Time is a patient killer.

Sometimes, all it takes to put the thought of bloody murder into somebody’s head is a few hundred years wait and a visit to a famous old building, located on the north bank of a famous old river.

Then all you need are sharp knives, a strong desire to end lives, and the ability to leave no trace behind.

But before all that, you needed a King.

Preferably one who’s thirty-four years old. Over 6ft tall. And sitting on the throne of England a year shy of the Great Plague of London.

It was August 1, 1664.

It was a Friday. And the weather in London fell somewhere in between warm and muggy, and damp and dreary.

Charlie Stuart, or to give him his proper title, King Charles II of England, Scotland, and Ireland, had recently taken delivery of a new set of Royal Regalia. The old set had, over time, been lost, used as collateral, pawned, and generally buggered about with, before the most important man in the realm took his seat on the most important chair in the land.

Even way back then, the new regalia set him back a whopping £13,000. Around £1m in today’s money. And that was apart from the banqueting plate, golden altar, and baptism font. He had to fork out a further £18,000 for them.

Charles was well pleased with all his new gear. But he was no mug. So, he stashed all his pretty valuables where nobody else could get within touching distance.

The most fortified place in the land.

The Tower of London.

And there they stayed. For 330 years.

Waiting for the right opportunity to present itself.

Waiting for the right mind to pick up the thread of an idea and run with it.

On March 24, 1994, the Royal Regalia, fondly and officially known by all as The Crown Jewels, was moved into the newly created Jewel House on the ground floor of the Tower.