spread open next to the edge of the blood pool.
“I would think it is obvious, even to you, Major,” said Colonel Gaines with condescension in his voice.
“That this is a suicide?” asked Taggart.
“Of course,” he said.
Taggart grinned.
Inspector Drummond said, “While we’re waiting, you’ll want to see what we found in the changing rooms.”
He led Sam and Liza across the vast chamber through two more swinging pebbled-glass doors. It was no ordinary locker room. There were eight individual rooms in it, all of them facing onto a circular marble courtyard. Each one was the size of a railway compartment and furnished with a gold-inlaid dressing table, matching ballroom mirror, and carved walnut armoire. The dressing tables were adorned with vases of fresh flowers, combs, hairbrushes, and vials of various perfumes and ointments. Privacy in each room could be achieved by closing a matched set of painted Chinese screens.
Only one of the rooms appeared to have been in recent use. A British Wren officer’s uniform lay on the floor inside it. A matching navy greatcoat was draped over the dressing-table chair. Liza could see the two embroidered gold rings of a Royal Navy lieutenant sewn into the cuffs of the uniform coat on the floor. A gold brassard signifying staff rank was attached to the right shoulder.
The uniform skirt lay in a circular heap next to the dressing table, as if the owner had simply stepped out of it. A black lace bra, matching black panties, and two nylon stockings were strewn in a broken line toward the swinging doors that led to the pool.
“No one has moved anything?” asked Taggart.
“Just this,” said Inspector Drummond, handing him a thin leather wallet. “Colonel Gaines found it lying on the dressing table. It is Lady Jocelyn Dunbar’s.”
Liza’s eyes widened as she heard the familiar name.
“Lady Jocelyn Dunbar?” she repeated, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Of course,” replied Colonel Gaines with irritation. “She is a Windsor on her maternal side … a second cousin to the Prince of Wales. Otherwise, she would not have received privileges from the King to bathe here.”
“Did you check the wallet for fingerprints before picking it up?” asked Taggart.
“Why would I?” said Gaines. “It’s clearly a case of suicide.”
“Brilliant,” said Taggart. “I guess that’s how you got to be head of the King’s security staff.”
Colonel Gaines’s face colored as Taggart opened the billfold. Inside was Joss Dunbar’s Royal Navy identity card, along with an unused ration book, an expired driver’s license, two five-pound banknotes, and a roughly cropped photograph of a young blonde girl in riding clothes on a chestnut horse. After putting on his glasses to examine the ragged edge, Taggart handed the picture to Liza.
“It’s Joss,” she said, her voice cracking as she handed it back to him. “She was probably no more than fourteen at the time.”
“The other half of the picture is missing,” said Taggart, holding it out to Gaines. “You can see that it was recently torn in half.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t do it,” declared Gaines heatedly.
One of the men in coveralls came through the swinging doors that led back to the pool.
“We’re almost done in there, Colonel,” he said.
Liza fought to control her emotions as she followed the others back into the pool area. The water level had dropped much farther, and she could now see the outline of a dark form just under the surface near the sidewall, about ten feet from the deepest end.
“Aside from the damage from the bombing raid, were there any indications of forced entry?” asked Taggart. “Damaged locks on the doors?”
“Not that we have determined,” said Drummond, glancing warily at Colonel Gaines.
Sam and Liza stood on the white marble apron, staring down at the surface of the pool as the blonde girl emerged from the pink water.
“Sweet Jesus,” called out one of the men in
“I would think it is obvious, even to you, Major,” said Colonel Gaines with condescension in his voice.
“That this is a suicide?” asked Taggart.
“Of course,” he said.
Taggart grinned.
Inspector Drummond said, “While we’re waiting, you’ll want to see what we found in the changing rooms.”
He led Sam and Liza across the vast chamber through two more swinging pebbled-glass doors. It was no ordinary locker room. There were eight individual rooms in it, all of them facing onto a circular marble courtyard. Each one was the size of a railway compartment and furnished with a gold-inlaid dressing table, matching ballroom mirror, and carved walnut armoire. The dressing tables were adorned with vases of fresh flowers, combs, hairbrushes, and vials of various perfumes and ointments. Privacy in each room could be achieved by closing a matched set of painted Chinese screens.
Only one of the rooms appeared to have been in recent use. A British Wren officer’s uniform lay on the floor inside it. A matching navy greatcoat was draped over the dressing-table chair. Liza could see the two embroidered gold rings of a Royal Navy lieutenant sewn into the cuffs of the uniform coat on the floor. A gold brassard signifying staff rank was attached to the right shoulder.
The uniform skirt lay in a circular heap next to the dressing table, as if the owner had simply stepped out of it. A black lace bra, matching black panties, and two nylon stockings were strewn in a broken line toward the swinging doors that led to the pool.
“No one has moved anything?” asked Taggart.
“Just this,” said Inspector Drummond, handing him a thin leather wallet. “Colonel Gaines found it lying on the dressing table. It is Lady Jocelyn Dunbar’s.”
Liza’s eyes widened as she heard the familiar name.
“Lady Jocelyn Dunbar?” she repeated, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Of course,” replied Colonel Gaines with irritation. “She is a Windsor on her maternal side … a second cousin to the Prince of Wales. Otherwise, she would not have received privileges from the King to bathe here.”
“Did you check the wallet for fingerprints before picking it up?” asked Taggart.
“Why would I?” said Gaines. “It’s clearly a case of suicide.”
“Brilliant,” said Taggart. “I guess that’s how you got to be head of the King’s security staff.”
Colonel Gaines’s face colored as Taggart opened the billfold. Inside was Joss Dunbar’s Royal Navy identity card, along with an unused ration book, an expired driver’s license, two five-pound banknotes, and a roughly cropped photograph of a young blonde girl in riding clothes on a chestnut horse. After putting on his glasses to examine the ragged edge, Taggart handed the picture to Liza.
“It’s Joss,” she said, her voice cracking as she handed it back to him. “She was probably no more than fourteen at the time.”
“The other half of the picture is missing,” said Taggart, holding it out to Gaines. “You can see that it was recently torn in half.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t do it,” declared Gaines heatedly.
One of the men in coveralls came through the swinging doors that led back to the pool.
“We’re almost done in there, Colonel,” he said.
Liza fought to control her emotions as she followed the others back into the pool area. The water level had dropped much farther, and she could now see the outline of a dark form just under the surface near the sidewall, about ten feet from the deepest end.
“Aside from the damage from the bombing raid, were there any indications of forced entry?” asked Taggart. “Damaged locks on the doors?”
“Not that we have determined,” said Drummond, glancing warily at Colonel Gaines.
Sam and Liza stood on the white marble apron, staring down at the surface of the pool as the blonde girl emerged from the pink water.
“Sweet Jesus,” called out one of the men in
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