He finished the phone call and returned to the table, sombre and puzzled.
‘Another woman done a bunk, has she? Irish? Russian? Are we fighting on two fronts now? Who the hell are we looking for?’ Hopkirk was exasperated.
‘Same one? At all events, someone who can pass as a Russian to gain access … someone who has inside knowledge of the prince’s movements weeks in advance …’
‘But why would a Russian …?’ Chappel spluttered. ‘They’re relations of the prince, aren’t they? The Tsar, God rest his soul, was the spitting image of his cousin, our own King George. People couldn’t tell them apart! Best of friends. That posh lot at the ball tonight would never have the Prince of Wales in their sights. White Russians — monarchists to a man. They’d die defending the English cousin’s boy. Wouldn’t they?’
‘You’re right, Inspector. A Russian would make no such attempt,’ Sandilands said. ‘But we’re looking for a lady who, as you say, knew well in advance that the prince would attend this do. A lady determined enough to obtain and perform work for weeks in advance in a hotel kitchen.’
‘Taking orders from Honeysett,’ Lily murmured. ‘That shows a certain single-mindedness.’
‘What it shows is stamina,’ Hopkirk interrupted. ‘I’ve seen hotel kitchens. Not places for the faint hearted and gently bred. She’ll be a strong lass, then!’
‘Indeed. And she’s able to pass as Russian. I think we may be looking for an actress. Someone who can use a variety of convincing accents to approach her prey. A stalker, a hunter. Skilled at blending in with her background.’
‘A sower of discord and a spreader of mayhem,’ said Hopkirk. ‘What’s her score to date? From where we started counting, that is,’ he added lugubriously. ‘And we may be swinging in a little after the beat. Three dead, as far as we know: an admiral, a London bobby and a Serbian prince; and two critically injured: the butler and the cabby. A bloody-handed goddess of death and destruction. She’s a Morrigan, all right.’
Lily’s voice interrupted the descending gloom. ‘Sir. One thing we might try … I think someone ought to have a word with Princess Ratziatinsky.’