Murder Most Royal

One tends to spot inconsistencies eventually. And then, there are the dogs.’

‘But first there’s the question of Valentine. I wondered at first if the problem was something he’d done, but now we know it’s simply who he is.’

Rozie thought at first that the Boss was referring to his sexuality. This was not a ‘problem’, surely? She was wondering how to disapprove respectfully when the Queen went on:

‘Moira Westover suggested he first got a hint of it at Lee Mundy’s funeral. It must have been quite a shock.’

‘Oh, you mean his paternity.

Do you think that’s when Ned told him that he was his father?’ Rozie asked.

‘Actually I don’t. I think Ned was more than happy for it to remain a secret. It suited his purposes well. But Valentine worked it out. Perhaps it was a look Ned gave him, or a gesture they had in common. Anyway, he was right.’

‘Certainly,’ the Queen agreed, without hesitation. ‘There are many things men have done through history for a title. Women, too, of course.’

‘So you think he’s the killer?’ Rozie asked.

The Queen’s gaze was steady and unblinking. ‘No.’

Rozie thought the Boss might be avoiding a delicate issue.

‘I know it’s all circumstantial evidence at the moment,’ she argued. ‘But the circumstances add up, ma’am. They know he had the opportunity, if he worked with his fiancé. We know he had a motive. Surely the police do, too?’

‘And yet . . . there’s nothing to connect him to the murder.’ The Queen explained what the chief constable had told her about the lack of DNA evidence.

‘DNA gives, and it takes away.’

Rozie pursed her lips and frowned.

‘It isn’t that,’ the Queen said. ‘Quite the reverse. But thank you for challenging my argument. It’s what I want you to do. Sometimes I feel too close to this case. I need you to mark my homework.’

‘Oh. OK,’ Rozie said, unable to hide her surprise. This was a new development. Arguing with the Boss might take some getting used to. But if it helped . . .

The Queen invited Rozie to sit down with her, to facilitate conversation and avoid straining her neck.

‘It starts with genetics,’ she said. ‘I, of all people, should understand that better than anyone. An obsession with genetics caused the original crime, but it was love that caused the next one. And carelessness that caused the third.’

‘The third?’ Rozie asked. ‘Do you mean Mrs Raspberry?’

‘No. Although you’re right,’ the Queen acknowledged, ‘it was pure carelessness that caused poor Mrs Raspberry to be knocked over.