Page 20 of Next in Line

‘As feisty and cantankerous as ever, although recently he’s been talking about retirement.’

‘Now that he’s found the right person to take his place?’

‘That’s assuming Booth Watson isn’t planning to have us both locked up long before then,’ said William as Beth walked back into the room.

She curtsied before announcing, ‘Luncheon is served, my lords.’

‘But we haven’t finished building the palace!’ said Artemisia.

‘We’ll finish it together after lunch,’ promised Beth, ‘while your father and Ross do the washing up.’

‘I may have to go on another intensive training course before I can handle that,’ said Ross as he stood up and took Jojo’s hand.

‘Can I go with you this time?’ Jojo asked her father as Beth led them all out of the room and into the kitchen to find William sharpening the carving knife.

‘I’ve got an even better idea,’ whispered Ross as they sat down at the kitchen table. ‘Why don’t I take you to London Zoo tomorrow, and we can—’

‘Only if Arti and Peter can come as well.’

That was when Ross finally accepted that Jojo truly was part of the family.

CHAPTER 9

WILLIAM ANDREBECCA ARRIVED OUTSIDENumber 4 Buckingham Gate early on the Tuesday morning, unsure ‘what they were about to receive’. They were, to quote Rebecca, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and more than ready to begin their new assignment.

William knocked on the door, as he didn’t have an entry code for the small keypad on the wall. He received no response. He banged a little harder, but still no response. He was about to try a third time when the door half opened and a man peered out at them over a chain. He looked as if he’d been woken from a deep sleep, and hadn’t had time to shave.

‘What do you want?’ he asked gruffly.

‘To come in,’ replied William.

‘Who are you?’

‘Detective Chief Inspector Warwick,’ said William, producing his warrant card. ‘Who are you?’

‘Sergeant Jennings. What can I do for you, Inspector?’

‘Chief Inspector,’ William snapped. ‘You can start by opening the door and showing me to my office.’

Jennings took the chain off the hook and reluctantly opened the door to allow the two strangers to enter. He silently led them down a long dark corridor, switching on the lights as he went. They descended a staircase to a basement, the dank, putrid smell suggesting it was rarely visited. They stopped before a door at the far end, where Jennings took his time looking for the right key.

‘Your office,’ he announced, after he’d finally managed to open it. He’d clearly never been in the room before, and shivered before standing aside to allow them to enter.

A single light bulb hung from the ceiling. Below it was a small plywood desk that wobbled when touched, two plastic chairs and a few wooden shelves lined with last year’s dust, along with a 1984 volume of the police yearbook.

‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’ asked Jennings, sounding as if they were keeping him from something more important.

‘Should I presume you’ve been on night duty, Sergeant?’

‘Yes,’ came back the sheepish reply.

‘Yes, sir,’ corrected William.

‘Yes, sir,’ snapped Jennings, clicking his heels.

‘The first thing you can do,’ said William, ‘is go and shave, put on a jacket and tie, and then report back to me.’

‘I’m just about to go off duty.’