Rosie DiManno - The Morton Report

Exclusive: Queen Elizabeth and the Serial Sex Killer

2011-05-24T11:41:56Z

From: Elizabeth R, Queen.
To: Russell Williams, serial sex killer.
Thanks for the ride.

As mementos, the Canadian airforce colonel would come to prefer brassieres, panties and lingerie - the fetish trove of intimate apparel that he burgled from scores of residences. But a signed, framed photograph of the sovereign was quite nice.

He hung the picture on the wall of his home office.

In all likelihood, Williams is probably the only rapist-murderer to have ever received a prezzie from Her Majesty.

No doubt, she'd like it back.

It was Russell who flew the CC-150 Polaris that delivered the Queen and Prince Philip from London to Canada in 2005. It was Russell who piloted the royal passengers across the country in a week-long tour. And it was Russell who accepted the gift that the Queen presented at the tour's conclusion as an expression of her gratitude for service rendered.

No word on whether the picture now decorates the tiny prison cell where Russell will spend at least the next 25 years, and probably the rest of his miserable life.

The disgraced and staggeringly felonious former colonel, 46, pleaded guilty last fall to 88 charges: two counts of first-degree murder, two sexual assaults and 82 thefts -- the pilfering of at least 1,400 female undergarments, many of which he'd used for the purpose of masturbation.

As his own endlessly fascinating camera subject, the narcissist Russell took photographs of himself wearing the items, usually in the very bedrooms that he'd invaded. Upwards of 3,000 pix would be retrieved from Russell's vast digital collection, snaps of himself and his trophies.

The wing commander's grotesqueries are detailed in a recently published book, A New Kind of Monster: The Secret Life and Chilling Crimes of Colonel Russell Williams, by Tim Appleby.

Like most sexual deviants, Russell led a double life - head of Canada's busiest airforce base by day and skulking predator by night. One of the women he brutalized and killed was a corporal under his command.

But the length to which Russell compartmentalized his existence is astonishing. Though he preyed on neighbours, slipping into homes clustered around the two houses he owned - a cottage near Trenton, Ont., and the suburban Ottawa abode he shared with his wife - Russell never drew attention as a suspect. It was only the happenstance of being stopped at a police rolling roadblock that brought him into the investigation's crosshairs, the tires on his vehicle matching tread marks obtained from the vicinity of a murder scene.

Put under surveillance and Summoned for a chat with police the next day, Russell 'fessed up under skillful interrogation, blabbing all over the course of an 11-hour interview.

He'd been a rapidly rise star in the military, at one point taking charge of Camp Mirage in the United Arab Emirates, the hush-hush compound that functioned as a transit for Afghanistan-bound Canadian and coalition troops. Russell had personally piloted aircraft delivering troops between Afghanistan and Canada.

Also on his resume: flying VIPs around the country, from prime ministers to royalty. Which brought him face-to-face with the Queen, a most precious cargo, on Flight Royal One.

What's become of Her Majesty's personal present to Russell is unknown.

Maybe it's been re-gifted.

Prince Harry: Valiant Rebel and Totally Hot Dude

2011-04-29T02:30:00Z

LONDON - Since Prince Harry gave his mother's sapphire engagement ring to Prince William for the purpose of slipping on Kate's finger, he's presumably owed a bit of bling in return.

Not that Hooray Harry appears in any immediate need of affiancing jewelry, seemingly loathe as he is to pop the question in Chelsy Davy's direction - or any other belle with wedding bells on the brain.

With the heir taken, the spare is now World's Most Eligible Bachelor. Indeed, Harry was awarded that soubriquet by a British magazine when he turned 18. Nearly a decade on, the handle fits to a T, as in Totally Hot Dude, the real stud muffin in this brace of princes and a delightful rogue to boot.

Oh, he's had his bad press over the years: HARRY'S SHAME! HARRY OUT OF CONTROL! HERR HARRY and HITLER YOUTH!

