Gloria nodded, her expression remaining serious.
‘And an interesting further point: Baroness Thatcher is the only ex-Prime Minister among them. Queen Elizabeth moved fast when Thatcher was ousted as leader by John Major and his cronies because she knew that the Inner Court wanted to bag her for themselves. The prestige, and perhaps legitimacy, it would have afforded the group would have been beyond value. Luckily, and shrewdly, Margaret Thatcher’s loyalty remained with Crown and Country: she accepted the Queen’s honour, not for the glory – the Order of Merit is far too understated for that, even if its influence is irrefutable and widespread – but because she bore no public malice towards the politicians who had betrayed her, and saw quite clearly where her allegiance lay: the people and their monarch. Sorry, I’m getting on my high horse, aren’t I?’
‘Well, you do sound like an admirer,’ said Kate with a grin.
Gloria smiled ruefully. ‘I am. She’s a terrific benchmark for what women can rise to. Unfortunately, her downfall revealed the duplicity of the male of the species.’
Kate could only agree, although she remained silent. She had an idea that her companion had a lot more to say about the various powers in the country and Kate was reluctant to spoil the flow. Instead, she lifted her almost empty wine glass. ‘Shall we top up before we go on, or ask them to bring our main course now?’
‘I’m not in the mood for food at the moment,’ Gloria told Kate. ‘But don’t let me stop you having more champers.’
The waiter was at his client’s side before Kate could reach into the ice bucket. He waved the diminished contents of the champagne bottle in the policewoman’s direction temptingly, but she declined by placing the palm of her hand over the top of her glass.
‘Come on, Glo,’ Kate chided, ‘you’re not on duty now.’
‘Katie, as you well know, I’m always on duty.’
And you always were, thought Kate fondly. ‘All right, perhaps a fresh bottle later, Vincent.’
As the waiter departed, Kate found her friend staring across the table at her, concern written all over her freckle-cheeked face. Kate raised her eyebrows questioningly. ‘You’re not having second thoughts about this, are you, Glo?’
‘So far I’ve told you nothing you couldn’t find out for yourself.’
‘But now we’re heading into deeper waters,’ Kate commented. ‘We really don’t have to continue with this if it makes you uncomfortable,’ she offered, while hoping fervently her friend would carry on in the same vein.
Gloria relaxed back in her chair. ‘What the hell,’ she said quietly. ‘David Ash is important to both of us, and I know how worried you are about him. You’re still not sure if he’s up to the job, are you?’
Kate averted her gaze, fixing it on the glass in front of her. ‘Is it that obvious?’
‘I could always read you, Katie. And I know I can trust you. To tell you the truth,’ Gloria responded, ‘it’s a kind of relief to talk about these things to someone who’s not wearing a uniform or a Home Office pass.’
They both giggled at that, almost like they used to over silly secrets when they were kids.
Gloria straightened her spine, the pose somehow authoritarian, with only her familiar warm smile humanizing the image.
Kate nodded. ‘Right.’
‘Even more influential than the OM is another very secretive group of extraordinarily wealthy individuals known as the Multinational Chairman’s Group, who together are so powerful they can influence government policies, both foreign and domestic. They lobby ministers to alter tax schemes, business incentives, as well as trade embargoes and such like. Governments are afraid of them because their world assets and resources can sometimes be used to destroy a country’s economic system. Compromises are always sought, of course, because as well as individual countries facing financial crises, the pressure group itself can be damaged in the fallout.’
She deliberated for a moment, then said, ‘You won’t be surprised to learn that much of this is about corporate and individual taxation, particularly where international assets are concerned.’ She paused again and then continued, ‘Then there is the Bilderberg Group of businessmen and politicians which is similar in function, but far more open than the Multinational Chairman’s Group. It has an unofficial annual conference to which a hundred and forty or so people are invited. These are mainly from North America and Western Europe.’
‘So is this Multinational Group connected to the Inner Court in some way?’ Kate asked, deeply puzzled.
