Jessica sat silently on the passenger seat of the Maserati while Richard drove on the north bound lane of A3212 Westminster transit. She kept her head down, while studying the front cover of the spiral note pad. Then, she lifted her head and raised her gaze to stare outside through the windshield. She felt her stomach becoming a bit upset.
I am one of those people that cannot read inside of a moving vehicle.
Puffs of cumulus clouds dotted the blue sky.
"Did you find anything?" Richard's demanding tone somewhat sounded serious and concerned.
Jessica instinctively glanced to the side mirrors, believing that they were being tailored. No suspicions. They were not being followed.
Opening to the first page, she skimmed through phrases that were hand written with a pen. The page was laminated with a thin plastic wrap, as if whoever did this was to protect the page from ripping.
She furrowed her eyebrows in concentration and turned the page. Richard started slowing down and Jessica peeked outside through the passenger window. They were exiting the A3212 and turning into Bridge Street.
"There is a British Broadcasting Corporation access I.D. and Password written here. There is also a little certificate of employment. Her name was Jessica. Here shows the date she started working. She was a senior reporter. I see a seal of the BBC World News at the bottom of the page, next to her signature." Jessica looked at Richard as they started crossing the Thames River. She looked past him and watched a large boat in the distance. The boat was full of people, as each year tourist takes the traditional London boat trip that has been lasting for over two thousand years. She looked at the horizon line where the River met the sky and saw a cargo ship. The Great Bell at the Big Ben chimed very loudly causing Jessica to peak at the dashboard clock. It registered that it was one o'clock in the afternoon.
Florence Nightingale Museum appeared on their right and Richard merged left towards York Road.
Jessica flipped to the next page and a single card from a deck of cards feel on top of her lap. She picked it up with trembling hands.
Why are my hands trembling so much?
Must be from the adrenaline rush...
She felt a sense of Deja-vu.
Nearly a year ago I was picking another type of card from a notebook my uncle left me-
"What is that?" Richard interrupted her thoughts while glancing at the card in her hands.
Jessica flashed him the card that had feel from the notepad. "This card was marking this page. It's the Queen of hearts."
Queen of hearts... Richard thought to himself. "Hum..."
Waterloo Subway station started appearing on their right.
"Does Queen of hearts mean anything to you? Or did it meant anything to your Mother?"
What does your Mother have to do with a BBC World News Reporter?
Queen of hearts... Richard kept thinking as he slowed behind a red Double Decker bus. Pedestrians shot glances at the exotic Maserati on the street.
"This is a reference to Princess Diana."
"Excuse me?" Jessica furrowed her brows in concentration. "What does Princess Diana have anything to do with this?"
"That card is a reference to the Princess of Wales. Princess Diana. In 1995, the Princess of Wales said that 'she would like to be the Queen of People's hearts."
Jessica looked at him suspiciously and narrowed her eyes. "She said just like that: 'I would like to be the Queen of People's hearts?'"
"Yes. And there is more! On the day of her death in 1997, the Prime Minister referred to her as 'The Queen of Hearts' and 'The People's Queen'. This even became a theme for mourners in Hyde Park here in London. Go back to the notebook, is there anything written in the pages?
Jessica wondered what the Prime Minister would tell the World about what kind of Queen she was...
"I see a couple of addresses written in alphabetical order." She lowered her head. "Wait a minute..."
"What did you find?" Richard furrowed his eyebrows while taking his eyes off the road and looking at the notepad on her lap.
Jessica raised the notebook and exchanged glances with Richard.
"I see your Mother's name linked to an address located here in London..."
What does this notebook and that address has to do with Richard's Mother?
Richard felt a glimpse of hope.
Maybe we could find more evidence to the reason why my Mother was assassinated...
"Where would that address leads us to?"
Jessica lowered her gaze and returned her attention to Richard's eyes.
"To the Prime Minister's residence."
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
The Bitter Truth
Macera*Completed* A terror plot at the Houses of Parliament, and clues found at Westminster Abbey, could shake the British Royal family line of succession. Black Operative Richard Maxwell is skilled in ways inconceivable. Destined to protect the woman he...
