Authors: Lynda La Plante

Royal Heist (46 page)

BOOK: Royal Heist

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The crowds grew even more boisterous as de Jersey opened his wallet and threw fifty-pound notes to those around him. “Royal Flush is going to win,” he shouted, and they scrabbled for the money as they cheered.

On the other side of the track, the police telescopic cameras finally picked him out, but with the race about to start, it was impossible to get cars and officers across the track. All the officers positioned in and around Gypsy Hill were instructed to move in and arrest him. The newscasters and racing correspondents were having the day of their lives.

“Added to the excitement felt around this wonderful race is the news that the most wanted man in Britain is here, mixing with the crowds. His horse, Royal Flush, is now at the start, and until the race is over it seems that there is nothing anyone can do. And they are under starter’s orders, and they are
off.
”

Royal Flush came out of his stall badly, pushed to one side by the horse to his right. He took a while before he gathered his stride. Rounding the bend, he was in sixth position but holding the ground well. De Jersey stood, surrounded by men and women like those his father had known, his infamy forgotten as they concentrated on the race. Smedley cheered and shouted until what little voice he had left became a croak. Most of them had bet on Royal Flush, and the cheers and yells for the stallion to come forward were deafening. The horses rounded the bend, then faced the hill climb, but it was starting to look as if Royal Flush would be left far behind if he didn’t make his move.

Smedley was almost in tears. He looked up at de Jersey, who stood as if frozen. He was willing his boy to move up, willing him with his hands clenched at his sides. “Come on. Move him up, Mickey. Come on, my boy, come on, my son,” he whispered.

Then the big stallion eased forward, whipped on by the jockey; he was now lying third. As he took second position, the crowd roared their approval.

De Jersey stood immobile. Not until his beloved Royal Flush moved up into first position did he begin to yell with everyone else. Royal Flush was neck and neck, and then, there he was, out alone, winning easily and with such force that the roar of the crowd was deafening. It had been worth it. Seeing him cross the finish line would surpass anything that was to come.

Smedley was weeping, leaning over the rails. “He did it. He did it,” he said, but when he turned to de Jersey, it was as if he had disappeared into thin air.

De Jersey couldn’t have pushed his way back through the crowds behind them. They were twenty deep and, being so tall, he would easily have been seen. Smedley turned back in confusion, and then his heart stopped. “Oh, my God, he’s gone over the fence!”

“And the winner of the 2002 Derby is . . . Royal Flush.”

As the Sheikh entered the winner’s enclosure to be honored with the most coveted award horse racing could offer, a solitary figure was seen climbing over the barrier at Gypsy Hill, walking with his hat raised high. He swaggered along the track and was cheered almost as loudly as the winner.

“We got him,” said Rodgers, red-faced and sweating as he spoke orders into the radio microphone to pick de Jersey up.

“No, we didn’t,” Sara said, holding on to her flowered hat. “He gave himself up.” She sounded strangely close to tears. She turned to look at Christina de Jersey, still between the two officers. She was standing close to the rails by the winning post.

Rodgers had made sure his wife was visible, certain de Jersey would try to see her. He now watched her as de Jersey walked closer and closer. He crossed to ask her the unnecessary question. “Is that man Edward de Jersey?” he asked.

She turned to face him, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. They were full of pain. “Yes, that is my husband,” she said.

They all turned back to the track to see the officers streaming from all sides toward de Jersey, who was still audaciously acknowledging the cheers.

De Jersey was arrested on the track, surrounded by plainclothes and uniformed officers. Once he had been cautioned, he was handcuffed and removed from the ground in a police van to be taken to Scotland Yard for questioning.

“Do you want to see him?” Rodgers asked Christina, but she shook her head.

“No. I want to go home.” She was led away, and he ordered the officers to shield her from the photographers. He felt such compassion for her, and admiration at the way she had behaved.

Her Majesty had also witnessed the arrest. She gave no indication of what she felt but seemed annoyed that her own horse had been placed fifth.

Edward de Jersey spent months in prison waiting for trial as bail was refused. He never named any of his associates and never spoke on his own behalf. He was not charged with Sylvia Hewitt’s murder as there was insufficient evidence. He was sentenced to twenty-five years.

