Naughty In Nice (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

the prince and slipping her arm through his. “Why don’t we go to the bar for a drink until this is all over.”
    “No, Wallis, we have to set an example,” the Prince of Wales said. “We should do all we can to help. Here, Inspector, you can search us first, if you like.”
    Reluctantly the other people in the room lined up to be searched. One thing we British do well is to join a queue. I allowed myself to be inspected, then I went over to the two elderly princesses. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” I said in French. “I do hope I did not hurt you.”
    “Fortunately you do not weigh much,” the Russian princess said in slow, even French. “It was more shock than harm.”
    Princess Marie took my hand and patted it. “What a distressing thing to have happened, ma petite . I knew your dear grandmother well. We were childhood playmates. And your dear great-grandmother— mon Dieu , but she was a terrifying woman. So small but so powerful. I was always struck dumb in her presence.”
    “I never met either of them,” I said. “My only grandparent still alive is my mother’s father.”
    “He was an English nobleman, I presume, because I believe I am acquainted with all those in the Almanach de Gotha .”
    “He’s a former London policeman.”
    “A policeman? You mean a commoner?” If she had been wearing a lorgnette she would have raised it and peered at me.
    I nodded. “My father married an actress.”
    “Your father always was such a silly boy.” She shook her head. “But who am I to criticize—I who married an Irishman.”
    Even in my current state of shock this comment registered. “You did?”
    “A big mistake, as my family told me. But I was twenty-one. I had my own fortune. My husband was of noble family—so charming and handsome, but an absolute scoundrel. He went through my money then ran off with an American heiress. So let that be a lesson to you, my dear. Stay away from Irishmen.”
    After everything else that had just happened I felt as if I might disgrace myself and cry. I fought to keep my face calm and I smiled. “I’ll remember,” I said.
    The line of those to be searched had dwindled and the room emptied. Coco Chanel came up to me. “Come, ma petite . Let us go.”
    “Go where?”
    “Across the hall to the casino where I hold a party to celebrate.”
    “Celebrate?” I said. “I ruined your lovely collection. I allowed the necklace to be stolen.”
    “Nonsense,” she said, waving her cigarette at me. “I love sensations. Now everyone will remember this forever. We will make the front page of tomorrow’s newspapers. The whole world will see my new design.”
    I glanced across at her. I had heard that she was an ambitious and ruthless woman. Was it possible that she arranged for my accident? Or at least that she took me as a model because there was a good chance I would fail and thus give her publicity?
    “But what about the queen’s choker?” I asked. “I feel terrible about it.”
    Coco shrugged. “What can we do? It is now in the hands of the police, although judging from that sad little man, I do not have much hope. So we have no choice but to forget about it for the present and go to the casino.”
    I winced. I felt I should be doing something personally to recover the necklace, but I had no idea what that might be. Then I decided that most of the guests from this event would be at the party at the casino and it would be a good opportunity to observe them and thus rule out those who could not be suspects.
    “I’ll go and change,” I said.
    Coco put her hand on my arm to stop me. “But no. Continue to wear the ensemble, I beg you—you will cause heads to turn at the casino and everyone will know you as chic.”
    I wasn’t so sure that a man’s tweed jacket and lace blouse really made me look elegant, but I supposed that anything Coco did would be counted as chic. “I must take these shoes off, though,” I said. “They are hurting me. I think Vera bought them one size too small.”
    “If you must, you must.” Coco shrugged.
    We went through to the changing room. For some reason I found it hard to walk and almost stumbled again. When I took off my shoes, I noticed something. One of the soles looked as if it had a darker patch on it—as if I had stepped in something. I touched it dubiously. The outer layer was smooth but there were places where that outer layer had worn away, exposing an inner layer of substance that was tacky. Incredibly