‘No,’ came the policewoman’s instant response. ‘You might say that the IC is the very antithesis of the MCG. The Inner Court’s machinations often involve corruption, undue pressure on rivals, questionable tactics – and blackmail. It’s this last factor that gives them so much clout.’
‘But why do you . . . I mean, the law, how can it let them get away with it?’
Gloria frowned at the question. The powerful policewoman took a deeper sip of the Taittinger Nocturne before speaking. ‘I’m afraid the law has to step warily as far as the IC is concerned, but SIS keeps continuous tabs on them.’
‘But their obvious shenanigans can’t be stopped?’ Kate exclaimed a little too loudly. She realized the fine wine was beginning to have its effect on her and moderated her tone again. ‘I mean, Glo, surely in this day and age, groups or organizations – whatever you’d call them – can’t be allowed to get away with such practices?’
Gloria gave a soft sigh, but it was one more of solicitude than frustration.
‘Perhaps I should take you back to the Inner Court’s beginnings. It might just help you understand the predicament both the law and the Crown are in.’
Kate consented with a keen nod of her head. ‘Go on.’
‘Rather embarrassingly,’ Gloria began again, ‘no one really knows when the Inner Court first came into being, or how. It just seemed to evolve, and before anyone was aware, there it was, a secret order known only to the members themselves and the people they conspired with.
‘About two centuries ago, a duke, whose name no longer matters, headed a group of notables, which offered its covert services to King George III, services that necessarily relied on guile, secrecy, influence, and occasionally, assassination.’
‘And was the offer accepted?’ asked Kate.
‘Well, there’s no existing record that it was declined.’
The deputy assistant commissioner gave Kate a moment or two to let her absorb what she’d heard thus far.
‘Go on,’ Kate urged again, though hesitantly, as if this kind of forbidden knowledge might somehow put her in jeopardy. But it was too compelling.
‘Because the Inner Court was never officially acknowledged by the Crown, no connection could ever be suggested, let alone proved, not even to this day. Certainly, there may have been suspicions, but few would have been brave enough to voice them.’
‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ Kate cut in apologetically, ‘but why the “Inner Court”? Why did these people call themselves that?’
‘We think it was because of its lack of faith in the country’s judicial systems and means of commerce – much as it is today. It believed then, as it does now, that Britain should reassert itself as a significant world power.
‘Its original motives were patriotic but, inevitably, too much secrecy lays the foundations for corruption, as does the quest for too much power and political advantage. Eventually, greed became the IC’s cornerstone, and that began to erode their principles and distance them from the Crown as well as the government of the day. Yet the organization had already made itself indispensable to the sovereign state, and by then it knew where the skeletons were buried, so to speak.’
‘Is the monarchy still involved?’
Gloria nodded grimly. ‘You see, although there have been many hushed-up royal scandals throughout the ages, sometimes even minor characters – let’s call them bit-part players – might easily have caused irreparable damage to the Crown’s reputation.
You remember the man called Michael Fagan?’
Kate searched her memory for a moment or two. ‘Fagan. Yes, wasn’t he the trespasser who got into Queen Elizabeth’s bedroom, with the Queen herself inside? That was several years ago, wasn’t it?’
‘July 1982.’
‘They put it down to a freak circumstance and failed security.’
‘Oh, it was that all right. The Buckingham Palace chief of security was quietly moved on some time later.’
‘But how could that harm the Queen’s reputation? If anything, she was praised for her clear-mindedness and courage.’
‘Rightly so. She acted perfectly, no panic whatsoever. But do you really believe a perfect stranger could break into the grounds of the Palace, and then into the building itself with so many guards and police officers protecting the place?’
‘Well, I must admit that at the time I found it all a bit strange. So what was the truth, Glo?’
