Anthony Eglin - The Blue Rose

‘Phew,’ Alex whistled, as his body adjusted to the comfortable warmth of the room. ‘They’ll be pairing off the animals soon, if this keeps up.’

Adell’s secretary entered the room and placed a tray of tea and biscuits on the table. ‘This’ll warm you up a bit,’ she said before leaving.

‘Please – help yourselves,’ said Adell. ‘Any more developments with Sapphire?’

‘Not a lot, really,’ Alex replied. ‘Except for Lawrence Kingston’s latest theory.’

‘What’s that?’

Alex then described Kingston’s recent trip to Bletchley and his visit with Jennifer Farrow.

‘He’s becoming more and more convinced now that Cooke and Farrow might have had something to do with the rose,’ said Kate.

Adell laughed. ‘It all sounds quite cloak and dagger – a missing journal, Bletchley Park, Enigma codes.’

‘Exactly what I said,’ said Alex.

‘This Kingston chap sounds awfully creative. I’d like to meet him one day. Meanwhile, let me update you on the auction.’ He picked up the phone and punched in a single digit. ‘Martha, would you bring in the Sheppards’ file, please. I forgot to ask you to pull it out earlier. Sorry.’

Adell reached into the side drawer of his desk and extracted a manila folder. ‘I want to show you this.’ Opening the folder he removed a brochure. ‘This is a colour proof of the brochure that we’ve put together for the auction sale of the rose.’ He handed it to Alex.

Alex held it up so that Kate could see it too. It was much larger than an average brochure, folding into three panels. The artwork was a pleasing combination of fine line drawings that resembled old engravings and computer-enhanced photography. The photo of the blue rose, spanning two of the inside panels, was beautifully executed. Not quite like the real thing, thought Kate, but most impressive.

‘Nicely done,’ said Alex.

‘Keep it. It’s for you. Look at it when you get back home and let me know if you have any suggestions or changes. It’s not going to go to press for a few days so there’s plenty of time for corrections.’

For the next five minutes Adell outlined the marketing plan and overall strategy for the first-ever auction of a rose.

Adell looked pleased with himself. ‘So there we are,’ he said, leaning back and folding his arms. ‘In another couple of weeks we’ll send out the announcement and Bob’s your uncle.’ Abruptly his smile vanished. ‘By the way, word is out already, by the looks of it.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Kate.

‘We’ve already received two pre-emptive bids from growers. One of them here, in the UK, the other from Holland. You can see what I meant when I said it would be nigh on impossible to keep such a discovery under wraps.’

Kate frowned. ‘But how could they know about it if the brochure isn’t even printed yet?’

‘We’ve been having conversations with Bonham’s, the auctioneers, since you were here last. Naturally, we requested that they treat it with the utmost confidentiality, but you can see how impossible that soon becomes. The faxes and e-mails that have already gone back and forth. We knew all along that it would be impossible to contain such–’

There was a barely audible knock on the door and Martha took one step into the room, holding the door open behind her. She was empty-handed.

‘Well, Martha?’ Adell said, gesturing with his hands. ‘Where’s the file?’

‘We don’t seem to be able to find it,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you don’t have it?’

‘No. The last time I saw it was a couple of days ago. I gave it back to Betsy. I’m almost certain she put it in your tray.’

Three pairs of eyes were now fastened on Martha, who shifted uncomfortably, one hand still on the doorknob. ‘Do you think it might be connected with the break-in?’ she asked.

Alex gave Adell a quizzical look. ‘Jesus! Somebody broke into your offices?’

‘Yes – two days ago. There was no evidence of a forced entry. Just a lot of stuff disturbed, as though somebody was looking for something. Whoever it was, he or she was thorough. They tried to enter the computers too. We’ve been taking inventory but so far we’ve found nothing missing.’

‘Up until now, that is,’ said Alex. ‘What did the police say?’

‘They were as perplexed as we were. All they could do was to ask us to report any further unusual circumstances.’

Kate was clearly alarmed. ‘If someone has stolen our file–’

‘Look, let’s not jump to any conclusions,’ Adell interrupted with a growing look of annoyance. ‘There’s a perfectly rational answer for it, I’m sure.’ He looked back to Martha, who was still standing awkwardly by the door. ‘Martha, why don’t you go and take another look? Ask Betsy and Christine to do a search, too.’

It was another five minutes before Martha returned. There was no sign of the file anywhere, she said.

‘I’m sure it’ll show up,’ Adell said. ‘The minute it does, I’ll let you know.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’ Alex asked.

Adell’s face darkened. ‘Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,’ he said, getting up from his chair.

After Adell had seen Alex and Kate out he went into the outer office, where Martha and the other two secretaries were busy undertaking their search for the Sheppards’ file.

‘I didn’t want to alarm the Sheppards,’ he announced, ‘but this is a serious matter. I don’t care if takes all day, or all week, drop everything you’re doing and find that damned file.’

It had stopped raining and was inky dark when Alex and Kate finally arrived back at The Parsonage. After a boisterous greeting from Asp, they went into the sitting room to check for phone messages, go through the day’s mail and read the local newspaper. As usual, Asp jumped up on Kate’s lap, wriggling himself into a comfortable position.

‘No phone messages,’ said Alex, picking up the Wiltshire Gazette and slumping on the couch.

‘I’m surprised Kingston hasn’t called,’ said Kate, scratching the top of Asp’s head.

‘If he does, darling, just for my sake don’t invite him down – not yet, anyway. Much as I admire him and appreciate everything he’s doing, I can only take him in small doses,’ he said, without taking his eyes off the newspaper.

‘More than likely he’ll invite himself. I wonder what he’ll have to say about the missing file?’

‘Hmm,’ Alex grunted, his nose buried in the paper.

She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t more upset about the file. On the train ride home they had talked about it and despite Alex’s attempts to persuade her that, odds were, it was simply misplaced, she was more convinced than ever that it had, indeed, been stolen.

‘I promise not to bring it up again, Alex,’ she said, ‘but that file most certainly contained an awful lot of information about us, not the least of which is our address. Anybody able to put two and two together will conclude that’s where the rose is located.’ She picked up Asp, put him on the floor and stood up. ‘Now, whoever has the file could come snooping around. God, they could steal the rose, or take cuttings.’

Starting towards the door, she looked over her shoulder – to see whether her words had made any impression at all. ‘Alex, you haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?’

Alex lowered the newspaper and peered at Kate over the top of his glasses. ‘Kate, give it a break, we don’t really know, yet, if the file was stolen,’ he said. ‘It’s probably sitting somewhere in his office, in full view. So, let’s not jump to conclusions. Wait until we hear from Adell.’

‘That’s fine, but I still think a burglary–’