Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(56)

‘Not a problem,’ he replied, leading her up the steps and into the house. ‘I’m just delighted you made it.’

As Ross entered the house, he was surprised to find it was anything but glitzy and vulgar. Beth and William would certainly have admired an art collection that would have graced a gallery. Was it possible he’d misjudged the man?

An under-butler peeled Ross off from the main party and guided him on a long circuitous route to the west wing, before dumping him in a room that was cramped and cold and could only have been described as staff quarters. Ross accepted that that was exactly how Chalabi thought of him.

Once he’d unpacked, he carried out an inspection of the grounds. He began by walking around the perimeter of the property, which took him almost forty minutes. The ten-foot flint stone wall that surrounded the entire estate would have put off the most determined professional burglar, let alone a trainee.

Ross introduced himself to the guard on the front gate, whom he thought he recognized. He was assured that during the weekend there would never be fewer than three guards on duty twenty-four/seven; one on the gate, with two more patrolling the grounds. After confirming there was no other entrance to the estate, Ross made his way back to the house, stopping only to admire the vast oval lake which was stocked with asagi carp. He’d once read that asagi were so highly prized, they cost as much as a thousand pounds each. Ross tried not to think how many of them it would take to fill a lake that size; another way of Chalabi subtly reminding his guests how wealthy he was.

When he returned to the house, there was no sign of HRH or her host, although so many staff were rushing about, they might have been preparing for a banquet, rather than what he had been led to believe would be a cosy tête-à-tête supper.

Ross entered the dining room to find a long oak table had been set for twenty-four, with the finest Wedgwood china, an array of Baccarat wine glasses and a silver cutlery service that took up almost every available space. A tall vase of white orchids dominated the centre of the table.

He checked the place cards and recognized a few well-known names, and some others that were vaguely familiar, but mostly they were unknown to him. He suspected they all had one thing in common; they were there to be impressed by the presence at Chalabi’s table of HRH, so they could be made use of at a later date. Not for the first time, he reflected ruefully that Diana was so sophisticated at some levels, while being so na?ve at others. However, he accepted that there was little he could do about it.

Ross spent the rest of the afternoon carrying out a thorough examination of the house’s layout, identifying all its entrances and exits. When the hall clock struck six, he returned to his room, took a shower and changed into a dinner jacket. He was standing discreetly in a corner of the hall twenty minutes before the first guest arrived, and he remained at a distance throughout the evening. The finest wines and dish after dish of mouth-watering food passed him every few minutes, and from the exuberant noise and banter that flowed during dinner it was clear that everyone was enjoying themselves, although he wasn’t convinced it was HRH’s idea of a Saturday night on the tiles. He didn’t return to his room in the west wing until the last guest had departed.

Ross left the curtains in his room open and his window ajar so the dawn chorus would ensure he was among the first to wake.

He climbed into bed just before one o’clock and quickly fell asleep.

? ? ?

Ross had showered and shaved, and was just about to go down for breakfast, when a discreet red light began flashing on the telephone next to his bed. He picked up the phone, surprised HRH was already awake, but before he could say a word he recognized Chalabi’s voice, and remained silent.

‘They’ve been told to expect you at the gate, but once you’re on the estate, make yourself scarce, because Diana’s protection officer will be hanging around. Nothing would give him greater pleasure than to kick you out, and I wouldn’t be able to prevent it.’

‘I know that bastard only too well,’ said a second voice that Ross immediately recognized. ‘He kneed me in the balls once, and if he came across me again, he’d happily throw me over the wall.’

‘Do you think we’ll make the front pages tomorrow?’ Chalabi asked.

‘Along with several inside pages,’ promised the second voice. ‘But I wouldn’t recommend you letting Di read them over breakfast, or you’ll be toast.’

‘Don’t worry, she’ll have gone long before then.’

‘When are you seeing her next?’

‘Thursday, at Harry’s Bar, eight o’clock. Make sure you’re there,’ said Chalabi, before hanging up.

When the light went off, Ross suddenly had a purpose – to make sure no photographs from the weekend appeared in any morning papers.

Ross went down the back stairs and had a quick breakfast in the kitchen. Although he was met with the occasional questioning look, no one asked him why he was wearing a black tracksuit and black trainers.

After downing his orange juice, he slipped out of the back door and made his way quickly to the edge of the forest. From his concealed position he could see HRH enjoying breakfast with her host on the veranda. It wasn’t difficult to work out where the line of fire would be for a hit man or a paparazzi photographer, but it would still require all his skills to take this particular snapper by surprise now he’d been warned to be on the lookout for him.