Murder Most Royal

He straightened somewhat, perhaps catching the glint of steel behind her question, and blustered something about how good it was to be back in the saddle, which was an odd phrase to use for one of the few members of her Private Office who didn’t ride.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t around to help you when the unfortunate hand was found.’

‘I seem to recall that you were, remotely,’ the Queen said, with the same edge to her voice.

Sir Simon missed the edge. ‘Talking to the chief constable, you mean, ma’am? It wasn’t a problem, I assure you.’

The Queen explained to him that it was, rather, and he was slightly chastened. However, he soon perked up when he explained he’d been catching up with Bloomfield again this morning.

‘There was a packet of drugs missing from the bag on the beach, ma’am, judging from the way it was packed. His officers are making enquiries about what happened to it. But if anyone offers you cheap cocaine, you’ll know where it came from.’

‘Very funny, Simon.’

He straightened his face. ‘And there’s an update on where the plastic bag went in the water. The currents and tides in the Wash are a complicated study. I won’t bother you with—’

‘No, do,’ the Queen said. ‘I’m interested.’

He seemed surprised. ‘Certainly. Well, if I’ve understood it correctly, then generally, there’s a tidal drift on this coast that runs from north to south, but among the swirling waters of the bay, on our little stretch of the Wash it ends up running south to north. The forensic team modelling suggests the bag’s likely to have been deposited in the Great Ouse near King’s Lynn, a couple of days before the storm. That would make it some time between the nineteenth and twenty-first of December, four to six days after Mr St Cyr disappeared. The hand was in good condition before it went into the water, so the question is, where it – and he – was during those four to six days.’

‘I see. Do they have any thoughts?’

‘It looks as though it might have been in cold storage. It makes it harder to work out at which point it was detached. And that still leaves the question of why. Bloomfield is edging towards thinking that it might be a professional job after all. They have several lines of enquiry. Mr St Cyr had a certain amount of debt, for example; he liked to gamble.’

‘I remember,’ the Queen said. ‘He played cards for money here sometimes. He was very good at it. We had a roulette table once and he was glued to it all night.’

‘There’s a team looking into his finances. No obvious communication yet regarding large wagers that might have got him into hot water. No sign of unusual withdrawals from his bank accounts. Or at least, there were many, but lately they were almost exclusively for things like electric fencing and wild ponies. I can find out what that was all about if you—’

‘I know what it was,’ the Queen told him. ‘Rewilding.’

‘Re . . .?’

‘Look it up, Simon. It’s been the talk of north Norfolk. The duke thinks it’s the next big thing.’

‘I will, ma’am. “Rewilding”.’ He made a note. ‘Meanwhile, they’re searching Abbottswood itself for the body, in case the trip to London was some sort of double bluff. Then they’ll move on to Mr Fisher’s estate at Muncaster.’

The Queen’s eye roll did not escape her private secretary.

‘He did threaten to kill Mr St Cyr more than once, in front of witnesses,’ he reminded her.

‘Yes, but honestly, Simon. Mr St Cyr had that effect on some people. He wasn’t the easiest neighbour.’

‘Well, quite.’

The Queen sighed. ‘Anyway, I gather that Mr Fisher wasn’t in the country on the fifteenth.’

‘No, he wasn’t, ma’am – but then, nor is he the kind of person, I think the reasoning goes, to do his own dirty work, so to speak. Which becomes rather difficult for us.’

‘Oh?’

‘The last person Mr St Cyr called before he left for London was Julian Cassidy.’

‘Mr Cassidy? Our new conservation manager? The bean counter?’

‘Yes, ma’am. As you know, he was working for Mr Fisher until November. I understand there were various disputes about the land. Mr Cassidy was seen scuffling with Mr St Cyr in the car park of the Horse and Hound in Castle Rising in early December. Mr St Cyr didn’t press charges, but there were several witnesses.’

‘Oh, dear.’ The Queen sighed. ‘How unfortunate. Do we know why?’

‘Not really. He claims it was a parking dispute.’

‘But the police think Mr Cassidy might have killed Ned on Matt Fisher’s behalf, even though he stopped working for him several weeks before. I must say, Simon, that sounds incredibly unlikely.’

‘They don’t know what to make of it at the moment, ma’am. He doesn’t have an alibi for the fifteenth, unlike Mr Fisher. He did try to punch Mr St Cyr. But it seemed out of character.’

‘That’s a relief. We’re not aware of other violent incidents, are we? Is this something we need to worry about?’