Chapter 5 - A good feel for creeps

Sometimes you see someone and even though you don´t know her (or him of course), you like her. It´s the smile. Or the funny bracelet. Or the way she rolls her eyes at something, just when you were about to do the same.

Sometimes you see someone and though you don´t know her (or him), you dislike her. It´s the curve of the mouth. The annoying grin, the silly socks, the fact that she licks her lips after every second sentence.

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The Head of Security of the Genovian Queen never wondered whether he liked someone at first sight or not. His prime objective was to determine whether someone was a threat.

Joe had first seen Viscount Mabrey in 1987. Allowing only two categories, he had had to place the nobleman in the ´not a threat´ group. But privately he had added ´yet´.

It was the contemptuous way Mabrey looked at the Queen when he thought no one was observing him, that made Joe wary when he was near.

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The moment the doors of the London elevator had opened, Joe had been ready to attack or arrest Mabrey. One look from Her Majesty would have been enough.

But it seemed she had handled the Viscount masterly.

Rosemary Clooney?

If only she disliked that singer... But he didn´t know, did he? He briefly wondered why he was so eager to find out, but he spent most of his time simply thinking of ways to make her talk jazz.

She was his Queen, he was her employee, he couldn´t just ask her. She would say something like: ´Really Joseph, do you think that listening to that singer will do me harm?´

He could imagine how she would pronounce ´harm´.

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Picture the scene: a sunny Autumn day, the trees on the Castle´s grounds colouring yellow, red, brown, with touches of green still, the Queen wearing a black Givency outfit, with a grey shawl fashionably wrapped around her upper body, her white and grey pearl necklace still visible.

Her Majesty asked her Head of Security to walk next to her. She wasn´t very talkative. After having walked in silence from the Castle to the green houses, the Queen looked to her right, were a bird had hopped into her field of vision. Joseph was shaking his head.

She took the bait.

´What is it Joseph?´

´Nothing ma´am. It´s just that I have a song in my head and - ´

´You can´t forget it,´ the Queen smiled.

´No, I can´t. The words and the melody keep coming back.´

´If you try another song, this one might go. Or is it too good?´

´It´s Jack the Knife,´ Joe revealed.

´Ah!´ the Queen responded.

Joe got inspired. ´This morning it was Something´s gotta give.´

´In which version?´

Joe had no idea. Had Rosemary ever sung Something´s gotta give?

´Ella Fitzgerald?´ the Queen guessed.

Joe answered with a question of his own.

´Would you recommend that version?´

´Absolutely, she is one of my favourite jazz performers.´

Joe searched his brain for a singer´s name.

´Do you like Billie Holiday ma´am?´

The Queen shook her head. ´She somehow reminds me of Tina Turner.´

Joe laughed.

´I like Sarah Vaughan,´ he offered.

´And rightly so.´

Silence. They were walking towards the lake.

´Do you like... what´s her name... She´s got a son who played in Twin Peaks...´

The Queen shrugged.

´And a nephew of hers plays in this new American TV series. ER.´

´ER?´

´It´s about a hospital.´

´I see,´ the Queen said. ´Ghastly wounds, people screaming in agony and doctors who spend more time having affairs than curing patients? No, that is not my cup of tea.´

Joe smiled warmly.

´But you mentioned an actor?´

´Yes. His name is.... George. George something. He´s got the same family name as the singer who´s name slipped my mind.´

For ten metres Joe pretended not to recall the name. Then: ´Clooney! George Clooney,´ he said triumphantly.

´Old age hasn´t got you in its claws yet Joseph,´ the Queen smiled. ´Is he Rosemary Clooney´s nephew?´

´Rosemary! Yes, that´s her name.´

´Some people feel she is not a jazz singer, but I appreciate her recordings.´

Than why did you recommend her to him? Joe thought.

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The whole thing bothered Joe, but unlike in his dreams, the Queen had not invited the huge nobleman over to listen to jazz.

And when the Viscount had entered the conversation between Her Majesty and some thespians, after the opening night of a play, she had continued to been charming, and not to please him.

He should have realised that instantly.

Capras and Valais had informed him about a brief encounter between the Queen and the Viscount in a gallery. It must have been unexpected. According to Valais, their meeting had not been hostile. They had talked about paper-weights. A very neutral subject. Joe hadn´t felt the need to make the Queen talk glass.

He probably wouldn´t have had an opportunity to do so anyhow, for added to Her Majesty´s (and his own) usual work were the preparations for the state visit of the President of Brazil (who was on a European tour).

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This morning the Queen had welcomed the President at the airport en right now the two Heads of State were attending a lunch offered by the Chairman of Parliament.

The Queen sat down. The gallant Brazilian guest personally held her chair. Dressed in a beautifully cut dress with a tight skirt, the Queen elegantly and innocently moved her hands from her... derrière down her upper legs, to prevent the fabric from crumpling. The President smiled.

Joe didn´t notice it, for he was secretly observing Viscount Mabrey, who was placed at the main table. The nobleman looked at the Queen and Joe expected to see a flash of contempt in the Viscount´s eyes.

It wasn´t there.

The man probably had an off day.

He´d better!