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think that's a proper suggestion, Mr. Gaskell," Diana replied. "Please lead the way."

"Please call me James, your Highness," he offered politely while probably thinking anything but Jim. No one called him Jim.' The formal James Gaskell was uncomfortable with the diminutive.

"We'll have the driver take your luggage to the cottage," Celia added as the group began walking, "and it should be there after the pool visit and our little tour."

The Gaskells had painstakingly planned precise welcome arrangements and a brief, but thorough, property tour for their royal guests. However, the unplanned diversion to Montpelier's pool was something of a distraction. And James Gaskell was an organized, punctual individual who earnestly worked at keeping things on schedule.

As the adults and the Scotland Yard detectives traced the steps of William and Harry to the Montpelier pool, Celia Gaskell smiled and nodded to a staffer who would guide the driver to the cottage. The simple nod was also a signal to disperse the staff.

The blue and white mosaic floor tile pattern gave Montpelier's 60x40 pool a very inviting appearance. The pool itself was rimmed by a wide concrete apron. From Diana's vantage point along the near long side of the pool, the stairs were in the corner directly in front of her.

The location where the group had stopped provided an excellent view. To the left of the pool area, a short breaker wall with a profusion of lush plantings rising perhaps a foot above them and running the full width of the swimming area separated the concrete apron from the ruins of the original sugar mill. The structure rose majestically some twenty feet behind it. Diana silently admired the often-photographed mill ruins.

To Diana's extreme right, slightly behind her and elevated higher than pool level, was the Inn's open air outside serving bar and lounge area which had a permanent cover in the event of rain. Beyond the concrete apron across from where she stood, a five foot high wall was covered by an expansive, several panel mural depicting island life from centuries past in the days when sugar was king' in much of the Caribbean.

"It's c-c-co-cold," Prince Harry hammed as he sat near the pool stairs. He had removed a shoe and sock and was feigning horror as he teasingly lowered his foot into the water.

"Is not!" William contradicted his sibling the way older brothers were often wont to. William knelt and agitated the water with one arm up to the elbow. Then, much to Diana's chagrin, in a youthful

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