Diana

By James B. Revell

“Taking a leak, guv’nor?”

Swearing silently, I fastened my zip. A leprechaun of a man stood grinning behind me.

“I’m the gardener, Constable.” He put down a can and showed me his ID: William Maloney, Disabled Ex­-Servicemen’s Home.

“What’s in the can?”

“Rat poison. For the garden.”

The sealed can looked genuine.

“It’s going in the shed. I’ve got the afternoon off.”

—

I had drunk too much tea after setting up crowd barriers for the Royal visit. However, I did glimpse Diana on her uneventful tour.

I later discovered that the Home had no record of a William Maloney…