Don't mess with Prince Philip: he's a made guy

Liz didn't normally give warnings. If someone was gonna get whacked, it just kinda happened

What a scene – the Queen "fixed me with her eye," and said, "Be careful Paul... there are powers at work about which we have no knowledge." Instead of selling his story to the Daily Mirror, that butler should have done it as a remake of Goodfellas by Martin Scorsese, with the butler as narrator: "This was unusual as Liz didn't normally give warnings. If someone was gonna get whacked, it just kinda happened. But Diana had been getting crazy, kinda out of control, and you weren't supposed to mess with Philip, he was a made guy."

The butler says he never understood what the Queen meant, which sounds a little strange. He'd been warned, by a monarch with fixed eyes, that he was in danger from sinister powers, but he didn't ask who she was talking about. I suppose it's a breach of protocol to ask the Queen to explain herself, so it's better to be whisked away in the night and buried in a quarry than undermine the sovereign by asking what she means. Maybe the Queen does this on purpose all the time for a laugh. She'll whisper to an equerry, "Beware the new moon for the eagle has landed," and chuckle away for years as the poor sod becomes a paranoid gibbering wreck.

Or did she mean the unknown powers were at work against her. I know MI5 keep tabs on all manner of campaigners, believing them to be dangerous subversives, but surely even they draw the line at the Queen. Are they sat in a van outside Buckingham Palace, bugging her calls and thinking, "Any mention of a CND march and we'll have her."

Predictably, this tale has unleashed the army of professional grovellers who can't wait to fawn and slobber about how the Queen has behaved perfectly. One, labelled "the Queen's biographer", announced that the butler's "powers at work" quote can't be trusted because "no one can clearly remember a conversation from five years ago." Generally that's true – a conversation in 1997 with an office colleague about their favourite type of biscuit would be a little hazy by 2002. But being told by the Queen to be careful of unknown forces might just stick in the memory – you sycophantic berk.

The undisputed champion of this sport is always Norman St John Stevas, who spent the weekend dribbling that the Queen's behaviour was beyond reproach, etc etc. If they'd let him carry on he'd have said "In order that justice could properly be done the Queen has without hesitation risked her own life. She contacted a law court, despite the knowledge that these places are sometimes visited by criminals. Her sense of duty was as unwavering as ever."

Most of the puzzling over why she made her intervention when she did has fallen into the trap of assuming she's normal, as if she was sat in the living room watching the news like anyone else, until she suddenly said, "Hang on Philip, don't we know that bloke? Oh that's the butler who's accused of nicking stuff. I seem to remember having him over and catching him out with the old 'unknown powers at work' gag."

But the Royal Family isn't a family. It's an industry of advisers and consultants on PR, finance, and everything else. The decision not to intervene, and the decision to make the call, were made by this corporate body according to what suited their interests. And hidden in the butler's memoirs are the sort of interests they really stand for. Recalling his meeting with the Queen, he says he stood for the entire three hours because "One does not sit when in the presence of Her Majesty at a private audience." Maybe the royals run a sweepstake to see how long someone can keep going before they keel over. Then Charles and Andrew look through the keyhole, sniggering, "Keep it up Mum, 10 more minutes and he'll wet himself."

And the reason the butler didn't mention his meeting until the Queen came through for him was that "In the royal household it is unthinkable to recount any conversation with Her Majesty." Which must make life in the palace a palaver. "What time will Her Majesty be home?"– "She did tell me, but I'm ethically disavowed from recounting her answer." It must be like living in a panel game. Someone says they had a nice time with the King of Morocco, then a gong goes and everyone yells "Ha! You recounted – you're out".

The butler's tale illustrates the purpose of the Royal Family, to institute a culture of deferential subservience. In any case, how does it prove he's innocent just because he had this conversation with the Queen about "looking after" Diana's stuff? Surely the police should be spending another million and a half pounds checking out whether the Queen was in on it as well. That would be the most plausible explanation for why it took three hours – she was saying, "One needs a driver one can trust and a fence to offload the gear, this is a jolly big heist, OK."

You see, Liz was still kinda pissed at Diana for busting her balls over Charlie.