The Tudor wealth described in chapter 15 existed. Henry VII amassed huge amounts of gold and silver that Henry VIII (through his closure of the abbeys) increased. The disappearance of all that wealth during the regency of the boy king, Edward VI, remains a mystery.
Jesus College, at Oxford, was founded during the time of Elizabeth I (chapter 16). Its great hall stands as depicted, including the queen’s portrait, which still hangs. The chapel and quad (chapter 18) are also faithfully described.
William and Robert Cecil (chapter 16) are historical characters. William’s close relationship with Elizabeth I, including his protection of her during the bloody reign of her sister, Mary, is well documented. William served Elizabeth as secretary of state until his death. His son Robert succeeded him. Both men played integral roles in Elizabeth’s long reign. Toward the end of his life, though, Robert’s popularity and effectiveness waned. The derogatory rhyme quoted in chapter 36, along with his nickname “the Fox,” are real. Robert Cecil’s journal, first mentioned in chapter 15, sprang from my imagination, but the vast majority of historical information contained within it is true (chapters 47 and 49). Robert Cecil personally supervised the interment of Elizabeth I and the subsequent construction of her tomb in Westminster (chapter 52). Burying Elizabeth with Mary was his idea, and he also composed the odd inscriptions that appear on the tomb’s exterior (chapter 36).
At the heart of this story is the all-too-real drama of Abdelbaset al-Megrahi (chapters 37 and 46), a former intelligence officer, convicted of 270 counts of murder for the 1988 bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland. Afflicted with cancer, al-Megrahi was sent back to Libya in 2009 and eventually died in 2012. Both dates have been adjusted to accommodate Malone’s fictional world. Much controversy swirled around that so-called humanitarian act, the English playing a pivotal role by not interceding with the Scottish government. The United States strongly opposed the action, and to this day no one really knows the actual motivations behind its occurrence. Operation King’s Deception is totally fictitious, but the idea that the United States would seek sensitive information to coerce an ally is not beyond the realm of possibility.
Hampton Court is spectacular, and all of the scenes (chapters 37, 38, and 39) that take place there are faithful to the site. The Haunted Gallery exists, as do the Tudor portraits described in chapter 38. The Cumberland Suite, the gardens, docks, kitchens, golf course, and the tunnels beneath (chapter 42) all are there. Only the door in the wine cellar, leading to the former sewers, was my invention.
Blackfriars Abbey is long gone, but the Underground station described in chapters 56 and 57 remains. At the time this story takes place (two years ago) the station was being rebuilt, but the new facility is now complete. To my knowledge, percussion explosives, as described in chapters 3, 53, and 62, do not exist. I created them, combining the physical characteristics of several different types of reactants.
Elizabeth I was a wonderfully complex person. She never married and openly shirked her duty to provide a royal heir—both of which raise interesting questions. She was thin, unbeautiful, lonely, with nearly constant energy—totally opposite all of her siblings. The idiosyncrasies noted in chapter 49 (and at other points throughout the novel) are taken from historical accounts. Elizabeth refused to allow doctors to examine her, commanded that no autopsy would be performed, always wore heavy face makeup and wigs, donned unflattering clothing that totally concealed her body, and allowed only a select few people close. Those included Kate Ashley, Thomas Parry, both Cecils, and Blanche Parry. If there was any conspiracy, these five individuals would have been at its heart.
The Mask of Youth (chapter 16) existed, so every drawing of Elizabeth must be called into question. Within the novel are five images. On the Part One page is a portrait created in 1546 when Elizabeth was 13 years old. This would have been about the time she supposedly died. This is a famous image, one of the few that exist showing the princess under the age of 25. No one knows, though, if it accurately depicts her. The Part Two page shows the Clopton Portrait from 1560. Elizabeth was 27 at the time, two years into her reign, and never looked less regal and confident. The features are noticeably nonfeminine. On the Part Three page is the Ermine Portrait, painted in 1585. This is an excellent example of the Mask of Youth. Elizabeth was 52 years old at its creation, but her face is that of a much younger woman. The same is true on the title page with the Rainbow Portrait, where Elizabeth was 70 years old but appears far younger. And, finally, on the Part Four page is the Darnley Portrait, painted from life in 1575. Interestingly, the crown and sceptre were placed on a side table, not held, suggesting that they were more props, than symbols of power. Once again, little about the face is feminine. The conclusions are inescapable. We simply have no idea what Elizabeth I looked like.