Prince Matthew came next with such punctuality that he must have set off before David had returned. The young Prince sank down into the chair facing his inquisitor looking troubled. He opened his mouth, but no words escaped his lips, so he merely shut it again.
‘Your Majesty?’ Jon asked after a minute of Matthew’s odd silence.
The young Royal just peered at him, clearly troubled by a quandary. ‘I have been thinking about what I said to you before you began these audiences. I have been thinking about whether I could actually kill someone, even if that person did kill my grandfather. I don’t suppose I could. That took me on to wondering about the rest of my family – and their capabilities. That is what state I am in now – Christmas Day and wondering which of my family filled my grandfather’s cup full of poison.’
‘It is sometimes hard to know the lengths someone will go to get what they want.’
Matthew sifted a hand through his sandy hair and let out a long sigh. ‘How are you doing, Jon? Are you any closer?’
‘I do not know, sir. I don’t have a full picture yet. It will help if I can ask you some questions.’
‘Of course. I will help in any way I can.’
‘Let us start with this morning.’ Jon felt like a botched time traveller, cursed to go back to the same point in his history. This cursed morning. ‘You were with your family?’
‘Yes. I went to my father’s room at around seven o’clock to wish him a Happy Christmas. My father and I watched The Monarch while my mother went for breakfast with my aunt. She came back to his room and we watched maybe two more episodes before my aunt came to inform us that the King was holding several private audiences. She took my mother to him then, but I knew my time would eventually come.’
‘How did you feel about it?’ Jon inquired.
‘Not fantastic, as you can probably surmise. I knew what it was going to be about. My grandfather has always groomed me to be the next king. I thought that time had come.’
‘When it finally came time for your audience, is that truly what it was about?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid to say. He was going to announce his withdrawal from power at the after-dinner speech. Then, naturally, it would be time for me to step up. However, here is where everyone in that drawing room is wrong. I’m sure they are all thinking, maybe not even knowingly, that I could have killed my grandfather to inherit the role of monarch . . . ’ Jon knew that to be true, at least somewhat. Prince David had expressed that very sentiment. ‘What they don’t know though is that I have been fighting with my grandfather for years over this issue.’
‘In what way?’
Matthew sat straight upright in his chair. He had tears in his eyes, but it seemed that even he did not know quite who they were for. ‘I do not want it, Jon. I never wanted to be king. I looked at my grandfather and saw nothing but a vessel – a man celebrated as a god and shackled as a prisoner. The sick truth is that he was both. For what would we do if we found ourselves in the presence of a god? We would bind it, imprison it, and make sure it would stay.
‘You had a special relationship with him, Jon – you were friends for years. You must have seen it too. Eric Windsor could have been a great man, and in some ways he was, but in others he was nothing. Did he ever tell you what he would have liked for his life?’
‘Yes,’ Jon said, as Eric had told him once. It was after a state dinner, not too long ago. The King was slightly worse for wear and he had stumbled into the kitchens, waxing lyrical about the man that he could have been. ‘He would have liked to be a doctor. He said that there was no greater puzzle than the human body, the fixing of the physical being and the fixing of the soul. That was where his love of puzzle boxes came from. It was the closest he could get to his dream.’
‘Why would anyone willingly lock themselves in a prison?’ Matthew posed the question. ‘The lions willingly walking into that pen and limiting themselves, just for the pleasure of getting gawked at by the family who went to the zoo. There are those in my family who would want this burden – my grandmother, my father, my granduncle, my aunt, maybe even my mother. I do not understand why my grandfather was so fixated on me taking up the mantle.’
‘He never told you why?’
‘No, never. The closest he ever got was when he talked about the need for a new perspective on the role. I think maybe he wanted someone young and contemporary to become the monarch in hope of trying to shake up the establishment. He had already started laying the groundwork – changing the succession rules. It is no secret that he had become slightly more disgruntled than usual of late with the old way of doing things.’
Jon slowly nodded as he thought back to his conversation with the King just this morning.
It’s a big day, old friend, the King had said. Thank you for being here with me.
On the surface, the King was talking about Christmas, but looking deeper it could easily be inferred that he was referring to his stepping down. The end of an old chapter and the start of a new one.
‘My grandfather was always five steps ahead of everyone else in the room. He has that brain built for these kinds of things. Mysteries. It is almost apt that he became one himself.’ Matthew ran the underside of his right hand under his chin. It was a very common motion for the young Prince when he was faced with a problem. ‘I wonder if he didn’t tell Tony Speck that he had an inkling something was wrong.’
‘Speck?’
‘Yes. It stands to reason that he would tell the head of security, who is also the only security personnel on the property. That might also explain Speck’s absence throughout this whole ordeal. If Speck had learned that the King thought himself in danger, the last thing he would think would be that the danger would come from within, so Speck, in his infinite duty, would double down on . . . ’
‘. . . protecting the perimeter,’ Jon finished, cutting in with such aplomb that he instantly felt ashamed. Matthew merely nodded though, showing no disapproval whatsoever.
The Prince had definitely seized upon something here – Speck being almost obsessive about walking the grounds of Balmoral must have had a genesis, and this would explain it, but the question still remained why no one else had been alerted and why Speck wasn’t answering his walkie.
‘It is only a working theory,’ said Matthew, sensing the apprehension in the air. ‘That is all any of these theories are, however. We need concrete evidence to secure any kind of truth.’
‘You speak confidently in these kinds of matters,’ Jon said.
Matthew broke his seriousness for a moment, for a crack of gleeful youth to shine through in a smile. ‘I would like to think that I inherited some of my grandfather’s love of puzzles – well, that and I watch a lot of television. I have too much time on my hands.’
Jon wondered if maybe Matthew’s insight, albeit in a fictional stance, could help further – indeed he was wondering why Matthew was not the detective himself. ‘Seeing as you have more of a background for this type of thing – who would be your prime suspect?’
Matthew laughed – a joyless thing that betrayed his feelings. ‘That is simple: my grandmother. I would stake my entire life on the fact that she would hold such hate in her heart. She has always resented my grandfather, for as long as I can remember. She wanted to be queen, she wanted the power, and she expected to get it. But then my grandfather, for reasons unknown, did not allow it. Oh, how I wish I was a fly on the wall for that conversation.’
‘Do you know why the King denied the Princess Royal this?’
‘No more than you, Jon. No more than any of us. That was between King Eric and Marjorie. Princess Marjorie. Or the bloody Princess Royal or whatever she calls herself. I almost understand how that could foster a special kind of loathing.’
‘Thank you for your answers, Prince Matthew.’
‘Of course – are we done? Should I send another along?’
Jon braced himself. Maybe it was time to talk to the matriarch herself.