Free Dread Murder by Gwendoline Butler

they looked as princesses should.
    A few yards further on, and the lights showed behind the silken curtains of His Majesty’s suite.
    â€˜Wonder how he is,’ said the Major, looking up.
    â€˜Well, I believe I saw him yesterday,’ said Mindy, ‘and he bowed at me.’
    â€˜Smiled at you too, did he?’ barked Denny. ‘And blew you a kiss?’
    â€˜No,’ said Mindy indignantly, ‘of course not! He is the King. He just bowed his head. He remembers me from my work with Miss Burney; he was always fond of her.’
    At the end of the corridor Princess Amelia appeared. She held a hand out to Mindy. The Princesses too had loved Miss Burney, so that now they had transferred the affection to Mindy. But this had its exacting side, as now
she wanted to speak to Mindy and, being a Princess, she wanted a response at once. With a muttered ‘goodbye’ Mindy went to her.
    â€˜And not only Miss Burney did the King like,’ thought Denny; a mad king and now a drunken rake for a king. He shook his head. ‘But then they were all Germans, not a drop of English blood in them.’
    Then he remembered the arrival of the Germans at the Battle of Waterloo, and how well they had fought after their forced march, and the relief it had been to all, including himself and the Major.
    â€˜So we were grateful for Blucher,’ he conceded to himself. ‘Of course Napoleon must have felt less pleased. In fact, if it wasn’t for the Germans we might all be French by now!’ Denny grinned. ‘Not a chance; Napoleon had to go down so we could have our mad king, and our drunk one.’
    â€˜What are you grinning at?’ demanded the Major.
    â€˜Just life, nothing more.’ As if that wasn’t enough.
    â€˜I was thinking about death,’ said the Major.
    â€˜We’ve had a bit of that around,’ admitted Denny.
    â€˜I’d like to get someone inside the Unit,’ said Mearns. ‘Find out how it works. Check on Felix’s progress.’ He looked speculatively at Denny. ‘You might be able to do it.’
    Denny shook his head. ‘Not me.’
    â€˜Tosser could do it. He’ll be helping the Unit anyway on account of holding the dead body.’
    â€˜He’s got a bit of Traddles that he might see fit to mention,’ warned Denny.

    â€˜We’ll have to do something about that.’
    â€˜Like finding the rest of Traddles?’
    â€˜Something like that.’
    â€˜The best person to get inside the Unit is you,’ said Denny, ‘no one better, and Felix would take it as a compliment.’
    â€˜You think so?’
    â€˜Do it the right way; ask it as a favour, and yes.’
    It was probably true that Felix wanted to get a foothold inside the Castle – be known as a useful man in Royal circles.
    â€˜The big problem for us,’ said Mearns, ‘is Traddles. Where is the rest of his body? Why are only bits of him being sent to us? Of course, Dol’s murder might have nothing to do with Traddles’ death, but for now we have to consider that they might be connected. How did she come to be in the playhouse? What did the look mean that Miss Fairface cast on Beau? What is the reason for the killing? And who is behind it?’
    â€˜Watch yourself,’ said Denny uneasily.
    Â 
    The light from the Royal window shone down on the two soldiers as they passed by. Inside the Castle, His Majesty – a late riser, day and night seeming alike to him – was being helped into his silken dressing gown, a rumpled bed hung with brocade behind him, while he considered what he should wear for that evening’s entertainment with the lady of the moment. Lady Jersey was no longer prime beloved; nor Mrs Fitzherbert. But their memories hung around, like the others …

    The silk of his gown came from China, its execution was French. Peace with France made such luxuries possible. The silk was blue with deeper blue