Gloria sighed uncomfortably. ‘The Palace is well run, its head staff and guards are marvellous at what they do. Unfortunately, some of the below-stairs staff, valets, servants, many of them gay, are known to have little “jollies” from time to time to which both sexual partners and rent boys are invited. The Queen’s Guard barracks, which are not far away, is a hunting ground to find fit young men who are only too eager for a good time. Don’t frown, Kate. It’s not unknown for the House of Commons and House of Lords to be used for similar frivolities.’
She paused. It was evident that Gloria was uneasy about telling her friend of these activities.
‘You really can trust me,’ Kate assured the policewoman quietly. ‘I promise none of this will go any further.’
Gloria rallied. ‘Now there’s no suggestion Fagan was gay – he might have just been a friend of someone who thought a party in one of the staff’s living quarters would be great fun. But here’s the thing: Michael Fagan was never charged for breaking and entering, let alone entering the Queen’s bedroom uninvited. He was later accused of stealing half a bottle of wine, but that was dropped when he was committed for psychiatric evaluation. In other words, he was let off with a slap on the wrist. I think that’s because a deal was done. For his silence about the “below-stairs” shenanigans, he got off scot-free, more or less.’
Gloria sat back in her chair to give Kate time to digest the information.
‘I remember asking myself what had happened to Fagan,’ Kate said slowly. ‘The result was all played down, very low-key, wasn’t it?’
‘That’s right. It was thought to be the best policy at the time.’
‘Rather than honesty?’
‘Of course.’
It was a simple reply and, although Kate was adult enough to know that in government there were little lies and big lies, she hoped her friend hadn’t become hardened to them.
‘You told me you could give me some instances . . .’ Kate let the statement hang in the air between them.
‘Right,’ the policewoman came back briskly. ‘But I’ll keep the next one short. There are more important things which involve Comraich Castle. Now, I’m sure you’ve heard of Paul Burrell, Princess Diana’s “rock”, as he liked to consider himself.’
‘He was the princess’s butler before her tragic accident in Paris.’
Gloria eyed her old friend in a way that made Kate shudder inside.
The policewoman said without a hint of irony, ‘Let’s not go down that particular road, shall we?’ leaving the Institute’s director wondering if the pun was intended.
Gloria was giving nothing more away, and the cold stare dissolved. ‘Sorry. Yes, Burrell was her butler, but claimed to be much more to the late princess: general factotum, shoulder to cry on, the one who helped smuggle her various lovers into Kensington Palace, and most of all – her confidant. Yet when Diana died, Burrell was accused of stealing expensive gifts she’d acquired either on her travels, or from admirers. The police searched his home and found many of them gathering dust in his attic. He maintained Diana had given them all to him to keep for her.
‘Thin story,’ Gloria said, smiling a little, ‘because if she’s dead, who or what was he keeping them for? At any rate, he swore his story was true, but he was still put in the dock. His time there lasted no more than a week, and it soon became evident that some interesting, even salacious stories about the royals and their coterie were going to be made public by Burrell. In fact, his defence counsel could hardly wait to get started.’
‘Ah yes,’ put in Kate, ‘this I do recall very clearly. The whole case against Paul Burrell was mystifyingly dropped when the Queen herself rang the court to say she now remembered the accused had once mentioned to her that Princess Diana had asked him to keep some items in store for her.’
‘That was it. Most people had suspicions about the timing. Burrell knew too many well-kept secrets concerning the royal family and, led by his own defence barrister, was prepared to reveal all in court. Metaphorically speaking, he knew where the bodies were buried. Both the Crown and the prosecutor were alarmed when they realized where his testimony was going and the case was hastily dropped. Ill-repute is not easy for the monarchy to deal with. Heaven knows, they’d had enough problems with Sarah Ferguson, Andrew’s ex-wife and her various flirtations and business capers, which left her virtually bankrupt and her ex-husband to bail her out at least twice. But now, the family, or the “Firm” as they call themselves, have become vulnerable, even less respected by the anti-monarchists, and by many of the ordinary people. Only the Queen’s outstanding personal and public popularity and reputation, along with that of the late Queen Mother, has maintained the standing of the royal family. She’s aware that the monarchy has to modernize, has to live in today’s world, otherwise it will sink. Her problem is how to do that, yet keep that royal mystique.’