EPILOGUE

ANTHONY DRISCOLL
is still at large. He lives with a Spanish woman named Rosa. She works in a local restaurant, and he is employed as a night watchman for a local pottery factory.

JAMES WILCOX
is also still at large. He is now married to Daniella and has a baby daughter. He continues to work for Daniella’s brothers, refurbishing holiday apartments.

CHRISTINA DE JERSEY
divorced her husband after he was sentenced. He refused to see her or his daughters, encouraging them to start a new life. Christina subsequently discovered that he had placed $3 million in an account in the North Fork Bank in East Hampton, to be given to his daughters when they reached the age of twenty-one.

RAYMOND MARSH
is still at large, now working for an IT consultancy company in New Zealand.

HARRY SMEDLEY
was paid 10,000 pounds for his exclusive story in the
News of the World
based on his childhood memories of Eddy Jersey. His book was entitled
My Friend Edward de Jersey.

ROYAL FLUSH
went on to a stunning career, winning at Royal Ascot and Goodwood. He was then shipped out to Dubai, where he won the great Dubai championship. Returning to England, he suffered abdominal pain, sweating, and fine muscle tremors, and acute grass disease was diagnosed. He died never having been put to stud. Bandit Queen’s colt was Royal Flush’s only progeny.

BANDIT QUEEN
’
S
colt was born safely in the United States. He was a healthy, magnificent foal and was later shipped to England to his new owners, Donald Fleming and Mickey Rowland. He was turned out to graze until he was ready to be trained. His photographs dominated the cell walls of the man who had bred him illegally, the man who, unlike most men, had seen his dream come true. That, in the end, had been the fulfillment he had always coveted.

CHIEF SUPERINTENDENT RODGERS
retired from the Metropolitan Police after watching Edward de Jersey sentenced. He had spent many hours interrogating de Jersey and was pleased to see him go down, yet he remained dissatisfied that two of the robbery team members remained at large. As they were about to lead away the handcuffed de Jersey, Rodgers asked if he could have two minutes alone with him. He knew that even if de Jersey admitted it, there was little he could do with the information, but he asked him anyway. Was he the Mr. Big behind the Great Train Robbery and the Gold Bullion Raid? De Jersey looked Rodgers straight in the eye. After a long pause he smiled and held up his handcuffed hands. “You’ll have to wait for my autobiography.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank the many people who helped research and authenticate much of the action in
Royal Heist.
Very special thanks go to John Gosden, Annette and Andy Dive, Emmanuel Coste, Peter Middleton, Clive Driver, Jessica Cobham, Ann Duggan, Dr. Ian Hill, Stephen Ross and Andrew Bennet-Smith, Matthew Tucker, and Steve Nicholls.

I would like to thank my steadfast team at La Plante Productions: my personal assistant, George Ryan, whose brains and beauty hold me together, and the boss of bosses, Liz Thorburn, who keeps us all in control with deft charm and wisdom. I also thank Lucy Hillard, who runs the research department at LPP and had the key job of coordinating the research contacts for me to meet. Thanks as well to the script editor Richard Dobbs.

As always, a thank-you to my wonderful literary agent, Gill Coleridge, and all at Rogers, Coleridge and White, and to my U.S. literary agent, Esther Newberg. And my thanks to Random House for their terrific support and constant encouragement, especially from Susanna Porter, her assistant, Evelyn O’Hara, and Benjamin Dreyer.

A special thanks to Alison Summers for anchoring my book as it crossed the Atlantic, and also to my film and television agent and good friend Peter Benedek at the United Talent Agency.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynda La Plante is best known for her television series
Prime Suspect,
and more recently for
Bella Mafia,
the miniseries based on her novel of the same name. Her scriptwriting has won an Emmy Award for the best drama serial, several BAFTA awards, and the Edgar Allan Poe Writers Award. She is the author of numerous successful thrillers, including
Cold Shoulder
,
Cold Blood
,
Cold Heart, Entwined,
and
Bella Mafia
.

Also by Lynda La Plante

Bella Mafia

Entwined

Cold Shoulder

Cold Blood

Cold Heart

Prime Suspect

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the

author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,

locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States by Random House, an imprint of The Random House

Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously