The Blue Rose

‘I doubt it very much, Nell.’

‘You get on your way, then, dear.’

‘Okay – sorry about the tea. I’ll call you the minute I get home.’

She waved to Nell one last time from the Trooper. Standing at the door, waving back, Nell looked so tiny and vulnerable. Kate bit her lip lightly and drove off up the lane.

About fifty feet from Nell’s house the lane curved before continuing to meet the road. As she was straightening up coming out of the bend and picking up speed, she almost ran into a black Jeep parked in the middle of the lane. It was positioned to make passing impossible. Kate slammed on the brakes. The Trooper skidded in a straight line on the loose gravel and wet leaves and came to a stop not more than six feet from the Jeep’s rear bumper.

She leaned on her horn a number of times, to no avail.

‘This I don’t need,’ she muttered. The Jeep appeared to be unoccupied. It must have broken down or run out of petrol.

The only sounds came from the noisy tappets of the idling Trooper and the gentle rustling of leaves on the trees in the surrounding woods. Her impatience was supplanted by irritation. She considered pushing it off the road but dismissed that idea, knowing she could easily damage either or both vehicles.

It looked as if she would have to back up to Nell’s and call for a tow truck. Before doing that she decided to take a closer look at the Jeep. She turned off the engine and stepped out on to the muddy lane. Perhaps there was a note on the windshield. As she approached she saw that the dark tinted glass of the driver’s side window was rolled half-way down. Inside, everything appeared normal. As she had expected, there was no key in the ignition. A road map, two jackets, a paperback book with a curling cover, a partially eaten apple and some magazines were spread over the back seat.

As she turned away from the door, she saw him coming for her.

He wore a black ski mask that revealed only his eyes. Before she could scream, a gloved hand was clasped roughly across her mouth. A second masked man, short and chunky, appeared. A muscular arm encircled her waist. She struggled fiercely, but it was useless. Her assailants were just too strong. A strip of silver duct tape was banded tightly across her mouth. Terrified and inhaling rapidly through her nose to keep pace with her pumping lungs, she was hoisted up and shoved roughly into the back seat of the Jeep. Her head slammed into the roof. For a few seconds she thought she was going to black out. The taller man got in beside her and shoved her across the seat. The magazines and jackets crumpled beneath her as she slid across the smooth leather. He produced a length of white nylon cord and bound her wrists in front of her. Passing the cord round her waist, he knotted it behind her back so she could no longer move her hands. Satisfied that she was immobilized, he motioned for her to turn away from him. Suddenly, her world went black as he strapped blacked-out goggles on her, securing them with more duct tape around the back of her head. She winced as the tape tugged at her hair. She heard him step out of the car, slamming the door behind him. The Jeep bounced lightly as the man got into the driver’s seat. He locked all the doors, started the engine, and drove slowly off. Behind, Kate heard the distinctive rattle of her Trooper’s engine. The second man was following in her car. Tears rolled off her cheek and down her neck.

Chapter Fifteen

We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon – instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today.

Dale Carnegie

Sitting by an open casement window in the sitting room, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun, Alex was going over Alexander Stanhope’s legal ultimatum one more time. He had just finished reading it when he heard the gurgling sound of Kingston’s TR4 as it crunched up the drive. He glanced at his watch. It was a few minutes before two o’clock. He smiled. Kingston was punctual, as usual. Three hours earlier, Kate had left for Shropshire to take Nell back home. This afternoon, he and Kingston were going to keep their appointment with Graham.

When he had told Kingston on the phone that he was going to visit Graham Cooke to deliver the journals, Kingston had insisted on accompanying him despite his having to drive all the way from London to do so. Alex knew full well that it was a convenient, but transparent, excuse for Kingston to camp at The Parsonage for a couple of days. Kate had welcomed the idea. More than ever, Alex was convinced that either Kingston had very few demands on his time or that he was simply an incorrigible quidnunc – another word he had learned from Kingston. He wouldn’t admit it to Kate but he was glad in a way that Kingston was accompanying him to Graham’s.

Entering the room – Alex had left the front door open for him – Kingston looked every part the English country squire: hounds-tooth check jacket, white open-necked shirt, paisley cravat, suede shoes – even a pipe, which he held in his hand. ‘Splendid drive down. Couldn’t have picked a more bonny day.’ He ran a hand through his shock of wind-tossed silvery hair.

Alex wanted to smile but didn’t as he watched Kingston stride across the room, plop down into ‘his’ chair and attempt to light his pipe.

‘Never seen you with a pipe before, Lawrence.’

‘Mostly for show, old chap. Used to smoke it quite regularly till I cracked a tooth on it. More of a placebo, now. Damned things are really more of a nuisance. Always going out. All the paraphernalia you have to carry – tobacco, matches, cleaners, what have you.’

Right off, Alex regretted mentioning the pipe. He knew how Kingston loved to dwell on minutiae and also knew that if he didn’t change the subject immediately, he risked spending the next ten minutes being enlightened on the finer points of pipe smoking. He waved Stanhope’s letter. ‘I’ve memorized every single word of this bloody letter,’ he said. ‘Kate refuses to talk about it any more.’

‘Still no word from Adell, I take it?’

‘No. But if you want my opinion, I think he’ll recommend some kind of compromise.’

‘Such as?’ Kingston lit a match and held it up to the pipe, making loud sucking noises.

‘Well – probably some kind of mutual sharing of royalties. According to everybody’s assessment of the rose’s value, even half of its worth will certainly be in the many millions. You’d think that Graham would be chuffed to bits about a windfall like that, wouldn’t you?’

‘Couldn’t agree with you more. But greed does funny things to people.’

‘Rotten things would be more like it.’ Alex placed the letter on the table next to him, got up and crossed the room to close the window, talking as he went.

‘You know, Lawrence, despite all my reassurances, Kate is still paranoid about losing the house.’

‘I don’t know why. Stanhope’s letter specifically states that they will accept the compromise of your giving up the rose to keep the house. Unless they back out for any reason, there’s no cause for her to worry. I’d just let Adell deal with it, Alex. There’s no point in getting your knickers in a twist over the whole thing.’

Alex returned and sat down facing Kingston. ‘That’s exactly what I told her.’

Kingston smiled then shook his head. ‘It is preposterous when you think about it. It’s a mind-boggling amount of money to give up. A bit like winning the lottery and then losing the ticket.’

‘I told Kate that with the money from the rose, we could buy any property in the entire British Isles. But she’s nutty about this place.’

With a look of mild disgust, Kingston took the pipe out of his mouth, tired of trying to light it, and put it in his top jacket pocket. ‘I can understand her feelings, in a way,’ he said.

Alex got up, put on his leather jacket and checked his trousers pocket to make sure he had the house keys.

‘By the way,’ said Kingston, ‘I take it you haven’t heard any more from the American chap?’

‘No, thank goodness. As of a week ago, neither had Adell. I guess he gave up on the idea.’

‘I doubt it.’

‘Why do you say that?’