur with the Knights of the Round Table?”

  “Yes, in principle.”

  “Look at the news,” said Anne. They went silent, staring at the TV, both with a cup of tea in their hands. The scene was outside Dublin Castle. The camera was focused on the President of Ireland with the Brazilian Ambassador to Ireland.

  “After so long it’s hard to believe that the crown jewels are back in their rightful place here in the capital of Ireland. We will treasure this and sincerely hope the other collars are found.” He shook hands with the President of Brazil while cameras clicked in their thousands.

  “We now have an announcement from a spokesperson for the Home Secretary in London.”

  The news suddenly turned to a spokesperson from the British Government issuing a statement with an apology. It had been set up quickly in a small studio with a backdrop of the river Thames behind him. “Scotland Yard had named Frank Shackleton the prime, and in fact only, suspect in the theft. They did everything in their power to find sufficient evidence back in 1907. Unfortunately not enough was found to take him to court. We can only imagine he gave them to his brother, for safe keeping. Our heroic explorer was no doubt intending to return them, until they became lost on Elephant Island. The British government is delighted the jewels are now back in their rightful place at Dublin Castle.”

  “What do you think of that?”

  “Let me sleep on it.” Anne yawned.

  Chapter 35

  Following Morning

  “Anne I’ve brought you a cup of tea.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Eight. How is the head?”

  “Dreadful. I need more sleep.”

  “Just have to pop out for the day. Will you be okay?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To see a man about a dog.”

  “You can be more creative than that,” she said groggily.

  “Last piece of the puzzle, honestly. After this I’m finished with this mystery.”

  “Stop now.”

  “I can’t - something is bugging me. See you tonight. Text me if you need anything.”

  ***

  Raymond was stuck in traffic. The small town of Warwick was a nightmare to navigate through. He came to the next set of red lights, stopped in a long line of traffic. To the left he could see the entrance for Warwick castle. Now that place has seen plenty of monarchs with their scandals, affairs and treachery over a thousand years. He had been many times in his younger days. Built for William the Conqueror in 1086, most kids would agree with him it was one of the most magnificent of castles in England. Nowadays the place is packed with tourists. Japanese with their cameras being told repeatedly to leave their flash off. Falls on deaf ears. The Madam Tussauds features are so popular it somehow diminishes the historic significance of the castle, he thought. He pulled into the car park and bought a ticket.

  He sat in the grounds thinking about what he had learnt today. A peacock was walking by him, showing off its attractive plumage.

  Still, half of our history is just a façade. He decided after today he would read more history from learned writers rather than listen to the telly or anything the government had to say about historic matters.

  Raymond had met Paul at his rare and fine book store. Being in the centre of Warwick it was an ideal location for the tourists passing through. However, Paul was a well-respected historian who had spent most of his c
areer in the records department at MI6. He started his career as a history teacher at a top private school at the early age of twenty three. Within four years he was completely disillusioned with teaching. The government hired him. Raymond would often go on a break chatting about everything in the world including history. Raymond was weak in the subject and yet excelled in geography. Raymond had called him last night to ask for his opinion on all this Irish Crown Jewels theft. He gave him the last piece of information that seemed to make slightly more sense on the matter.

  He returned to his car, eager to get home and be with Anne.

  He sped through a small section of the M6 motorway, driving quickly on to the A43. He made record time with his GPS originally estimating one hour twenty three minutes. He would make it in just over one hour.

  ***

  “Anne I’m back.” She came into the kitchen looking far better than this morning. He reached over and kissed her on her bruised forehead.

  “So, did you bring me a dog?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Hey you look serious. Where did my happy husband go?”

  “Warwick. Any wine open?”

  “Yes, a Pinot in the fridge.”

  “Just an historic fact I missed. Also, had some of my ideas on the order slightly out of whack. At the end of the day this won’t make any difference to the facts.” He paused. “This is a mystery that will never be solved entirely.” She sat on the kitchen bar stool, while he stood.

  “I spoke to an old friend today.”

  “Another colleague from the old days?”

  “Yes, he’s retired. Has an old book shop in Warwick. He wouldn’t tell me anything that was part of the Official Secrets Act. However, just some prompting into more historic facts gave me more clues. His history book collection is second to none. Anne, nobody really wanted the damn things.”

  “What! How come?”

  “They are tainted in any royal household. They were originally owned by Queen Charlotte.”

  “Wife of mad King George the Third.”

  “Yes. Her son George the Fourth had many mistresses but his favourite was a noble Lady. I think they’d been lovers from a very early age. Even when he married apparently he was seen winking and smiling at her. She was by his bedside when he did in 1830. You remember after his dad went quite insane there were signs he could follow suit. He had a wicked temper. Upon his death he had bequeathed all his jewels to her. She didn’t want the entire collection and somehow found a way to have some of the collection returned to the Queen. The Irish Crown Jewels were among them.

  “Wow,” said Anne.

  “She had her son the new King William the Fourth dispose of them. He decided the order of St Patrick could have them, instructing the Lord Lieutenant of the order would wear that for special ceremonies.”

  “They must be worth a lot of money today. One thing I do know was Queen Charlotte’s jewellery was magnificent and there is hardly any to be seen today anywhere. They mentioned how rare it was on the Antiques Roadshow a while back,” Anne recalled. “So you don’t think the Queen gave them to Shackleton as a gift?”

  “No, I think she asked him to get rid of them. Whether it be buried in Antarctica or chopped up on the black market. I think we had nailed why the King did it. However after he died, The Queen was left with them, in the house, what four years after he died. Queen Alexandra just like Queen Charlotte could not abide them being in the same house.”

