Page 3 of Deadly Murder (Angus Brodie and Mikaela Forsythe Murder Mystery #14)

Two

We waited in the drawing room of that private suite at The Grand Hotel, a suite that “ didn’t exist” according to hotel staff if one inquired, after receiving what might be called a royal summons that had been simply signed, A.E.

I was familiar with those initials that I had seen at the conclusion of our first inquiry case. A.E., Albert Edward, Prince of Wales.

“ We” referred to both Brodie and myself, according to an agreement that neither of us would undertake separate cases after a particular situation that could have ended badly. Although, I did have it well in hand by the time he had arrived.

Over the intervening months, there had been the odd case or two, including the Peterson case, with most of our time devoted to the changes we wanted to make to the office now that Brodie was the official owner of the building on The Strand.

Such as the lift we were having installed to assist those for whom the stairs presented a difficulty.

I originally thought of Mr. Cavendish, who assisted us from time to time in our inquiries, while Brodie had pointed out that it might be convenient for my great aunt, who made frequent visits when she was out and about in her motor carriage.

The lift was to be powered by electricity and was very nearly completed, along with an expansion of the second-floor loo, repairs to the ground floor shop at #104 that had stood empty for some time, and then a remodel project of the third floor.

Brodie had decided to let out the ground floor shop to a business prospect. He was determined that ownership of the building should include rental income from the other spaces.

The third floor, which had been vacant for some time, needed a great amount of work. My great aunt had ideas about that. I could only imagine what that might include.

Brodie had left Mr. Cavendish in charge of the final test for the lift that we had to postpone after the arrival of our “unofficial” summons, delivered by one of the courier services about London.

It was quite odd that His Royal Highness had chosen one of those services about London rather than the official royal courier. So here we were, awaiting the arrival of the Prince of Wales.

I was familiar with the suite of rooms at The Grand as I had been there before with my good friend, Templeton, who at the time was rumored to be the 'theatre companion' of the Prince of Wales.

That particular title was subject to various interpretations that included mistress and lover although she had vehemently denied it at the time.

“Dear Bertie and I are just…very good friends .”

Good friends, my foot.

I did like Templeton very much, a well-traveled, independent woman much like myself. We got along without any pretenses and shared a colorful conversation from time to time. And then there was her pet iguana, Ziggy, who was now in residence at the London Zoo.

She was forever attempting to persuade me to join her on her next tour to the United States. However, that had been pre-empted by the man who presently paced the floor of the suite.

“How am I supposed to greet the man?” Brodie asked with a frown. “I canna exactly slap him on the back and offer to buy him a pint,” he said with more than a little sarcasm.

“Aside from the slap on the back, you might simply say—‘Good afternoon, Your Highness,’” I suggested as I stood and straightened his tie. “And then let him provide the reason for the meeting. It isn’t as if you haven’t met before,” I pointed out.

Their past acquaintance had been cordial, without the usual formalities required when speaking to a royal. Yet, that might have had to do with the fact that Brodie had just saved the man’s life and those of his family.

“And no official courier. Most interesting,” Brodie commented.

It was then that I heard the door to the suite open, and His Royal Highness, Albert Edward, the Prince of Wales, and future King of England, entered the room.

“It seems that we are about to learn the reason,” I commented.

The Prince of Wales was dressed surprisingly informal in trousers and jacket, although of the finest quality, that might have been worn for a day out sporting or at his hunting lodge.

He had cap in hand; his other hand extended to Brodie in greeting in that casual way between men that immediately emphasized that this was not an “official” meeting.

No personal staff accompanied him, no equerry, nor Sir Knollys, his private secretary. Not even a footman.

“I appreciate you meeting with me on such short notice, Mr. Brodie,” the Prince of Wales greeted him.

“Of course,” Brodie replied, obviously surprised by HRH’s casual deportment.

His Highness turned to me. “And Lady Forsythe. Always a pleasure.”

I was not into curtsies and nodded an acknowledgement.

“Your Highness.”

“Let us dispense with the formalities, please,” he told me, his expression quite serious.

“Shall we begin then?” Brodie replied with a gesture to the overstuffed settee and two side chairs that sat before the fireplace.

His Highness nodded and sat on the settee. Brodie and I each took a chair across from him.

“I have not forgotten your service in the past on behalf of myself and my family, Mr. Brodie. And Lady Forsythe, of course, who was injured at the time. A most dangerous situation and handled with amazing skill and…discretion.

“It is in that regard that I sent that note myself while out and about and not officially, if you get my meaning.”

Brodie nodded.

“There is a matter that has arisen that is somewhat alarming as well as perplexing and needs immediate attention.” He seemed most serious as he continued.

“I assure you that it is not what you might assume from past rumors about certain…indiscretions,” he added without elaborating.

There was no need as they were well known, and it was the only reference he made to several rather famous well-known affairs.

The man did have a fondness not only for actresses but a titled lady or two.

“It does seem as though the man cannot keep his trousers buttoned,” my great aunt had remarked quite bluntly when one particular affair became known.

“And then there was that nonsense about a chair or some other piece of furniture.”

I did appreciate that she hadn’t elaborated on that particular subject.

“I much prefer a rogue to a nobleman , ” she had continued at the time. “It does add excitement, wouldn’t you agree, dear?”

I looked over at Brodie. I had to admit that I did agree on that.

His Highness stood then and paced across the room.

“I must ask for your discretion once more, of course, in the interest of a valued friend, until the purpose behind this is determined.”

Brodie nodded once more.

“Of course,” I replied.

