Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(27)
The guests listened to Diana’s words with rapt attention, laughed at her jokes and, when she sat down, they rose as one to give her a standing ovation few politicians would ever experience. Not for the first time, Ross wondered if she ever thought about how different her life would have been if she hadn’t married the Prince of Wales.
It was finally the turn of the charity’s auctioneer to coax money out of the guests. He offered them everything from a box at the Royal Albert Hall for the Last Night of the Proms, to a couple of debenture seats for the women’s semi-finals at Wimbledon. After the last item had come under the hammer, he announced that the auction had raised ￡160,000 for the charity, which was greeted with further loud applause. The Princess leant across and whispered something in the auctioneer’s ear.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, returning to the microphone. ‘Her Royal Highness has agreed to sign your tablecloths for any generous person who will donate one thousand pounds to the charity.’
Several hands immediately shot up, and Ross accompanied the Princess as she moved from table to table, signing the white linen cloths, and a number of napkins – for ￡500 – using a black felt-tip pen supplied by her lady-in-waiting.
When she finally returned to the top table, the auctioneer announced that the charity had benefited by a further ￡42,000, making a grand total of ￡202,000 which would benefit disadvantaged children in need of heart surgery.
Once again, the audience rose to their feet, the sign it was time for the Princess to leave. Ross stepped forward and cleared a path to ensure she had an uninterrupted journey back to the main entrance. As she passed the auctioneer she whispered, ‘Thank you, Jeffrey, it never fails.’ The auctioneer bowed, but didn’t comment. During his time in the Met, Ross had often witnessed blatant deception, but never at a royal level. As the Princess stepped outside, the flashbulbs once again began to pop, while Ross continued to scan the crowd, some members of which had hung around for hours, hoping for a second glance.
Ross then witnessed one of those personal touches that made Diana so popular with the public. She spotted someone she recognized as having been there when she’d first arrived, and stopped to chat to them. Ross didn’t relax until she finally climbed into the back of the car, where Victoria was waiting for her.
The Jaguar moved slowly off, allowing Diana to continue waving until the last well-wisher was out of sight, when she breathed a deep sigh of relief.
‘Two hundred and two thousand, ma’am. Not bad,’ said Victoria as the car speeded up and two police outriders, their lights flashing and shrill whistles blasting at every junction, cleared the path for her smooth return to Kensington Palace.
‘What next?’ Diana asked.
‘Nothing else today, ma’am,’ said Victoria. ‘You can relax this evening and enjoy Blind Date with Cilla Black.’
‘Perhaps I should enter?’ she said wistfully.
Ross had quickly come to realize that Diana never wanted to relax. The rush of adrenaline she experienced at these public functions was what kept her going. He still hadn’t told William that he’d yet to meet the Prince of Wales.
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‘It’s good of you to join us, BW,’ said Sir Julian, after Booth Watson arrived a few minutes late for their meeting, which didn’t surprise the home team. ‘I think you already know my junior, who assisted me when you and I crossed swords during Faulkner’s first trial.’
‘You needn’t look forward to the same result this time, young lady,’ said Booth Watson, giving Grace a patronizing smile and receiving a curt nod in return.
‘And my instructing solicitor for this case,’ Sir Julian continued, ignoring the barb, ‘will be Clare Sutton.’ Booth Watson barely acknowledged her before taking his seat on the other side of the table. ‘I thought it might be useful to have a preliminary discussion now that the trial date has been set.’
‘Couldn’t agree more,’ said Booth Watson, taking the Crown by surprise. ‘That’s assuming you have something worthwhile to offer that I can take back to my client for his consideration.’
‘Not a great deal,’ admitted Sir Julian, unwilling to reveal his hand. ‘We will be recommending that the judge doubles Mr Faulkner’s present sentence to sixteen years, which I doubt will come as a surprise to you. However,’ he continued before Booth Watson could respond, ‘Mr Justice Cummings has agreed to knock two years off the sentence if your client pleads guilty, which would save the court considerable time and expense.’
The three of them waited for the volcano to erupt, but no lava appeared.
‘I will put your offer to my client,’ said Booth Watson, ‘and let you know his response.’
‘Are there any mitigating circumstances that you would like us to consider at this juncture?’ asked Grace, delivering a well-prepared line.
‘None that I can think of, Ms Warwick,’ came back the immediate reply. ‘But should anything arise following my consultation with Mr Faulkner, you’ll be the first to hear.’
Once again, Sir Julian was taken by surprise, and it was a few moments before he responded. ‘Well, if there’s nothing more to discuss, BW, we’ll wait to hear back from you in the fullness of time.’
‘That’s good of you, Julian,’ said Booth Watson, rising from his seat. ‘I’ll be seeing my client towards the end of the week, and will be back in touch as soon as I’ve received my instructions.’