Crowned and Dangerous

by Rhys Bowen

  “Zou Zou, you are something else,” Darcy said.

  “What do you mean? I’m a perfectly ordinary woman. So what are we going to do next? I’m game for anything.”

  “You say you just put through a telephone call to England,” Darcy said. “Do you think I could use the telephone in your room and also make a call to London? I think there’s a chap there who might be useful and has connections in the States.”

  “Of course, darling. It’s 217.” She held out the key. “Tell them to put the call on my bill.”

  Darcy went off, leaving the princess and me standing together.

  “So what do you think?” she asked. “Darcy believes his father is guilty, doesn’t he? He’s not trying very hard.”

  “I know,” I said. “But I’m more optimistic now than I was. Now we know that the man was using a false identity, it opens up all kinds of possibilities. I’m hoping the American embassy will recognize him and come up with good reasons why other people might want him dead. And I told Darcy that we should take photographs of his manservant, and maybe try to get his fingerprints. Because most of the damning evidence against Lord Kilhenny comes from him.”

  “Good idea,” Zou Zou said. “You and I will do the donkey work. If Darcy’s not going to bat for himself, then it’s up to us. Women to the rescue.” And she waved her arms, almost knocking over an elderly couple who were crossing the foyer.

  In spite of everything I had to laugh.

  Darcy returned from his telephone call looking relieved, I thought. When Zou Zou pressed him about who he had called, he would say nothing, making me sure that it was somebody in the spy business with whom he was somehow associated.

  “Well, that’s settled at least,” he said. “Should we head back to Kilhenny or is there anything more that we can do here?”

  “We can’t do any more here until the embassy finds out Mr. Roach’s real name,” I said. “And we wanted to take a photograph of Mickey the manservant, and try to get his fingerprints.”

  “We can’t go anywhere before luncheon,” the princess said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, and I’m fairly sure there will be nowhere decent to stop for a meal in your village. It will be cottage pie or something equally ghastly. And I’m sure the Shelbourne can provide a passable lunch. Come on, this way.”

  Darcy looked at me again and raised an eyebrow as she set off ahead of us. I could see why he thought she’d be a complication for us. Long and expensive meals would take valuable time away from our main objective. But I did have to admit that I was hungry, and it was lovely to be seated at a table in the window overlooking the green while Zou Zou ordered what seemed like an elaborate meal.

  “Zou Zou, we are in the middle of a murder investigation,” Darcy pointed out. “You said you’d come over to help, but we’ll be here all afternoon if you order so many courses. Besides, Georgie and I are on a tight budget.”

  “Silly, silly,” she said, reaching across to slap his hand. But she did cut her order to a clear consommé, pheasant and a sweet soufflé, all of which were utterly delicious. And the bottle of rosé certainly revived our spirits so that we were in a good mood as Darcy drove us back to Kilhenny. The bright morning had turned to cloudy afternoon and I couldn’t help thinking that Darcy would have to make this trip again later to return the princess to her hotel. She definitely was proving a complication.

  “I think we should stop off and visit your solicitors on the way back to the castle,” Princess Zamanska said as we left the city behind us. “Find out exactly what they have been doing so far and let them know our thoughts.”

  “I spoke to them when I arrived,” Darcy said. “Frankly I’m not too hopeful. Old Mr. Leach even suggested pleading insanity. He said there were some quite pleasant institutions these days.”

  “Good heavens,” Zou Zou exclaimed. “Then we definitely need to go and set them straight. Where are they, Darcy? In Dublin?”

  “No, in Kildare.”

  “Oh dear. Country solicitors. They are always hopeless. The sooner the case is taken away from them the better.”

  “That’s up to my father, not me,” Darcy said. “He hired them.”

  “Don’t worry, as soon as we have my brilliant barrister chappie all will be well,” Zou Zou said. “And we really must sit down and speak to this father of yours. I’d like to hear what he’s got to say for himself.”

