Skeleton-in-Waiting by Peter Dickinson

Skeleton-in-Waiting by Peter Dickinson

Author:Peter Dickinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
Published: 2015-04-01T20:53:33+00:00


MARCH 1988

1

“That you?”

“…”

“Got anywhere? God, I’ll be glad when this is over. I’m sick with myself I ever got into it.”

“…”

“No. I’ll see it through. You know me. But it won’t be long now, and I’m telling you if you don’t take this chance while you’ve got it then I’m going to Security after all. I’ve shown you a way of getting what you want, without anyone getting hurt …”

“…”

“I don’t care. Better you and me than people who’ve done nothing wrong. I’m not having that on my conscience the rest of my life. So listen. They’re in a hurry now to get those papers back out of Hampton Court. You been reading about the other Princess?”

“…”

“That’s right. And that’s why they’re shit-scared now about the papers. Baby’s due his first jab tomorrow, and she’d kept it clear to be with him, but now she’s decided she’s got to go over …”

2

Since it had been Louise herself who had first asked if the officer in charge of her personal security could be a woman it was difficult now to suggest a change, but she had never been comfortable with Inspector Yale, a sturdy, square-faced thirty-five-year-old with naturally brassy hair. She sensed that the Inspector, though giving few tangible hints of it, regarded her present job as irrelevant both to her career and to the serious business of police-work, and who was Louise to say that she was wrong? She was efficient, calm and polite, but nuances meant nothing to her. When Louise had tried to suggest to her the best way of handling Piers, she had found herself talking about him as if he were a sulky and unstable teen-age lout.

“We’ll do our best not to intrude unnecessarily, ma’am,” the Inspector had said.

“I’m sure you will, but …”

That but still hung in the air between them at their fortnightly meetings. Like Mother but unlike Albert and Father, Louise preferred to see her staff individually, instead of sitting down with everyone together to thrash the future through.

“Anything special in the green diary?” said Louise. “You’ve been through it with Joan?”

“Of course, ma’am. Mrs Pennycuik asked me to check with you about the visit to Reading General Hospital on the eighth.”

“That’s only next week. That must be all fixed.”

“In consequence of the public reaction to the visit of the Princess of Wales to Argentina we would prefer to move up to an A3 security level—with your consent, of course, ma’am. The agreed timings were only on the basis of a B1 security team.”

“You want to cut something out?”

“We shall have to. Besides, there is the likelihood of additional television crews, who will need …”

“Oh, God. All right. Fix it with the hospital and tell Joan and the others what you’re doing. Try and keep the crèche, and as much of the talking-to-nurses and so on as you can. Those are the things the admin bods will want to chop, so they can keep their own share. If they do, talk about publicity … Oh, the hell with it—tell them it’s what I want.



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