Page 26 of Next in Line

‘I have a feeling,’ said Grace, ‘that he’ll be only too happy to make a deal that will allow him to get Faulkner off the hook, remembering that he stayed in contact with him after his escape from prison, and even played the conductor at his orchestrated funeral.’

‘Let’s hope you’re right,’ added Sir Julian. ‘But will it be enough to stop him raising the subjects of kidnap and theft?’ He paused for a moment before he picked up a sheet of paperfrom his desk. ‘I’ve already made a wish list for us to consider,’ he declared, ‘were we in his shoes.’

‘So have I,’ said Clare, extracting a sheet of lined yellow paper from the agreed bundle.

‘Good, then let’s compare notes,’ said Grace.

‘One,’ began Sir Julian, ‘BW will demand that the case be heard in open court so all the damning evidence concerning Chief Inspector Warwick will be in the public domain. And by that, I mean on the front pages of every tabloid newspaper, because if there’s one thing the press enjoy more than being responsible for putting a criminal behind bars, it’s having a go at the police.’

‘Judges aren’t influenced by the red-tops,’ said Grace.

‘But juries are,’ countered Sir Julian. ‘And don’t forget not many of them read theGuardian.’

‘But—’ began Grace.

‘Therefore,’ he continued, taking over from his daughter before she could offer an opinion. ‘Don’t be surprised if BW advises Faulkner to plead guilty to a lesser offence in exchange for a suspended sentence.’

‘Unlikely,’ said Grace. ‘If that were to happen, the press would want to know the reason why he’d got off so lightly.’

‘Two,’ said Sir Julian, ‘for not raising the subject of a stolen painting, he will demand his client’s current sentence be halved to four years, which would mean with good behaviour he’d be released in about a year’s time.’

‘Hogan should have left him in the safe,’ muttered Clare, before putting another tick on her list.

Sir Julian ignored the comment before summing up. ‘So, what we’re looking at is the Crown calling for the judge to double Faulkner’s sentence to sixteen years for absconding from prison, while the defence will be pushing for us to dropthe latest charges in exchange for not raising the subject of kidnap and theft, while at the same time halving Faulkner’s present sentence if he’s willing to plead guilty, thus ensuring nothing gets into the press. So what have we got to offer,’ he continued, ‘to prevent that from happening? Because at the moment, frankly I can’t come up with a whole lot.’

‘As I mentioned,’ said Grace, ‘Booth Watson has one or two of his own problems that he certainly won’t want raised in open court.’

‘Rehearse your argument as if you were addressing the jury,’ instructed Sir Julian, gripping the lapels of his jacket before setting off on another circuit.

‘If Booth Watson attended Faulkner’s staged funeral in Geneva, as DCI Warwick will confirm he did, and later flew to Barcelona to see him, as witnessed by DC Pankhurst, he must have known all along that Faulkner was still alive, which means, under the 1967 Criminal Law Act, he was aiding and abetting a fugitive. If we can prove that, the police would have no choice but to open a preliminary investigation into his conduct, the results of which they’d pass on to the CPS and the Bar Council. That could result in Booth Watson being struck off, and even arrested for criminal conspiracy, which would make him ineligible to defend Faulkner, or anyone else for that matter.’

Sir Julian considered this for a few moments before saying, ‘Much as I dislike the man, let’s hope we don’t have to stoop that low.’

‘Even if we did,’ said Clare, ‘I feel confident BW will stoop even lower.’

•••

Ross sat silently in the front passenger seat of the Jaguar while the Princess and Lady Victoria Campbell chatted happily in the back. He tried not to show how nervous he was, remembering this was his first official outing with the Princess.

He had already visited the Dorchester earlier that morning to liaise with the forward recce officer. Together they’d walked the course, so HRH couldn’t take a single step in any direction he hadn’t anticipated, and after that the sniffer dogs carried out their own form of surveillance.

The FRO briefed the hotel’s manager to expect a VIP visitor without naming them, while warning everyone that if any details were to leak, the event would be cancelled or moved to another venue at a moment’s notice. That usually ensured everyone involved kept their mouth shut.

Ross had joined them when they’d checked HRH’s designated route in and out of the building, while at the same time considering if any alternative was available, should an emergency arise. He’d also requested a private room be put aside with a landline, in case HRH wanted to make a personal call, as well as a rest room for her use only.

Once everything had been covered to his satisfaction, he’d asked the manager if anyone had been sacked recently, someone who might have a grievance they’d want to air in public in the hope it would ruin their day. The last thing Ross double-checked was to confirm there would be an escape vehicle hovering at the rear of the building, with a doctor on board and a driver who enjoyed cutting corners, just in case they needed to leave sharpish.

A second advance team would have gone over everything again after Ross had left, and would have already arrived earlier that morning – not that you’d have noticed them keeping a jaundiced eye on anyone or anything that lookedout of place, while a member of the public couldn’t have got past the front door without an invitation card, plus personal ID with an up-to-date photograph – which, Ross had been reliably informed, had once stopped Billy Connolly joining HRH for lunch.

And despite all the preparation, they still knew there was always the possibility that something might arise they hadn’t considered, which would mean standard procedure would be thrown out of the window. If that were to happen, Ross would be expected to make what the pros called a thinking-on-your-feet decision. It was a protection officer’s worst nightmare, because on that one decision alone, your whole career might be judged. Princess Anne’s PPO had made an instant decision when the royal car was attacked in the Mall by terrorists – but luckily for him, and for her, he got it right. He was awarded the George Cross, promoted and ended up being the Queen’s personal protection officer. But Ross was still hoping something like that would never occur on his watch.

As the car approached the Dorchester, Ross could see a large crowd had gathered on the pavement outside, keenly awaiting the arrival of the Princess. When they drew up at the ballroom entrance, Ross jumped out and opened the back door for his charge. As Diana stepped out she was greeted with cheers and popping flashbulbs.

Ross had been warned by his predecessor that the next few minutes, when she would stop and chat to members of the public, were always the most fraught for any protection officer. He scanned the crowd. Ninety-nine per cent of them would be harmless, but he was only interested in the other one per cent: someone who wasn’t waving or cheering; someone he recognized from the mugshots back at the Yard which were indelibly etched on his memory; someone hoping to make itonto tomorrow’s front pages. That handful of people who were classified as ‘fixated individuals’ – the fanatics, the deluded, or even a passionate republican who wanted to express their opinion to a captive audience.

The Princess was met on the pavement by Sir Magdi Yacoub, the eminent Professor of Cardiothoracic Surgery at Imperial College, whose work she’d supported for many years.

After welcoming the Princess, Sir Magdi guided her into the hotel, where a long line of carefully selected supporters and volunteers had been patiently waiting for the past half hour. Diana took her time chatting to each one of them as she progressed slowly down the line, finally to be presented with the obligatory bouquet of flowers by a young nurse. She accepted them with a gracious smile before handing them to her lady-in-waiting. She spent the next twenty minutes mingling with some of those who hadn’t been chosen to stand in line.

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