  “He won’t even talk to me, Zou Zou. Any attempts at conversation have been met with a curt ‘mind your own business.’”

  “Ah, but I’m awfully good at getting people to talk,” Zou Zou said. “I should have been a spy in the Great War. I’d have winkled all kinds of secrets out of the Germans.”

  Darcy exchanged a quick look with me. We arrived in Kildare.

  “Solicitors?” Zou Zou said.

  “I don’t think that’s the wisest idea at the moment. Not with three of us.”

  “But we have new information for them. The mysterious identity of Mr. Roach.”

  “Let’s wait until we find out who he really was, and until we have the name of your barrister, Zou Zou,” Darcy said.

  I could understand his reluctance. Introducing Princess Zou Zou in a country solicitor’s office would be rather like bringing a peacock into a henhouse.

  “Very well, then what shall we do next?”

  “You wanted to take care of your aeroplane, didn’t you?” I suggested.

  “Of course. And I want to see your castle, Darcy. I grew up in a medieval castle too. Such fun, but drafty.”

  So we continued on toward Kilhenny.

  “Where are you staying, Georgiana darling?” she asked from the backseat. “Also in Dublin? Or are you being naughty and sharing a place with Darcy?” Before either of us could answer she went on, “I’m concerned about Darcy having to drive me back and forth all that way into Dublin. Such a time waster. If I can’t use my little plane, then I’ll have to beg, borrow or steal a motorcar. Your father doesn’t have one to spare, does he?”

  “He had the use of an estate car, but they are all locked away in the castle garage at the moment. It’s still being treated as a crime scene.”

  “So where did you get your hands on this ancient Rolls?”

  “Ah, that came from the great-aunt Georgie is staying with.”

  “A great-aunt? Nearby?”

  “Yes, we’ll be passing the house shortly.”

  “Then why didn’t you say so before I checked into the Shelbourne? I could stay there too, couldn’t I?” Zou Zou said.

  Oh crikey, I thought, trying to picture the glamorous princess among the dust and chaos of Oona’s house. Darcy must have had the same thoughts.

  “It’s not up to your standards, Zou Zou,” Darcy said. “The place has gone to wrack and ruin and they are living with almost no servants. She’s an eccentric old biddy. He’s as queer as a coot.”

  “But I could rough it. I’m a lot tougher than I seem. I’ve climbed the Matterhorn, you know. And I’ve been marooned in a snowdrift in Bulgaria—surrounded by wolves. I’m sure I could cope with a batty great-aunt. Is it only a tiny cottage, then?”

  I was about to say that yes, it was a tiny cottage. Unfortunately, at that moment we were passing the entrance to Oona’s driveway. The rambling old house could be seen and I had found that Darcy wasn’t good at telling lies. Subterfuge, yes. Withholding information, definitely, but there was something in his upbringing that made lying impossible. I’m the same. It’s that duty and integrity that are rammed down the throat of every upper-class child by nannies and governesses.

  “Actually that’s the house, through the trees back there,” he said, “but really, it isn’t fit for guests, and I think it would embarrass Great-Aunt Oona to have a guest of your quality pressed upon her.”

  “Georgiana is of my quality,” she said. “And the house looks charm
ing. Certainly enough bedrooms to find a spot for little moi.”

  She really did see things through rose-tinted spectacles, I thought. The house looked old, rambling and almost derelict, but could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be described as charming.

  “And this is all their land?” she went on. “Perfect. I can park my plane in one of their barns. Why don’t we go and pay a call on them now and get everything settled? I’m sure a local peasant boy can tow my plane over on his tractor, or I could even fly it over. That might be more fun.”

  “Zou Zou, I really think you’d be happier at the Shelbourne,” Darcy said. “I really don’t mind driving over to pick you up. And we’ll want to go back to Dublin anyway to meet your barrister.”

