‘Yes, the chap who wanted the rose for his client in Japan. I was about to respond by telling him politely not to call you again, that he would have to wait for the auction and hold up his bidding card just like everybody else. Then it occurred to me…’ He took off his glasses, put them on the desk and rubbed his eyes, ‘that this might present the perfect opportunity for me to do Charlie Compton a favour. He’s a client of mine. Runs a rose-growing business down in Sussex, Compton and Sons. I told you about him when you and Kate were last here, do you remember?’
‘Yes, I do,’ said Alex. ‘Near Brighton, you said.’
‘Right. Our firm did work for his father way back, before my time. Patent stuff, mostly. The company’s not big, by any means – quite small actually. Charlie’s been going through a rough patch this last year or so. Between you and me, they’ve been having trouble lately meeting the payroll. Like a lot of industries, the big boys are getting bigger and the competition more cut-throat.’ He took a breath. ‘Then along comes Tanaka’s letter.’
Kingston flashed Alex a sly look, at the same time giving his leg a gentle kick behind the cover of the desk.
‘Go on. What happened next?’ asked Alex.
Adell toyed with his glasses. ‘If Tanaka was successful in bidding for the rose, I thought he would need somebody to handle the logistics of moving it: transplanting, shipping, all that kind of stuff. With the high stakes involved, that had to be undertaken by somebody who knew roses. It was out of the question for Charlie’s company to consider bidding for the rose at auction, but I saw no harm in telling Tanaka to contact him. It wasn’t like I was giving Charlie preferential treatment. He just couldn’t be a player. But if he hooked up with Tanaka, he could be a valuable asset. My guess was that he would probably make quite a chunk of money out of such an arrangement.’ He cleared his throat, nervously. ‘Well, I faxed Tanaka and told him about Charlie. Suggested that the two might be able to work something out that could be mutually beneficial. Only if Tanaka was successful in acquiring the rose, of course. Naturally, I couldn’t be involved in any part of it. I made that perfectly clear. That’s about the sum of it, I guess,’ he said, clasping his hands together.
‘So, they got together?’
‘Yes. Charlie called me later and told me so. That’s all I know.’
‘If Tanaka had our address, chances are he gave it to Compton, too.’
‘Well…’ Adell fumbled for the right words. ‘I assume he must have because – yes, I remember, now – Compton told me at the time that he wanted to meet you and Kate, Alex. He was very excited about the prospect.’
‘So Compton knew early on that we owned the rose – where we lived, too – the whole story,’ said Alex.
Adell ignored his comment. ‘I told Charlie I’d breached ethical boundaries in telling him. That he must respect that, and not bring up the subject of the rose again. To the best of my knowledge he kept that promise.’ He straightened, and put his glasses in their case, as if to indicate that the conversation was about to end. ‘In any case, just because he knew about the rose hardly means he stole it.’
‘Forgive me,’ Kingston said, interrupting. ‘Your Mr Compton seems to me to be far and away our most likely suspect. There’s only one other candidate but for reasons I won’t go into we’re ruling him out for the moment.’
‘We must to talk to Compton,’ Alex snapped. ‘Lives could be at stake here.’
‘Even his,’ said Kingston.
Adell snorted. ‘Come on, aren’t you exaggerating a bit?’
Alex and Kingston exchanged looks. ‘I’m afraid not and I’ll tell you why,’ said Kingston. ‘Alex and I have discovered something else about this ravishing beauty of a rose. It’s hiding a dirty little secret.’
Adell looked even more confused. He chuckled, nervously. ‘A dirty little secret? Like what?’
‘It seems the rose is highly toxic,’ Alex said. ‘Deadly. I’ve already told you that it’s been responsible for the deaths of four people we know of. There could be more, for all we know.’ He waited for the stunned expression to register fully on Adell’s face. ‘If we don’t find the rose, very soon,’ he said, ‘there will be more deaths.’
‘If the thorns of that rose draw blood,’ Kingston interjected, ‘death follows within seventy-two hours.’
‘How in hell did you find out that the rose was toxic?’
‘It’s too long a story, right now, I’m afraid. But believe us, that rose can kill.’ Alex replied. ‘And quickly, I might add.’
Adell remained silent as he weighed Alex’s words.
‘You can see, now, why we must find that rose,’ Kingston said in a measured voice. ‘Why you must help us.’
Chapter Twenty-two
I have never had so many good ideas day after day as when I work in the garden.
John Erskine
From his business class window seat in British Airways Flight 48 from Seattle to Heathrow, Ira Wolff looked down on the neat green patchwork of fields dotted with red-roofed houses. Compared to the jigsaw archipelago and conifer-clad mountainous terrain of Seattle’s Puget Sound, the scene below looked oddly quaint; like a toy shop miniature. This was his first visit to England. Despite the unpleasant task at hand, he was looking forward to it.
Marcus was to meet him at the terminal. They would go directly to the farmhouse where Kate Sheppard was being held.
Taking her had been one of his last options. It was not at all what he had wanted. But weighing the risk against the enormous reward, he had no choice. He had to constantly remind himself that his job, his company, his very existence were on the line. Extreme measures were sometimes unavoidable. A few more days, he reassured himself. Just a few more days and his problems would be over.
At the cabin attendant’s request, he put his seat in the upright position and placed his reading glasses and book in his briefcase. Wisps of clouds flashed past the window; the Boeing 747-400 was about to land.
As planned Marcus met Wolff as he cleared customs. The drive to the farmhouse near Steeple Tarrant took about an hour and a half. The day was pleasantly cool, a welcome change from Lakeford’s blistering summer heat.
‘Jake tells me Sheppard’s still saying he don’t know where the rose is. He gave Sheppard the forty-eight hours like you said,’ Marcus said, casually.
Jake Doyle was one of several men on Wolff ’s private payroll. He was the man whom Wolff had picked to contact Alex Sheppard. He had been in England from day one, with Marcus and Billy. It was he who had hired the Londoner – a small-time criminal – who had met Alex in Oxford to get the agreement signed.
‘When I get through with him he will,’ Wolff said, stifling a yawn.
‘Billy’s been keeping a close watch on him. He’s holed up at the house with that friend of his.’
‘Good. I just hope that by now he’s realized he’s in a no-win situation. I don’t want to have to paint an ugly picture of what might happen to his wife if he doesn’t come to his senses. Tell the truth, I’m getting tired of Alex Sheppard. How is his wife, anyway? Is she still behaving herself?’
‘Up till now she’s been quiet as a mouse – real cooperative, in fact. Billy had one too many beers the other night and wanted to bring her downstairs but I put a quick stop to that.’
‘Good.’ Wolff shook his head. ‘What’s wrong with that moron? Get rid of him after this is over – he’s depriving a village somewhere of an idiot.’
For several miles, Wolff was content to admire the countryside. Winding up the window to lessen the noise, he turned to tell Marcus about his plan of action for the next forty-eight hours.
It took Alex and Kingston almost three hours to get back to The Parsonage. The traffic getting out of London was horrendous. There was one message on the answering machine. Alex pushed the play button. It was the American. ‘The meter’s run out, Sheppard. I’m giving you one last nickel. I’ll call you again at six this evening but that’s it. If you won’t tell us where the rose is at that time, then the fun and games start with your wife.’ Pause.
