Buckingham Palace Blues by James Craig Page A

actually see him exit or enter the Palace?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘There are more than five hundred people working in here at any given time . . .’
    ‘I know that.’
    ‘At the weekend, there was a State Banquet for the Sultan of Brunei, so you can double that figure – even triple it.’ Adam laid his palms on the table. ‘Then there are the tourists . . . and that’s just inside.’ He let out a long breath. ‘Outside, goodness knows how many people are milling about at any given time. You, my friend, really are looking for the needle in the haystack.’
    ‘Fore!’
    The sound of breaking glass was followed by the angry whinny of a horse.
    Carlyle rose halfway out of his chair and peered through the window. In front of the shrubbery, three men stood holding plastic buckets in which they were collecting the golf balls being pinged across the lawn by a gent in a tweed cap, standing two hundred or so yards away. ‘I see the Duke still likes to practise his game in the back garden.’ He smirked.
    Adam groaned. ‘His youngest son has just taken up the game, too. If anything, he’s even worse than his father.’
    ‘Are those your guys on ball collection duty?’ Carlyle asked, sitting back down.
    Adam coloured slightly, but did not respond.
    ‘A great use of public money, I reckon.’
    ‘Ours not to reason why, Inspector,’ Adam bridled. ‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’
    ‘I was wondering,’ Carlyle said, ‘if I could have a list of all staff currently working at the Palace – including the SO14 roster, of course.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘I would like to speak to everyone who was on duty on Saturday night.’
    Adam frowned. ‘Is that really necessary?’
    Carlyle shrugged. ‘I have to start somewhere.’
    ‘Inspector,’ Adam let out an exasperated snort, ‘I have just explained how many people we have here, as if you didn’t already know that. It would take forever to interview them all. And because of what? A hunch?’
    Carlyle said nothing.
    Adam raised an eyebrow. ‘How much manpower would such an investigation require? How much time?’
    Carlyle smiled weakly but said nothing. After almost thirty years in the Metropolitan Police, he knew that efficiency and value for money were alien concepts to the Force. The only time anyone ever raised cost as an issue was when they wanted an excuse to stop you from doing something.
    ‘I have to say,’ Adam continued, ‘that it sounds like a complete waste of time to me. And there was me thinking that you seemed so keen on seeing the efficient use of public funds.’
    ‘It’s my investigation,’ Carlyle replied evenly. ‘I would also like to see the CCTV images taken from the Constitution Hill side of the property around the time I found the girl on Saturday night.’
    Adam eyed him carefully. ‘Does Carole Simpson know about this?’
    ‘Yes.’ Carlyle nodded. It was, he decided, kind of true.
    Adam sat back in his chair and stared at his precious tea caddy. ‘Well,’ he said mechanically, ‘if the commander sends me a formal request, in line with the established and agreed protocols, I will see what I can do.’
    Carlyle realised that this was the best he was going to get. ‘That is very kind.’ He smiled as he stood up. ‘Thank you very much for your help, sir.’
    ‘My pleasure,’ Adam said, reaching across the table and offering him another limp handshake. ‘It’s good to meet you at last. I must say, I’m glad you weren’t here on my watch. We run a tight ship here now.’
    ‘I’m sure you do,’ Carlyle said politely. ‘I’m sure you do.’
    He got back to the office to find a stack of documents sitting on his desk. On top of it was a large yellow Post-it note. Carlyle read the scribble – Don’t ask where these came from and burn after reading, Joe – and laughed. Sitting back in his chair, he put his feet up on the desk and flipped through the papers. They contained summary details of everyone currently working in Royal