  “Anyone would think you didn’t want me to meet your relatives, Darcy,” she said in a peeved voice. “If we were in Poland I’d be happy to take you to see my batty relatives. Including Great-Uncle Zygmund, who thinks he is Napoleon but is quite harmless.”

  Darcy had to laugh at this. “And my great-uncle Dooley is currently playing at the battle of Waterloo. They’d get on well together.”

  “Only Dooley would want to capture Napoleon,” I pointed out. “He was about to do so when I left today.”

  “They sound absolutely delightful. Much more fun than the staff at the stuffy Shelbourne and ‘Yes, Your Highness, no, Your Highness.’ And Georgie can lend me her maid. I had to leave mine behind in London because she gets horribly airsick.”

  “I didn’t bring my maid, I’m afraid,” I said. “I left her in London too.”

  “Then we’ll both rough it together. Jolly good fun.” She tapped Darcy on the shoulder. “Don’t you dare try to drive past.”

  Poor Darcy. He glanced at me, then at Oona’s driveway. “But you’ve left all your things at the Shelbourne,” he said, “and I don’t feel like driving all the way back there to retrieve them. Why don’t you go back to the Shelbourne tonight and I’ll broach the subject carefully with my aunt,” Darcy said. “And if she is up to another guest we can fetch your suitcase tomorrow.”

  “Oh, all right,” she said, miffed at not getting her own way, I suspected.

  I heaved a sigh of relief. By tomorrow all sorts of things might have happened. She might be called back to London. The clouds had now thickened and hung low and heavy over the distant mountains.

  “It’s going to rain again,” I said.

  “Then we must hurry back to my poor little plane and find a tarpaulin or somewhere to put it,” she said. “We can’t have the cockpit filling with water.”

  At least this had stopped her from wanting to meet Great-Aunt Oona. We drove through the village. Several men who were clearly from the press were standing together outside the pub. They looked up at us with interest as we drove past.

  “Oh Lord, that’s torn it,” Darcy said. “What’s the betting they follow us?”

  “Then I shall tell them that I am the Princess Zamanska and I am thinking of buying this racing stable now that its owner is deceased,” she said. “You two are my faithful retainers.”

  “I rather fear they’d recognize both of your faithful retainers,” Darcy said.

  “No matter. Lady Georgiana has simply come with me as my companion.”

  This did seem like a good solution and one that didn’t make suspicious people tie me in any way to Darcy.

  As we turned in to the lane raindrops started to spatter on the windscreen. The clouds looked as if they might open at any moment.

  “Does your father have a tarpaulin or anything that might cover the aeroplane?” she asked. “Or could we push it into an outbuilding?”

  “The outbuildings are all on the estate, currently watched by a Garda,” Darcy said. “My father merely has a garden shed, not big enough for an aeroplane. But they should have something to cover a cockpit at the stables. Let’s go and ask.”

  We did, this time not seeing Ted Benson but a stable boy who knew Darcy and who found us a piece of oilcloth that would do the trick. It was now raining hard and the princess sat in the backseat of the motor as we returned to the field with the aeroplane in it. Darcy and I, dressed more sensibly for inclement weather, got out and managed to cover the cockpit. The rest of the plane would just have to get wet for now. We had just finished our task and were returning to the motorcar when we heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.

  “Those bloody reporters,” Darcy muttered, and sure enough the motorcar stopped and out climbed three men wearing trilby hats and raincoats.

  “Excuse me, could we have a word?” One of them came toward us with a notebook at the ready. “Are you connected to Lord Kilhenny? Coming to visit him?”

  Zou Zou wound down her window. “These kind people were just helping me with my dear little aeroplane,” she said in a strong foreign accent, quite unlike her normal voice. “I had to make an emergency landing in this field and now I must find a way to have it towed. So annoying.”

  “And your name, madam?”

  “I am not a madam,” she said, her hand at her throat in a dramatic gesture. “I am a princess. Princess Alexandra Maria Zamanska.”

