Madman's Dance (Time Rovers #3)(163)

“Lots of good people got hurt,” she said.

“Far too many.”

Then Anderson was gone.

She leaned against the bridge railing, staring down into the water below. Copeland’s new home.

So where will you come to rest?





Chapter 23




Sunday, 11 November, 1888

Sandringham Estate

They alighted from the carriage, discomfort translating into organized grooming: shooting of cuffs, straightening of collars, smoothing of hair.

As they waited, Chief Inspector Fisher seemed to be off in his own thoughts. Inspector Ramsey stood next to him, mute, clearly uncomfortable. Keats kept pulling on his collar. Even Alastair was struggling with his nerves. One did not meet the future King of England every day.

“Posh digs,” Keats observed.

Ramsey craned his neck upward. “I wonder how many sweeps they need to clean all those chimneys.”

“I could retire here,” Fisher said, a bit louder. “I wonder if they’d mind if I just took up a few rooms. Probably wouldn’t miss them.”

More tentative smiles.

“This way, sirs,” a servant announced, guiding them forward with gloved hands and a noiseless tread.

They found themselves in a room with an intricately carved minstrel’s gallery. It promised grand balls and the sound of gay music.

“Well, gentlemen, our moment has arrived,” Fisher announced quietly.

A door opened to admit His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales. Behind him was a tall, gaunt young man who wore a high collar. As he took his place near the prince, Alastair realized it was the Duke of Clarence, second in line to the throne. The young man’s disinterested expression immediately caught his notice.

“Your Royal Highnesses,” Fisher said, bowing. All the others followed suit.

“Ah, you must be Chief Inspector Fisher,” the Prince of Wales replied.



“Yes, Your Royal Highness. With your permission, I would like to present Inspector Ramsey and former Detective-Sergeant Keats. They were instrumental in preventing the anarchist’s attack.”

Alastair felt a pang of regret that Jacynda and her Mr. Morrisey weren’t here. They’d been as much a part of the effort as the rest of them.

“Good day, gentlemen,” the prince replied.

“Your Royal Highness, this is Dr. Alastair Montrose. He assisted us in our efforts. If I may say, his efforts are proving a boon to Scotland Yard.”

“I have heard of you, Doctor,” the prince replied. “You assist another physician…Bishop, I believe his name is.”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness. I am most honored to work with such a learned man…and with Scotland Yard.”

“I read your testimony in the newspaper, how you determined that Mr. Keats here was not of sufficient stature to have murdered that woman.” The prince nodded his approval. “Stellar work, I must say. New ways are upon us, gentlemen. Don’t you agree, Eddy?”

His son blinked and then nodded. “Indeed.” He seemed bored by the conversation.

“Our enemies are very clever,” the prince continued. “This whole affair speaks of dangers the like of which we can only imagine.” He eyed Fisher. “I understand you are taking retirement, Chief Inspector. Is there no way you can be persuaded to remain at your post?”

“I am honored, Your Royal Highness, but I am ready to hand off the reins and, frankly, I believe Home Office is ready for my departure. Inspector Ramsey will be assuming my position. He will do a fine job.”

Ramsey shifted his feet, uncomfortable with the praise.

“I am sure he shall.” The prince turned toward Keats. “And you, sir, to what will you turn your hand now that you are no longer with the Yard?”

“I have been encouraged to become an agent of private enquiry, Your Royal Highness. In that way, my training will not go to waste.”



“Excellent. Miss Lassiter speaks highly of you, sir, and your staunch spirit during the trial bears strong witness to your honor. I shall keep you in mind, lest we have an issue of a private nature that would need such talent as yours.”

Keats swallowed in surprise.

At a gesture from the Prince of Wales, a footman bustled up.

“Gentlemen, you have the gratitude of the Queen and the country for your unfailing service. God knows how many would have perished if you had not risen to the call in this time of need.” He solemnly handed each a box and an envelope. “A token of our appreciation.”

They bowed in unison.

“Might you have time for a whiskey?” the prince asked.

“Well, certainly, Your Royal Highness,” Fisher said, astonished at the offer. “We would be very honored.”

“Then come along. I just received some fine cigars in honor of my birthday. Let’s break them out, and you can tell us about this ordeal. It sounds most hellish.”

An hour later, warmed by the excellent spirits, the quartet loosened their collars as the carriage rattled toward the train station.

“It has been a week, I must say,” Keats observed. “I’m nearly hanged, then almost blown to bits, and then I get to sip spirits with the next monarch.”

Ramsey pulled a frown. “Not to speak ill, but I don’t think the Duke of Clarence is the sharpest hatchet in the woodshed.”