globe?”
Bainbridge sighed heavily. “Well … yes, I see your point, Miss Hobbes, and I apologise for my impassioned outburst.” He paused for a moment to regain his composure. “The notion behind the bureau was to create a network of specialist agents who were free from the … the … constraints of being sanctioned operatives of the Queen.”
“Constraints?” prompted Veronica, pushing for further explanation.
“Well, we all know what she’s like!” said Bainbridge, a hint of the former anger edging once more into his voice. “We know she has a very particular way of doing things, and a rather skewed opinion of her own worth.”
Newbury sat forward, shocked to hear such utterances from the mouth of his old friend. “Charles! You astound me.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you’re shocked, Newbury. You saw her today.” Newbury noticed that Bainbridge was clenching his fists in frustration. “Overall, I believe the Queen still acts in the interest of the Empire, but she has never allowed it to prevent her from acting for her own good. You know that as well as I do. The most important thing to the Queen is the Queen herself.” He sat back, folding his arms across his chest defensively.
“So you’re saying that the men and women working for the Secret Service are free from such petty concerns?” asked Veronica, doubtfully.
“Not at all. Simply that all decisions are made by a committee, so we are able to insulate ourselves against the singular will of one overriding egoist. Better decisions are made that way, Miss Hobbes, and the good of the nation is always paramount.”
“I’d never have marked you down as a democrat, Charles,” said Newbury, smirking, “but I applaud you wholeheartedly for it.”
Bainbridge shrugged dismissively. “So there you have it. I maintain wholeheartedly that the Secret Service is not in any way responsible for the murder of Her Majesty’s agents.”
“Even,” said Veronica, refusing to let the matter drop, “if the actions of those agents were, in the opinion of your committee, considered to be counter to the good of the British people?”
“Well … I … you’re asking me an impossible, hypothetical question!” replied Bainbridge.
“Am I?” ventured Veronica, quietly.
“Charles is not alone in his assertions, Miss Hobbes. I have not yet elaborated on the reason for the Prince of Wales’s visit to Chelsea yesterday afternoon. At this juncture he very much echoes the sentiments of the chief inspector here, in that he believes the Queen is becoming too self-involved and inward looking, and in so doing is allowing the enemies of the Empire to grow bolder.” Newbury glanced over at Bainbridge, who appeared to be listening to him intently. “He fears that operatives allied to hostile foreign agencies are currently in London, including those of his cousin, the Kaiser, who he suggests is spoiling for a war. If he can be believed—and I have no reason to think that he cannot—then perhaps those same foreign agents might be responsible for the recent deaths? They may be seeking to undermine the Queen’s power base so her position is weaker if it comes to war or a political coup.”
Veronica was frowning. “It’s certainly possible,” she said. “But forgive me, Sir Maurice, for asking why the Prince of Wales should come to you with such grave concerns?”
Newbury laughed. “Precisely my thought, Miss Hobbes. I asked him the very same question. He said that ever since the little affair we took care of for him in Cambridge, he’s felt he could come to me with his concerns. He asked only that I remain vigilant and report to him any activity that may come to light on the matter.”
“And will you report your theory that those foreign agents might be behind this rash of diabolical murders?” asked Veronica.
“Not yet,” replied Newbury. “I have nothing substantial to support the claim.”
“Angelchrist will have a better idea,” said
Bainbridge sighed heavily. “Well … yes, I see your point, Miss Hobbes, and I apologise for my impassioned outburst.” He paused for a moment to regain his composure. “The notion behind the bureau was to create a network of specialist agents who were free from the … the … constraints of being sanctioned operatives of the Queen.”
“Constraints?” prompted Veronica, pushing for further explanation.
“Well, we all know what she’s like!” said Bainbridge, a hint of the former anger edging once more into his voice. “We know she has a very particular way of doing things, and a rather skewed opinion of her own worth.”
Newbury sat forward, shocked to hear such utterances from the mouth of his old friend. “Charles! You astound me.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you’re shocked, Newbury. You saw her today.” Newbury noticed that Bainbridge was clenching his fists in frustration. “Overall, I believe the Queen still acts in the interest of the Empire, but she has never allowed it to prevent her from acting for her own good. You know that as well as I do. The most important thing to the Queen is the Queen herself.” He sat back, folding his arms across his chest defensively.
“So you’re saying that the men and women working for the Secret Service are free from such petty concerns?” asked Veronica, doubtfully.
“Not at all. Simply that all decisions are made by a committee, so we are able to insulate ourselves against the singular will of one overriding egoist. Better decisions are made that way, Miss Hobbes, and the good of the nation is always paramount.”
“I’d never have marked you down as a democrat, Charles,” said Newbury, smirking, “but I applaud you wholeheartedly for it.”
Bainbridge shrugged dismissively. “So there you have it. I maintain wholeheartedly that the Secret Service is not in any way responsible for the murder of Her Majesty’s agents.”
“Even,” said Veronica, refusing to let the matter drop, “if the actions of those agents were, in the opinion of your committee, considered to be counter to the good of the British people?”
“Well … I … you’re asking me an impossible, hypothetical question!” replied Bainbridge.
“Am I?” ventured Veronica, quietly.
“Charles is not alone in his assertions, Miss Hobbes. I have not yet elaborated on the reason for the Prince of Wales’s visit to Chelsea yesterday afternoon. At this juncture he very much echoes the sentiments of the chief inspector here, in that he believes the Queen is becoming too self-involved and inward looking, and in so doing is allowing the enemies of the Empire to grow bolder.” Newbury glanced over at Bainbridge, who appeared to be listening to him intently. “He fears that operatives allied to hostile foreign agencies are currently in London, including those of his cousin, the Kaiser, who he suggests is spoiling for a war. If he can be believed—and I have no reason to think that he cannot—then perhaps those same foreign agents might be responsible for the recent deaths? They may be seeking to undermine the Queen’s power base so her position is weaker if it comes to war or a political coup.”
Veronica was frowning. “It’s certainly possible,” she said. “But forgive me, Sir Maurice, for asking why the Prince of Wales should come to you with such grave concerns?”
Newbury laughed. “Precisely my thought, Miss Hobbes. I asked him the very same question. He said that ever since the little affair we took care of for him in Cambridge, he’s felt he could come to me with his concerns. He asked only that I remain vigilant and report to him any activity that may come to light on the matter.”
“And will you report your theory that those foreign agents might be behind this rash of diabolical murders?” asked Veronica.
“Not yet,” replied Newbury. “I have nothing substantial to support the claim.”
“Angelchrist will have a better idea,” said
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