“You must be aware of a situation, in the matter of the death of a young man, the son of Lord Salisbery, the month past.”

“A matter of a robbery after leaving his club late of the night almost six weeks ago,” Brodie commented.

“So, it would seem, according to the newspapers and what the Metropolitan Police have determined,” His Royal Highness added.

“However…” He reached inside his jacket and retrieved what appeared to be a badly stained envelope. He crossed the suite and handed it to Brodie.

“This was found by Lord Salisbery’s footman in the young man’s hand when the coach arrived at their residence and his body was discovered.”

Brodie unfolded the stationary, read the contents, then handed it to me.

“The sins of the father will be visited upon the children…?” A biblical saying, if I was correct, and quite cryptic.

“Have the police seen this?” Brodie inquired.

There was a pause. “Lord Salisbery has not shown it to anyone else as yet.”

“It could be helpful in finding the murderer…” Brodie pointed out.

“That is the reason your assistance is being requested,” HRH replied. “It is well known that in your own search for Lady Forsythe’s sister, your services were acquired to great success. And you are sensitive to the need to avoid the sensationalism that usually accompanies such a situation.”

I was well aware of that and there was no need for his reminder of it. And it was no secret that the dailies feasted on any information, real or otherwise, about those in certain circles.

That had not been my concern when my sister disappeared.

The concern had been the delays and lack of attention it was given by Chief Inspector Abberline, who had referred to her disappearance more than once as a lady of means who had simply taken herself off, even with the “unfortunate circumstances” of her maid’s death.

I caught the subtle change of Brodie’s expression. He was not one to turn away someone in a dire situation, still I had learned to read his expressions. He was not pleased to be called into a situation where a valuable piece of information had been withheld from the investigation.

“With all due respect, sir, this might be a situation better suited to the Agency,” he diplomatically replied.

However, I caught the look of consternation in the expression on HRH’s face.

“I appreciate your candor, Mr. Brodie. However, I am personally requesting your expertise in the matter. I want you and Lady Forsythe to investigate this situation and determine who is behind it.”

Most interesting, I thought, and a polite way of issuing what seemed to be a royal decree.

“I appreciate your confidence, sir,” Brodie replied.

“You hesitate?”

“Such matters are often withheld for reasons that would make it impossible to provide assistance.”

A thoughtful and accurate response for something we had encountered in the past.

Those of the upper classes prioritized their good names and titles at all costs. There were a few like my great aunt who didn’t give a fig about such posturing and overblown ideas or self-importance.

Yet, by and large, it was true of mainstream society, and most particularly the royal family. They had the reputation of “closing ranks” as it were in order to protect one of their own, no matter the situation, whether it was the latest mischief or scandal that might reflect badly.

Case in point, Prince Albert’s many affairs, a mistress or two, and other transgressions that no one knew about because of aforementioned habit of protecting their own at all costs. It did make the prospect of investigating the matter of young Lord Salisbery’s death very near impossible.

“Very well.” His Highness abruptly turned to me.

“You will excuse us, Lady Forsythe.”

It was not a request.

“Ye are aware of her efforts on yer behalf in the past,” Brodie reminded him before I could respond. “Anything ye discuss with me, ye may discuss with the both of us.”

It was obviously not what Prince Albert expected given the surprised expression on his face.

“I am well aware, Mr. Brodie, and I meant no offense.”

This was added with a look over at myself.

“There is another matter,” Brodie added.

I did notice that the accent from his youth on the streets of Edinburgh seemed to thicken when he was angered over something. Not that it had ever been directed at me. Ha!

“If we are to consider yer request,” he continued. “It would be with yer word that we are to have full authority and control of the case with no interference.”

“If I do not agree?” Prince Albert challenged.

“Then we will bid ye good day, sir.”

The atmosphere in the room was so thick one could have cut it with a knife.

“I am reminded that the Scots can be particularly stubborn.”

I would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious.

“I make no apologies, sir,” Brodie told him. He stood to leave.

“Very well,” HRH replied somewhat sharply. “You have full control of the investigation into the matter, but I would ask for discretion at all times.”

Brodie nodded. It was obvious he had hoped his demand would be the end of the matter. And now…

“We will need to meet with Lord Salisbery for details of that evening.”

Prince Albert nodded. “I will inform him.” He turned to me.

“I believe you are acquainted with him?”

Only socially and briefly at that. Yet, I nodded. There was someone who might be able to assist with that—my great aunt.

“Who else knows about this note,” Brodie pointed to the envelope that he had set aside on the table.

“Only Lord Salisbery, my secretary Sir Knollys, and myself. Sir Knollys received it at Marlborough House with a note from Lord Salisbery. He opens all my personal correspondence.”

“What of the driver from that night? Has he been questioned?”

“Lord Salisbery has not received word of that from the Metropolitan Police.”

“Is Lord Salisbery presently in London?”

“He is. This matter is most important to him.”

“Then I would suggest ye send word to him that we need to meet in order to make our usual inquiries, and we will require the full cooperation of the MET.”

“Then we are agreed in the matter?” HRH inquired.

“We will make our usual inquiries as soon as we have met with Lord Salisbery. The sooner the better, of course.”

“We are hosting a party, Wednesday this week, a birthday celebration. It would be the perfect opportunity for you to meet with Lord Salisbery.” HRH looked at me then.

“I will see that you receive invitations.”

I could almost hear Brodie groan. He attended formal celebrations under duress.

That was in two days’ time. It would provide time for me to make inquiries with the stationer I used regarding the note found on young Lord Salisbery.

It would also provide Brodie with time to learn what the police knew about the case through those he had worked with in the past.