Those last couple resulted from the prince wearing a Second World War Nazi uniform, with swastika on the sleeve, to a costume party in 2005. It apparently never crossed his booze-pickled mind that such a get-up was a) not funny; b) profoundly offensive; and c) tabloid catnip.

But that's Harry for you, love him or lambaste him, party animal and dashing rake, more Spencerian than Windsor in character, right down to the russet hair and freckles. "My little Spencer'' Diana called him, fondly. And: "Harry's the naughty one, just like me.''

Ought naught go out pubbing quite so much, perhaps, and emerge from night clubs falling down drunk. But a boy will sow his wild oats and Harry has been very much the wild child among his generation of royals. Yet he's also the first member of the House of Windsor to do front-line combat duty - at his insistence - since Prince Andrew piloted a helicopter in the Falklands War.

That's the core duality of Harry: The most valiant of royal spawn, risking his life on distant battlefields, and the most rebellious.

All his life, Prince Harry has played the second lead to William. That's the role he'll fill in Friday's royal nuptials too as his brother's best man. And he's always been Will's bestest man, the only person on this planet to share a sibling's particular pain as mother-less boys.

Always close, if separated by different destinies, the brothers have become even tighter as adults. Harry has said of William: "It's amazing how close we've become. We have even resorted to hugging each other.''

Now he's got the sister he says he's always wanted. And for the moment, they will continue a domestic menage-a-trois, at least when all in London at the same time, with Clarence House their shared residential address.

As befits a party connoisseur, Harry has arranged much of the wedding evening festivities, with three state rooms at Buckingham Palace converted into a nightclub. He's teed up a DJ to spin tunes, compiled a playlist featuring some of William's favorite artists and told caterers to prepare a "survivors breakfast'' of bacon sandwiches for those guests still vertical the following morning.

As best man, Harry's other formal duty on W-Day is to deliver the speech at the wedding breakfast buffet, hosted by granny. What will he dare say? Courtiers are nervous but Harry's was recently quoted as promising to be "selective'' about groom disclosures, for fear of upsetting the Queen. At the same time, he teased there will be enough in there to make William squirm and "lose a bit of hair.''

Like reigning, not a problem that Harry needs worry about.

Oprah a No-show at Bucklebury, But Locals Still Revel In Wedding Fever

2011-04-26T12:03:51Z

BUCKLEBURY -- The heck with Kate. They've come for Oprah.

A princess-to-be is all fine and well but locals descended Easter Monday on The Old Boot Inn - favored drinking hole hereabouts for Kate Middleton and the Prince of Wales - hoping for a gander at the Queen of Television.

Word had quickly spread that The Big O was going to grace this charming Berkshire village, home of the Middleton clan, with her presence.

Alas, Oprah Winfrey merely sent a crew and one of her on-air adjutants to do the chatting.

"Where's Oprah?'' asks John Haley, proprietor of the pub, clearly crestfallen.

"She's too busy today so she sent me,'' trills Carson Kressley, the swishy bronze-buffed fashion expert who co-hosts a show on the Oprah Winfrey Network.

Kressley rubs his hand against the beer taps on the beer. "Oh, these are so cute!''

He orders "whatever Kate usually has'' and, when Haley explains William's squeeze doesn't have "a usual,'' asks for a Pimms instead, eschewing the "Wedding Ale'' special that's produced at a brewery two kilometres away.

Haley compliments Kressley on his rather mummifying TV make-up. "I think I'm falling in love with you,'' the landlord observes drily.

Kressley: "Ooh, I never thought I'd be picked up in a pub!''

Outside, an NBC crew waits its turn at the publican.

Haley is among the lucky few to have received an invitation to the spectacle nuptials. He's bought a present but won't reveal what it is. What to get a prince and his princess-in-waiting? A toaster? A set of silver candlesticks? A gift card for Tesco?

"Well, I can give them a free dinner for four,'' Haley teases. "Maybe they can bring the Queen with them.''

