“Friday? You mean the Beekman Hotel? You’ll be there for the big tasting and announcement?”
“Absolutely. Ric’s counting on me. I’ll be there to answer any questions the journalists may have about his hybrid’s viability.”
“You’re his seal of approval then? Like
Ellie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Something like that.”
“He told me that you’re helping him apply for a plant patent.”
“A plant patent? No.”
“No?”
I waited for Ellie to explain, but her attention had strayed to a small, middle-aged Asian man who’d wandered into the coffee plant room. He had short dark hair threaded with gray, a pale complexion, and slightly almond-shaped eyes. He wore loose silver-blue track pants and sneakers; and although it was a warm day, even warmer in the greenhouse, he’d kept his blue jacket on and zipped up to his chin.
I’d already removed mine.
“Excuse me, sir,” Ellie called politely, “but you shouldn’t be in here.”
The Asian man didn’t hear her, didn’t understand, or was simply ignoring her. He continued around the room, looking at each of the plants.
“Is there a problem?” I whispered.
“The exhibit’s not quite finished,” she whispered in reply. “So it’s not yet open to the public. I’m surprised this gentleman didn’t see the sign.”
I raised an eyebrow. There was a single entrance to this room of the glasshouse, and the standing sign in front of that displayed a big red circle with a slash through it and the words: STOP! DO NOT ENTER. STAFF ONLY.
“I’m sure he saw it,” I whispered to Ellie. “I’m also betting he ignored it. Big red stop signs are pretty universal. Maybe you should escort him out.”
Ellie frowned. “Better not. I’ve seen him around the Garden recently. He’s probably a new member—they pay annual dues to enjoy special privileges. It won’t hurt him to take a quick look, as long as I stay to make sure he doesn’t touch anything.”
“Oh, okay...” I said.
We quietly watched the man after that. He carefully ignored eye contact with us as he worked his way around the room, studying the different varieties of coffee trees and the explanatory plaques beside each one.
“You were saying?” Ellie prompted, turning back to face me.
“Uh... yes,” I said quietly. “I was wondering why Ric would mislead me. He told me that you were helping him file for a plant patent, but you said you weren’t.”
“No. Not a patent.”
I shook my head, more distressed than ever. “I don’t understand why Ric would lie to me.”
“He didn’t lie. He was simply using an incorrect term.”
“I don’t understand.”
“His
“Are you joking?”
“Absolutely not. The Plant Patent Act of 1930 covers asexually reproduced plants. In other words, plants that replicate through means other than germinating seeds. Like vines, for example. Since Ric’s hybrid reproduces through seeds, I’m helping him file for a plant variety protection certificate. It’s an intellectual property protection, not a patent.”
“But will it protect Ric’s rights to the plant?”
“Yes, of course! The certificate will give him up to twenty years of exclusive control over his plant. If anyone attempts to breed and sell Ric’s hybrid without licensing it from him, he has a right to file charges and sue them. It even prevents others from using it to produce a hybrid or different variety.”
“Just in the United States?”
“Not just. He’ll be protected all over the world.”
Before I had to ask, she explained the Plant Variety Protection Act was really just the United States’s effort to comply with the Union pour la Protection des Obtentions Végétales, an international treaty on plant breeders’ rights. Every major country had signed on, including Brazil.
“So why didn’t Ric file himself?” I asked. “Why didn’t he work with the Brazilian authorities to protect his new plant?”
My question seemed to have rendered Ellie speechless. She stared at me, seemingly at a loss, and I couldn’t tell if it was just the warmth of the greenhouse or something else, but a pronounced blush was spreading over her fair face.
“Ellie?” I whispered. “There’s something you’re not telling me... what is it?”
When she continued to hesitate, I took an educated guess—given that Ric hadn’t even gotten the terminology right on the paperwork. “Ellie, are
“Excuse me, Ms. Lassiter?”
I turned to find a young man staring at us. I hadn’t heard his footsteps, and I wondered how long he’d been standing there.
“What is it?” Ellie asked him.
“Your
The young man wasn’t much taller than my own five-two. He looked to be in his early twenties, had curly brown hair and a pale face with a bit of scruff on his chin and upper lip that I assumed were the beginnings of a goatee. I also assumed he was part of the staff since he was wearing the same spiffy green forest ranger ensemble that Ellie was sporting.
“Good,” Ellie told him. “That’s the last of them. Bring it in here, and I’ll inspect it after lunch.”
“You don’t want to see it now?” the young man asked, his close-set brown eyes squinting slightly with disapproval.
“No, Norbert. I have a guest, as you see. We’re going to have a bite to eat in the cafe.”
“Oh, of course, Ms. Lassiter. If anyone deserves a break, you do. You work so hard.” Now he was gushing. “Is there anything else I can do for you? Maybe your guest would like a complimentary Botanic Garden tote bag? How about it, Ms.... ?”
The question was pointedly leading. Norbert wanted to know my name. Before I could answer, I felt Ellie’s hand on my back. She was gently pushing me toward the exit.
“Lovely thought,” she called to Norbert. “Just drop it by our table later, okay?”
“Of course, Ms. Lassiter.” He caught up to us, staying on our heels.
“And do me one last favor,” she said, over her shoulder.
“Anything.”
She lowered her voice. “There’s a gentleman who wandered into my exhibit, and...”
As her voice trailed off, she turned to look for the middle-aged Asian man. I turned too, but I could see the room was empty of human life. The man was gone.
“That’s funny,” I said, pointing. “Wasn’t he just over there?”
Ellie looked puzzled. “I guess he slipped out. Forget it then, Norbert, just make sure you lock the door after you bring in my
“No problem. No problem at all. And I’m so sorry to have interrupted you.”
“It’s all right, Norbert.”
Twelve
“Norbert’s your assistant, I take it?”
