💔 DIANA’S LOST FAX — THE MESSAGE THAT VANISHED BEFORE HER DEATH
Weeks before Paris, a fax allegedly sent to Operation Paget investigators hinted at “a living child kept hidden overseas.” The sender claimed Diana planned to reveal everything after her France trip.
The fax was logged, then disappeared from archives.
Now Simon Dorante-Day believes he knows why.
💔 DIANA’S LOST FAX — THE MESSAGE THAT VANISHED BEFORE HER DEATH
In the labyrinth of conspiracy theories surrounding Princess Diana’s tragic death in 1997, few threads weave as intricately with royal secrets as the tale of a mysterious fax sent to Operation Paget investigators. Weeks before her fatal car crash in Paris, an anonymous sender allegedly alerted authorities to “a living child kept hidden overseas,” claiming Diana intended to expose the truth upon her return from France. Logged into records but later vanishing from archives, this document has become a phantom in the annals of royal intrigue. Now, Simon Dorante-Day, the Queensland man who insists he is the illegitimate son of King Charles III and Queen Camilla, believes the fax’s disappearance points directly to a cover-up aimed at silencing his existence—and protecting the monarchy’s facade.
Operation Paget, launched by the Metropolitan Police in 2004 at the behest of the royal coroner, was a exhaustive probe into conspiracy allegations following Diana’s death alongside Dodi Fayed. Spearheaded by former Commissioner Lord Stevens, the inquiry examined claims of foul play orchestrated by the royal family, MI6, or other shadowy forces, including fears that Diana’s potential marriage to a Muslim would scandalize the establishment. Over three years and millions in costs, investigators interviewed hundreds, including a second round of questioning for Charles, and ultimately debunked theories of murder, attributing the crash to the driver’s intoxication and paparazzi pursuit. Yet, amid this scrutiny, Dorante-Day’s intervention via a urgent fax submission added a layer of personal drama, one he claims triggered ripples that may explain the “lost” message.
Dorante-Day, born Simon Charles in 1966 in Gosport, UK, alleges his adoption was orchestrated to conceal his royal parentage from a teenage affair between Charles (then 17) and Camilla (18). Raised by adoptive parents whose forebears served in royal households, he claims his grandmother revealed the secret on her deathbed, supported by sealed documents and timelines that he says defy coincidence—Camilla’s nine-month social vanishing act and Charles’s Australian sojourn aligning with his conception and birth. Now 59, the father of nine has pursued DNA tests and legal challenges, amassing followers on social media with photo comparisons to royals, including his children’s resemblances to William, Harry, and even young Charlotte. But it’s his 2004 contact with Paget that ties him to Diana’s shadow.
From his home in Lismore, New South Wales, Dorante-Day penned a letter to the Met Police shortly after Paget’s inception, inquiring if his purported lineage had “ramifications” for Diana’s case. Investigators, intrigued, demanded an immediate statement—faxed back at 2 a.m. local time. Dorante-Day asserts this prompted Charles’s re-interview and leaked details about him during the 2005 inquiry submissions, though the full report makes no mention of hidden children or his claims. He speculates the original tip-off fax, hinting at an “overseas” child (himself in Australia), was suppressed to bury the story, especially if Diana had uncovered it amid her marital unraveling.
Dorante-Day theorizes Diana pieced together rumors of a “secret child” during her 1995-1997 turmoil, confiding in a friend who then fell silent—perhaps out of fear. “Diana was at a point where she was finding out how she was wronged and was going to go public,” he told media, linking her Paris trip as the prelude to revelation. The fax’s alleged content—that she planned to disclose everything post-France—mirrors his narrative, suggesting the crash preempted exposure. No evidence in Paget’s 2006 report corroborates pregnancy rumors (forensic analysis confirmed Diana wasn’t expecting) or hidden heirs, but Dorante-Day views the document’s archival vanishing as deliberate erasure, fueling his quest for a four-way paternity test.
Skeptics dismiss this as fantasy. The Paget report, publicly released despite internal intentions, found no conspiracy foundation, with chapters dismantling assassination plots. Dorante-Day’s timeline clashes with history—Charles and Camilla’s first meeting is documented as 1970, post his birth—and alleged biological siblings via his claimed birth mother, Sandra Pinder, have publicly refuted him on platforms like Facebook, calling it a “scam.” Online forums, from Reddit to X, label him a grifter, debunking royal service claims for his grandparents and noting altered photos or eye color tales as fabrications. Buckingham Palace has ignored DNA pleas, and no official acknowledgment exists.
Yet, in an era of resurgent royal scrutiny—Charles’s health woes, family rifts with Harry, and republican murmurs in Australia—Dorante-Day’s saga resonates. Supporters on X amplify theories of abducted heirs or Diana’s “true” legacy, blending his claims with wilder ones like a Charles-Diana daughter named Sarah. He frames the fax’s loss as part of a 58-year deception, demanding justice not for fame but identity, echoing Diana’s own battles against institutional opacity.
The vanished fax remains elusive—no direct trace in public records—but Dorante-Day’s belief in its suppression underscores enduring questions: Did Diana harbor secrets that could shatter the Windsors? In Queensland’s quiet, the “lost” message symbolizes buried truths, where loyalty clashes with legacy. As Charles reigns amid modern challenges, this phantom communication haunts, a reminder that some royal gates conceal more than pomp—they guard ghosts that refuse to stay silent.