Carole and Michael Middleton, self-made millionaires as operators of mail-order company Party Pieces, have invited 254 relatives and friends to the wedding, their share of the 1,900 who will fill Westminster Abbey on Friday. Their list includes the postman, the butcher, and the chap who owns the Bucklebury convenience store where Kate buys sweets. Not quite the King of Tonga but not as controversial as Zimbabwe's ambassador to the UK either.

A veritable rogue's gallery of despotic leaders or their repressive regime reps are among those who will lower their tushes into the seats at Westminster Abbey on Friday. Prince Charles has summoned a slate of billionaires too, proving that it is indeed possible to social climb up if one's wallet is fat enough. Pity there was no space for some of Diana's closest friends, at least not those who were apparently nasty about Camilla post-marriage bust-up. That might explain the absence of Lady Annabel Goldsmith and Rosa Monckton, both significant adults in the life of the young William but apparently now erased from royal memory.

Weddings are payback time.

At least the Middletons have been democratic about recognizing neighbours from the bucolic - and affluent - village.

"Never in my wildest imagination did I dream I would be attending a royal wedding,'' marvels Hash Shingadia, the convenience shop owner, as he shows off his gold-embossed invitation. "That says a lot about the family, that they would invite an ordinary person like me.''

Shingadia will be attending - in morning coat, which he's rented - with his wife, though 11-year-old daughter Maya has begged to go along. "I can sit on your lap!''

Shingadia burbles with enthusiasm for the 29-year-old princess-pending. "She's been so cool and collected, always smiling. Most important, she'll make William a good wife and, some day, a fine queen.''

Martin Fidler, the butcher, recalls discovering a big white envelope in the mail.

"My wife was on the phone when it arrived. I yelled at her, 'Get off the phone and come have a look at this!'''

Wife Sue has, naturally, bought a new frock and a fascinator for the occasion, "even though I'm not really a hat person.''

The couple has known Kate since she was a little girl.

Says Sue, "She's scrumptious, a stunner inside and out.''

And, unlike Sarah - ex Merry Wife of Windsor - likely never to show up on Oprah's couch.

Diana's Double Betrayal: First Charles, Then William

2011-04-25T03:05:00Z

The Lord's Prayer says: Forgive us our trespasses. But I can't quite forgive "him" for forgiving "her." That would be Prince William and Camilla -- Duchess of Cornwall, fornicatrix, serpent at the breast of Diana, step-mummy.

She was the C-word in the doomed marriage of William's parents and no one knew this better that Diana's oldest son. As a child he was William the Confessor to a distraught and tormented woman; consoling youngster who passed tissues to Diana under the door as she sobbed her heart out in the loo.

Let us recall the last time Camilla took a pew at a wedding not her own for an heir to the throne. There she sat in St. Paul's Cathedral, Mrs. Parker Bowles, having vetted Diana as sacrificial lamb/bride for the Prince of Wales, the man who loved "her" as she loved him, who would return to her bed and other beds made available for the trysting infidels in the homes of complicit friends.

Modern marriages are commonly not for-ever-after. The issue of these unions must needs find a way to accommodate divorce and re-marriages and blended families. It's understandable that the teenage William, having lost one parent to an untimely death, should have clung fiercely to the only other he had left and made peace with adulterer Charles, as, indeed, Diana had been an adulteress as well.

But did William have to absolve Camilla so absolutely?

It may be unfashionable to criticize anything about St. Wills, this charming young man who appears to have survived trauma and tragedy relatively unscathed. The weight of dynasty rests on his shoulders and a widely approving public feels protective.

Yet there's something of Willy the Wimp in how quickly this Windsorite reconciled himself to Camilla in the picture, on Daddy's arm, and ultimately astride the thone he'll some day occupy. He smiled and giggled and looked on fondly when Charles and Camilla wed, a scene suspiciously tapered to promote the couple's rehabilitation. And surely William must have signed off on those carefully crafted photo ops of Camilla and Kate lunching last month.

How he can abide even being in the same room with her, I cannot fathom.

William gave Kate his mother's engagement ring. But he gave Camilla a more valuable prize: His blessing. Mummy Dearest, forgive him.