‘That’ll be a cryin’ shame. I hear she’s real pretty. Six o’clock, you got it?’
At a minute after six, the phone rang. Hand trembling, Alex picked it up. Kingston was close by his side.
‘Alex Sheppard,’ he said.
‘Do you have something to tell me, Sheppard?’
Alex took a deep breath. Kingston had cautioned him to keep his cool and stick to the point. ‘I do, yes.’
‘About time, for Christ’s sake. Okay, where’s the rose?’
‘If I tell you, when do I get Kate back?’
‘First things first. Where’s the rose?’
‘Sorry, I must know about Kate.’
‘Listen, Sheppard, I’m not going to keep on playing these dumb-assed word games with you.’ His voice was dispassionate and calm. ‘You tell me right now where that rose is. If it’s where you say it is and it’s the real thing, then we’ll hand over your wife. Got it?’
Alex cupped his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered to Kingston. ‘I’m going to have to tell him where it is. He won’t let Kate go until they’ve seen it.’
Kingston nodded, okay.
‘Sheppard, you still there?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Then say something.’
‘Get something to write on, because I’m going to give you an address in Sussex where you can meet me the day after tomorrow. Be there at noon. When you go there – or whoever goes there – make sure you bring Kate. When I get Kate, you’ll get the rose. Is that straightforward enough for you?’
‘You’d better not be jerking me around, Sheppard, because my time and patience are wearing dangerously thin.’ Alex could hear him breathing during the brief pause that followed.
‘You ready?’
‘Okay. Just remember you’re dealing with your wife’s life. Make any foolish moves or bring the police into this and you’ll be attending a funeral in the next couple days. Understand what I’m saying?’
‘Yes.’
‘All right, where is this place?’
Alex gave him Compton’s address.
‘Sunday it is, then. Before noon,’ the American said.
‘Right. But one more thing. If the thought of arriving early crosses your mind, forget it. It won’t do you any good. You won’t find the rose and we’ll already be there, anyway.’
‘We?’
‘I’ll have a friend with me, that’s all.’
‘That friend better not be anyone vaguely resembling a cop or you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.’
‘Don’t worry, he isn’t.’
‘Good. Sunday at noon, then, Sheppard. And don’t screw up.’
‘I’ll be there.’
‘You better be.’ He hung up without another word.
Saturday morning arrived clear and breezy at The Parsonage. Peg had stopped by to pick up Asp around nine. When Alex had opened the door, she let out a gasp, but quickly recovered. Alex knew exactly what was going through her mind and was prepared for the reaction. After listening to him explain that he had had a severe case of food poisoning and had been under the weather for about a week, it seemed she believed his story. Then he had had to deal with the matter of Kate’s absence. This time he could tell that she wasn’t quite buying his trumped-up story about Kate’s insisting on being by her ailing aunt’s side for a few more days but mercifully she didn’t question him. He felt guilty about having to tell such blatant lies.
Back outside, he introduced Peg to Kingston who was already waiting by the Alfa, overnight bag by his side and professional camera case dangling from his shoulder. Peg put Asp in the back seat of her Volvo, hugged Alex one more time and got behind the wheel. A quick wave and a blown kiss and she was off.
Alex opened the boot and put their bags in, laying his leather jacket on top. ‘Okay,’ he said, slamming the lid down. ‘Let’s get going.’
‘And let’s hope to God that we’re right about Sapphire being there,’ Kingston rejoined, getting in the car.
‘Don’t say that, Lawrence.’
‘She’s there all right, Alex. I’m certain of it,’ he said.
Alex got into the Alfa and started the engine. He waited while Kingston groped for the seat belt and struggled to get comfortable in the cramped quarters. Breathing heavily, Kingston finally managed to snap the buckle closed. ‘Just as bloody well I’m not claustrophobic,’ he grunted. ‘Driving my TR4’s like being in a Roller compared to this Italian sardine tin.’
Alex ignored the remark and concentrated on negotiating the narrow winding lanes out of Steeple Tarrant. Soon they were humming along the A345 to hook up with the motorway.
More for idle conversation than anything else, Alex speculated about what would happen to the rose, once it was all over. Kingston, from the beginning, had been committed to the idea of the rose being handed over for research. He was steadfast and vociferous on the matter. Launching into one of his endless discourses, he reminded Alex that plants of all kinds, even toxic ones, were playing an ever larger role in treating various diseases and infirmities. ‘Digitoxin, used medicinally to treat heart arrhythmias and congestive heart failure, is extracted from the foxglove plant,’ he said. ‘Feverfew, the pretty, miniature, daisy-like plant, helps relieve migraines, arthritic pains and nausea; and
‘Considering all the other bizarre circumstances surrounding Sapphire,’ Alex said, ‘I wouldn’t be the least surprised if it did.’
‘One way or another, Alex, we have to make sure that whatever happens to the rose – regardless of who ends up owning it – it is made available for research.’
‘You might have a job persuading Wolff.’
‘I know.’ He waited for a moment until they had passed a long ten-wheeled lorry, then continued. ‘It’s a fitting paradox that a great number of plants that can take lives are also capable of saving lives. Alex, I have a compelling belief about this rose. Beyond its colour and toxicity, I’m convinced that it could hold the key to unlocking genetic information that botanists and biochemists have been trying to fathom for centuries.’
He gazed thoughtfully out of the window for a while, then turned and looked at Alex, smiling. ‘There’s another plant I forgot about, Alex. Good old henbane,
‘Charming.’
‘Interesting case. He was arrested aboard ship. First time a criminal had ever been apprehended using radio air-waves. Scotland Yard was tipped off by the ship’s captain, whose suspicions were aroused when he saw two men kissing.’
‘Really!’
‘Turned out one of them was Crippen’s mistress, disguised as a man.’
‘You making all this up?’
‘No, old chap. Ethel, I think her name was.’
For a few miles they drove in silence, Kingston studying the map.
‘By the way, I didn’t tell you about my little ruse, did I?’ said Kingston, looking up from the map.
‘Ruse?’
‘Yes, I think you’ll like it,’ he said. ‘It’s quite ingenious.’
‘Lawrence, I’ve already got the jitters about this whole Compton’s thing. Suppose we get down there and find that Compton knows bugger all about the rose having been stolen – that there is no rose there. Why couldn’t we have just phoned him first?’