  “There could be many more tainted crown jewels kicking about, don’t you think?”

  “Probably,” Raymond said.

  “You’ve lost all your passion for this haven’t you?”

  “Having intruders in our house didn’t help.”

  “Is that it? Richard been applying more pressure?”

  “No. I spent the best part of this afternoon walking around the grounds of Warwick Castle. I just wanted to clear my head. Made me think of all the treachery, scandal that went on throughout all the monarchy of the British Empire. Made me realise this is so big and to be honest unsolvable. However, that would never stop me trying to solve a case.”

  “Then what?”

  “My friend gave me the history lesson that does give us more clues as to why and who may have taken the jewels. He also gave me more information unofficially that made me realise you and I need to stop right now.” Anne looked puzzled.

  “The King was a bastard with women and money, especially in his younger days,” Raymond said deep in thought.

  “Which King? There have been several that fit the category.”

  Sorry, William the Fourth. The story my friend told me about the Irish actress Dorothea Jordan really made me sick to my stomach. No violence or murder involved. Just power defeating a nice person.”

  “Tell me?”

  “Quick version. You can look her up later. William was Duke at the time before he became king. He fell for the lovely Irish actress. She moved in with him and they had at least ten illegitimate children. They eventually split up. The Duke ordered that he have custody of the sons, she the daughters. He sent her money for their care. His strange order in all this was she could never perform on stage again. A few years later she did due to an enormous family debt. She wanted to help pay it off. He found out, immediately took custody of the five daughters and stopped paying her anything. She moved to Paris dying a year later in total poverty.”

  “He told me an offshoot of her family has something to do with an attempt to effect peace in Northern Ireland. Right now. Today, yesterday, next year. With at least ten illegitimate kids it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. A vendetta against the British Crown and the government. People in high places and large corporations.”

  “How high?” Anne asked.

  “Lords, Earls somewhere in that rank.”

  “Raymond this is up your alley. You could find out. It’s no different from doing the family tree work you do so well.” Raymond nodded.

  “Here is what I spent most of my time thinking in the castle grounds. Look at the conflicts today. Korea or Israel and Palestine. There are so many. Did any of us really think the conflict with Ireland would ever stop? Never has in history! From 1966 it accelerated to such a level.”

  “I was in Canada then but I know how it must have felt here and I can imagine how bad it was to be in Northern Ireland.”

  “Well we have peace. Quiet for ten years. I for one want it to continue. I won’t do a thing to change that. My former employers are watching this family and all their connections around the world. Seems to me they are doing a good job of it to this point.”

  “So we are done?”

  “Yes. Don’t even mention Shackleton again.” He smiled across at Anne.

  “Mind if I hold on to my love story?”

  “I think it would make a good romance novel with a touch of historic fact.”

  “A touch!”

  “Okay twenty percent.”

  “Would you like to plan that holiday we mentioned?” Raymond reached for his computer tablet. “I need one,” he sighed.

  “Raymond. Let’s go to Ireland. I’ve never been.”

  “Really. Not even Dublin’s fair city?”

  “No.”

  “A far cry from a cruise in the Med. Are you sure?” She nodded. “Well there is a revival of single malt whisky over there. I love Dublin and to be honest there are many parts I have never been to. You’re on.”

  “Will you take me?”

  “When?”

  “Next week.”

  “I will,” he smiled. “I may have to let Richard know it was your idea for a holiday.”

  “Will he believe you?

  “Probably not.”

  “So we may have a holiday guest, lurking in the shadows.”

  “Yes, no doubt they will keep an eye on us for the moment.”

  “Just a minute,” said Raymond, moving to the whisky cabinet. He took out two glasses and a bottle, poured a generous serving in each and moved
back to the sofa handing one to Anne.

  “What is this?”

  “Lord Elcho fifteen year old from Wemyss Malts Company.”

  ”Did you actually remember all that stuff or was it delay tactics?”

  ”I did but had never sampled the whisky. I seem to remember at the time it was delicious.”

  ”Under those conditions? I thought we may be killed. My husband is definitely nuts.” Anne laughed.

  Raymond smiled. Been in tougher situations, he thought.

  They both took a long sip from their glasses.

  “This is quite delicious,” said Anne

  “Actually, we have been invited to their new distillery. Kingsbarns is right next to St Andrews.”

  “Taking your golf clubs?”

  “Of course!”

  Right, Ireland and Scotland. I think we need a break,” Anne declared.

  She squeezed his hand. “It was fun. I liked us working together.”

  “Don’t get used to it. A whisky tasting, your love for Shackleton revealed, a whisky theft that links to the stolen Irish Crown Jewels. What are the chances?”

  “And if it does happen again?”

  “A case that doesn’t have the British government bent out of shape?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then the new Mr.and Mrs. Hart will solve the case.” He smiled raising his glass.

  “I will drink to that!” Anne said.

  The Shackleton Affair Historic Timeline

  1907: The Irish Crown Jewels are stolen from Dublin Castle

  1908: Frank Shackleton, brother of Sir Ernest Shackleton was named the prime suspect in the theft. However, he never came to be charged.

  1910: King Edward V11 dies. His wife Queen Alexandra takes permanent residency at Sandringham while her son King George V of England spends most of his time at Buckingham Palace.

  1914: Queen Alexandra tours the Endurance ship. She gave Shackleton a Union Jack and two bibles. A few days later the queen sent a private cable to Shackleton. “I am anxious to tell you how much I am thinking of you and the officers… upon the eve of your departure from England,” she cabled. Wish you from my heart all possible success and Godspeed and a safe return.”