‘No mean task these days.’
‘No, and our sovereign is ageing, although she rarely lets her weariness show. Incidentally, Katie, it’s my firm conviction Charles will make a fine king, when and if he finally takes the Crown. Today’s media enjoy bringing people down a notch or two, but believe me, he’s a man of much capability and, more importantly, you might say, he has “soul”. Yet he also has a spine of steel. Never underestimate him. He also has two terrific sons who, eventually, will help him carry out his duties.’
‘We’re kind of digressing, Glo.’ Kate was impatient to get to the other, perhaps even more relevant matters that the policewoman was leading up to. ‘I take it the Inner Court plays a part in all this in some way. Does it have some kind of hold over the Crown?’
‘Oh, it would deny that completely. It has no power. What it does have is influence, and that’s because its members know too many secrets of both the Crown and the Establishment.’ Gloria drew in a breath.
‘The first time royalty used the Inner Court was for a reason that most people would find unacceptable. This was the case of poor Prince John. It was shortly after the turn of the last century, when the British Empire was at its height. King George V and Queen Mary hadn’t long succeeded to the throne, and the Great War was looming. One of their children, young Prince Johnnie, had epilepsy, which was considered an unacceptable abnormality then. Johnnie was an embarrassment to the Crown at a time when it needed to be seen as strong. The Inner Court had an isolated castle in Scotland and its members offered to give the young prince refuge there. The offer was reluctantly accepted and the boy and his nanny were sent to Comraich Castle, where he lived privately but in comfort until he died aged thirteen in 1919.’
Kate’s eyes were downcast. ‘A sad story,’ she said.
‘Well,’ Gloria went on, ‘the Inner Court then made itself useful in other ways too. That’s how they got a grip on royalty in the first place.’
‘What do you mean?’ This Inner Court was becoming more sinister to Kate by the moment.
‘Aah.’ It was almost a groan. ‘Let’s just say that the organization has many informers – spies, if you like – some of them in the Pala
ce. And, as they rightly say, information is power, as is influence.’
With a smile on a face that had lost its bloom, Gloria gave a shake of her head. ‘You know, the current royals have sought assistance from the Inner Court too. There are no good guys here.’
‘I can’t believe Queen Elizabeth was ever involved in any skulduggery.’
Gloria merely smiled again.
After a beat, she said, ‘I hate to shatter your illusions. But she’s no fool and she must be tough as old boots by now, truth be known.’
She held up a hand to forestall the protest Kate was about to make.
‘Remember,’ she went on hurriedly, ‘the Queen is surrounded by aides and knighted private secretaries and advisors and such. She has direct access to the top military brass, heads of national security, defence, and foreign policy. And there’s Prince Philip, who remains as sharp as a razor blade, despite his age.’
‘Even so,’ Kate insisted, ‘I can’t see Her Majesty being involved in underhand practices.’
‘Not even for the good of the nation?’
‘Well . . .’
‘Let me tell you about something that has always been dismissed as a foolish conspiracy theory. It happened a long time ago, I’ll admit, under the morally impeccable reign of Queen Victoria. Since then the waters have been deliberately muddied, false claims have come to the surface, and fanciful stories have been perpetuated.’
‘I’m listening.’ Kate wore a look of tolerance.
‘Jack the Ripper . . .’
‘Oh, come on, Glo. All kinds of legends have been told about him.’
‘And one of the more popular tales has a smidgen of truth to it, as they generally do.’
‘One of Queen Victoria’s sons, wasn’t it?’ Kate was mildly scornful. ‘Or her own doctor? Certainly a doctor of some kind.’
Gloria surprised Kate by saying, ‘You’re closer than you might think. I could give you a list of suspects who’ve been named over the years: John Pizer, Walter Sickert, Aaron Kosminski and, yes, even Queen Victoria’s surgeon, Sir William Gull . . . the list goes on. But all were false.’