  I think we might have fooled them and they might have left us alone except at that moment a voice bellowed out, “What the hell is that aeroplane doing in the field? Are you reporters coming in from the sky now? Go on, be off with you. I’ve told you you’re wasting your time. I’ve nothing to say to you. Now beat it before I get my shotgun.”

  Chapter 24

  TUESDAY, DECEMBER 4

  BACK IN KILHENNY AT THE GAMEKEEPER’S LODGE.

  Lord Kilhenny stood there, his hair wild and windswept, and wearing a black smoking jacket. He reminded me of an aging Heathcliff or even a Lord Byron. In fact he looked so formidable that the reporters actually headed back to their motorcar and drove off.

  As the motorcar backed away he turned on us. “And that means you too. I don’t know who the hell you are, but you are not welcome here.”

  “Father, this is my good friend Princess Alexandra Zamanska.” Darcy stepped in to intercept his father as he advanced on the Rolls. “And she was good enough to fly her aeroplane over to Ireland because she wanted to help you. At this very moment a barrister friend of hers is searching out the best defense counsel in Ireland on your behalf.”

  Lord Kilhenny took in the glamorous woman in the backseat of the Rolls. “Why on earth would you go to that amount of trouble for me, Your Highness?” he demanded. “You don’t know me from Adam.”

  “Because I adore your son and I can see that this silly business could ruin his life.”

  “I don’t want charity. I don’t need charity. So thank you very much but please leave.” He stood there with his arms folded across his chest, glaring at her defiantly.

  “Silly stubborn man,” Princess Zamanska said. “You should at least listen to what we have to say. We want to help you. Don’t you understand that?”

  “But don’t you understand, it’s no good.” He turned his head away. “Even if I could afford the best barrister in Ireland, there’s nothing he or you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do, as I keep telling this son of mine. That brainless inspector has decided I’m guilty and that’s that.”

  Princess Zamanska opened the door of the Rolls and stepped down. The wind swept at her dark mink coat and she drew it around her. She looked like a figure from a tragic Russian novel. “The whole question comes down to this,” she said, walking toward him. “Do you think you are guilty?”

  “I don’t know!” he shouted at her over the wind. “I don’t goddamn well know. I can’t remember a damned thing. And what does it matter anyway?”

  “Because if you don’t let people help you, if you aren’t prepared to help yourself, you will hang,” she said.

  “I really don’t care,” he said. “I’ve lost everything that matters to me.”

 
While this exchange had been going on, I had also gotten out of the motorcar, and was standing there unnoticed in the background as the scene played out. I knew it would be wiser to stay silent, but when I heard him say those words something inside me snapped. I stalked up to him. “That is a cruel and wicked thing to say. You have a son who loves you, who has done nothing to warrant the way you have treated him. He came rushing to your side the moment he heard of your predicament, and what’s more he had to leave something that was really important to him. But he didn’t hesitate for a second, even though he said you wouldn’t welcome him.”

  Lord Kilhenny’s gaze moved from me to Darcy and back again. “A friend from London, eh?” There was almost the hint of a smile. “Didn’t fool me for a second. You were the thing that was important to him, weren’t you?”

  Darcy stepped to my side. “That’s right, Father. Before this we were actually on our way to be married. Afterward I realized we could no longer marry; I didn’t want her to suffer through being associated with me. I tried to end all contact with her. But she wouldn’t listen. She came here anyway. That’s what people do when they care about each other.”

  There was a long silence, then Lord Kilhenny said gruffly, “You’d better come inside. We’re all getting soaked standing here.”

  He led the way back to the lodge. It was a gloomy little place, dark with low ceilings and heavy dark furniture. I could easily see how a person could become depressed living alone there.

  “I’ll make us some tea,” Darcy said. “Unless Mrs. McNalley is around?”

  “I sent her home and told her to stay away from here for the time being,” Lord Kilhenny said. “I don’t want her bothered by those bloody pressmen every time she sets foot outside the door.”