Murder Most Royal — читать онлайн бесплатно полностью

‘Overall, victims of homicide are eighty per cent men. But those killed by a partner are eighty per cent women, I’ll give you that.’

‘That’s it!’ Mrs Maddox announced, unknowingly mirroring the Queen’s reaction. ‘Enough murder talk on Christmas Day. Now, will somebody make me a negroni and let’s talk about something else?’

After a feverish night, the Queen woke early. The sky beyond her bedroom window was a watercolour wash of pink and lavender, infused from below with frosty light. She sat quietly against her pillows for some time, waiting for her headache to abate and grateful, for once, that there wasn’t room at Sandringham for her personal piper.

Downstairs, the more active members of the family were gathering for a hearty fry-up, ready for the traditional Boxing Day shoot. Some of the women would be joining the men, while others had breakfast in their rooms and took the chance to recover from two days of festivities. Shooting was largely a man’s sport anyway, in the Queen’s experience.

At least, it had been in her father’s day.

This morning, the royal party assembling in the gun lobby would be a slimmed-down version of Sandringham in its pomp. Since Philip’s heart operation he travelled as an observer only. William was still keen on the tradition, but of course he wasn’t here. And Harry had developed a sensitivity to blood sports and wasn’t going out with the guns today.

The tide of history was on Harry’s side, she thought.

When she and Philip were young it had seemed quite natural to combine a love of field sports and wildlife conservation – necessary, even – and yet that combination had now become a paradox. Charles, aware of this, had given up the hunt and tried to be seen less and less with a shotgun in his hands. The Queen wondered where this loss of tradition would stop. So much of the countryside worked the way it did, with hedgerows and copses as cover for birds, because sportsmen kept it that way. What would happen without keepers and sporting farmers to look after it? By the time little George took over, would it be one big theme park with ‘royalty’ rides, or, God forbid, a massive golf course with sterile putting greens?

At least there was one advantage to Harry’s sudden aversion to blood sports: it meant he could keep her company and help her with the jigsaw. She was looking forward to hearing more about the girlfriend.