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Dearest Gentle Reader,
Let us dispense with all preamble and arrive directly at the sentence that has most arrested this Author’s attention this morning: a dozen heavy bombers have quietly decamped from the great aerodrome at Fairford, because somebody, somewhere, apparently had sufficiently alarming plans for them. Lord Trump confirmed as much whilst departing for Nebraska – confirming a threat existed, declining to name it, and managing thereby to make the whole affair roughly twice as alarming as silence would have done. Persia, drones, sabotage inspired by Ukraine’s Operation Spiderweb: the whispers from Washington grow ever more vivid. One source described the threat as taken “extremely seriously”, which, Gentle Reader, is precisely the sort of phrase designed to communicate gravity whilst revealing absolutely nothing. A spokesperson for The Prime Minister’s Residence assured the nation that the great aerodrome at Fairford was perfectly safe – at which point, naturally, the bombers had already gone.
From the grand theatre of international security, we descend – though scarcely to calmer waters – to a story of whistleblowers, financiers, and a web of associations that would make even the most seasoned novelist’s quill tremble. A group of Grand Assembly members has called for an investigation into the treatment of whistleblowers by this Kingdom’s financial watchdog, following the death of Simon Andriesz, a former senior employee of the international brokerage concern who had raised concerns about business links between Lord Epstein and the American Colonies’ Commerce Secretary. Mr Andriesz had reportedly uncovered evidence suggesting an attempt to “buy a prince” – namely Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor – in exchange for a million-pound loan. His family confirmed he died by his own hand in Thailand on 23rd September. MPs describe the circumstances as raising “deeply troubling questions” – a verdict that, this Author suspects, will prove to be a considerable understatement as this particular tale continues to unfold.
This Author turns now to a matter that is not diverting in the least, but demands attention nonetheless. New figures from the universities of Lancaster and Oxford reveal that care proceedings involving babies have risen by 64% over two decades, with one in every 118 infants now caught in that machinery. Experts have told the Broadcasting Society that many of these children may never have entered the system had adequate support been offered to families in the first instance – and, since infants in care are far more likely to be adopted than older children, concerns are mounting that permanent separations from birth families have occurred unnecessarily. Over 90% of these adoptions proceeded without parents’ written consent. New guidance for Family Court judges is expected before the year’s end. This Author finds very little to say that wit would improve, and so simply records it here with the gravity it deserves.
The news also brings the passing of Lord Jeffrey Archer, bestselling author, former Tory MP, peer of the realm, convicted perjurer, and a man who sold over 300 million books – which is to say, a figure so thoroughly larger-than-life that it would be churlish to pretend surprise that even his death occurred between writing sessions. He was 86. His publisher reports he died “suddenly and peacefully at home,” and one imagines he would have preferred no other ending. Lady Badenoch called the news “devastating.” This Author notes that Lord Archer spent four years in gaol for perjury in 2001, retired from the Upper Chamber in 2024, and somehow managed throughout all of it to remain – one is compelled to say – magnificently unabashed. A remarkable exit for a remarkable, if complicated, life.
And finally, because this column would not be complete without proof that the criminal imagination is a peculiar and inventive thing: the insurance trade body has published its roll of the Kingdom’s most audacious fraudsters of last year, and pride of place goes to a gentleman who fabricated claims of stolen high-value Lego sets – and was found out when investigators discovered the very Lego, proudly displayed in his home. He has been sentenced to 28 months. His fellow honourees staged car crashes with strangers met through the digital salons and concocted elaborate false identities for travel insurance claims. Fraudulent claims totalled £1.34 billion in 2025, up 14% on the year prior – the average fraudulent claim now worth £14,300. As emerging technologies such as artificial intelligence become more widely available, the experts warn, fraudsters will grow bolder still. One trusts, at the very least, that none of them will claim their thinking engines were stolen.
I am, as ever, your most devoted observer – Lady Whistledown.