Free The Blood Royal by Barbara Cleverly Page A

became of the children in the case?’
    It seemed he’d come up with the one formula that would have stopped her from leaving the room. She hesitated.
    ‘And the villain whose head you sat on? Were you aware you broke his nose? Resume your seat and hear me out. That’s better,’ he said as she settled on the edge of the seat. ‘Ah! Here’s our tea. Put it on the desk, will you, Jones? Thank you, that’ll be all.’ He heaved a layer of files and boxes on to the floor to accommodate the tea tray, then he took up the pot and filled two cups. ‘Drop of milk, one sugar, I understand? You always pay for it. And these are your favourite biscuits. Do have one.’
    He relished her astonishment for a moment. ‘I’m a detective by inclination. I still poke about, making enquiries. Military Intelligence during the war. It leaves its mark, don’t you know. Once a busybody, always a busybody. I took time to speak to old Stan on my way back through Paddington. He was very happy to talk about you. And I was more than happy to hear his eulogies. I’m going to confess to you, Miss Wentworth, that, though I rather relish the influence my rank brings me, I’ve been promoted out of step with my interest … if you follow me. I find there’s a sight too much form-filling, committee-sitting and politicking in it to please me.’
    He accompanied his speech with a rueful smile. It seemed to alarm rather than reassure the girl he was directing it at but he pressed on anyway. ‘However – we’re not here to talk about my career. I want to propose a change of direction for you, Miss Wentworth. I don’t know where this nonsense about redeployment to the north comes from. You are in no way bracketed with that reprobate Halliday.’ He leafed through the file and found the sheet he wanted. ‘Halliday … Yes, here we are. He has indeed been sent north – to Yorkshire for re-training – and no one’s expecting to see him back in the metropolis again.’
    Joe read on for a while, absorbed. ‘Your ex-partner had some pretty unkind things to say about you, I’m afraid.’ Silently, he scanned the vindictive phrases meticulously recorded by his superintendent, flinched, and decided not to reveal them. Common as cat shit and twice as nasty … Gift of the gab … Looks like the bleeding fairy on the Christmas tree – but don’t turn your back on her or you’ll find out what her wand’s for …
    ‘You must be awfully glad he’s gone, Miss Wentworth. Not quite sure what they’ll make of him in Yorkshire – more of a man, one would hope. No – I propose to deploy you in a different area, though still within the city of London. I have in mind a different role for you. And a different partner.’
    He waited until, intrigued, she turned her eyes back to him before announcing with a mock bow and a broad smile: ‘Myself. Now – two exhibits.’ He shuffled his files again and produced a photograph. ‘What do you make of that?’
    She seemed stunned but she took the photograph with a shaking hand and studied it. It provoked a spontaneous reply. ‘It’s a posed group photograph. Centre front I see an elderly and distinguished gentleman in the uniform of a high-ranking police official …’
    ‘He’s Chief Constable of the Lancashire Constabulary,’ Sandilands supplied. ‘Philip Lane. Fine fellow. Go on.’
    ‘And the lucky man has surrounded himself with a retinue of twenty or so pretty women. All young. Under thirty? I’d have said women policemen if they weren’t in mufti. Silk stockings, smart shoes, lovely frocks …’ She paused for a moment, appreciating what she was seeing. ‘And they all look very pleased with themselves.’ She must have caught the flash of humour in his eye and dared to add: ‘Especially the Chief!’
    ‘Oh, Lane’s having a happy time. He dislikes the women’s uniform as much as I do. And there’s something else we agree on – those women are indeed in the police though they are not being