Murder Most Royal

‘I honestly thought it was a deer, escaped from the bog, or a badger. I didn’t see anything, but there was suddenly just this . . . thud. And a sort of paleness against the windscreen. I panicked. I slowed down and looked behind me and I couldn’t see anything in the road, and then I saw a dark shape and I thought perhaps it had been a badger after all.’

‘You didn’t stop,’ the Queen repeated, sharply.

‘I couldn’t.’ He flushed.

She saw how wretched he looked and added, ‘I think we’d better sit down after all.’

She took the armchair he had originally offered her, and he slumped into the heavy office chair beside the desk.

‘You seem to know about me and Helena,’ he said dully. ‘We’d arranged this night away. We tried to go somewhere nobody would see us. There’s this little place near Holkham . . . We drove back separately. I’d had a couple of glasses of Shiraz at lunch and I knew if the police breathalysed me I’d lose my licence, and this brand-new job I had here, which was everything I’d worked for, and .

 . . Everything was so good.’ He looked at the Queen with baleful, bloodhound eyes. ‘It was all so good,’ he repeated, ‘and I didn’t want to lose it all over a bloody badger.’

‘A badger.’ The Queen gave him an implacable stare. ‘And the next day? You must have found out by then what had really happened.’

He looked down and said nothing.

‘You could have gone to the police then. They were asking for witnesses.’

‘Yes.’ His eyes rose to meet hers eventually. ‘I could. But by then .

 . .’ He shrugged and looked defeated. ‘She was in hospital. There was nothing I could do.’

‘Judy Raspberry was not a badger, Mr Cassidy.’

‘I know that!’ His shame came out as a defensive bark. ‘But I made one mistake. I tried to cover it up, but . . . It’s happened and it’s ruined my life anyway. I can’t change anything.’ He shrugged again, helplessly. ‘Helena gave the witness statement. Now, she won’t talk to me.’

The Queen regarded him in silence for a while.

He muttered something so incoherent she didn’t catch it.

‘I said, I suppose you need my resignation in the morning, ma’am.’

‘I need honesty, and trust, Mr Cassidy. I need a certain amount of moral courage. When you’ve decided what to do, we’ll talk again.’

She made her own way out of the office, leaving him standing in a daze.

It had been a very difficult afternoon. She hoped there was chocolate biscuit cake for tea.

The following day was Sunday, which was designated for reflection.