The Blue Rose

bottles of wine, were the remains of lunch. It was a week to the day after the showdown in Sussex.

Kingston had left half an hour earlier to drive back to London. After his wound had been treated at the Victoria Hospital in Lewes, Kate and Alex had insisted – over Kingston’s thinly disguised protestations – that he come back with them and stay at The Parsonage for a few days to recover. On the drive home, Alex had to suffer the discomfort and indignity of the Alfa’s jump seat.

Towards the end of lunch Kate had expressed concern about the quantity of wine Kingston had consumed and had invited him to stay overnight.

‘The offer’s tempting, old girl, but I really must get back. You know I have an awful lot of catching up to do. Besides,’ he grinned, ‘there is a limit to how many times one’s underwear can be washed.’

In the hours and days after the Sunday in Sussex a clearer picture of what happened that morning had emerged. Surprisingly, it had all taken place in less than an hour. Nine people were involved. Of the nine, one had since died.

Two days after returning home, Alex had phoned the hospital in Lewes to inquire about Wolff ’s condition. The hospital spokesperson informed him that Wolff had succumbed to the massive infection resulting from his wounds. Describing Vicky’s symptoms and death and pointing out the similarity with Wolff ’s, Alex urged the Lewes doctors to confer with those at the John Radcliffe Hospital. He was assured that the hospital staff would follow up on the matter and keep him informed of their findings.

They had heard from Charlie Compton, too. He had phoned Alex to report that the local environmental health officer had visited the site and that the Department of Health had taken custody of the rose. The official informed Compton that the rose would ‘remain in the department’s custody until further notice’. That was the government’s official position.

Alex was curious to know what had happened after the two of them took off, when Wolff shot Kingston. Compton said that the minute he got to the office he phoned the police, telling them that all hell was breaking loose and that someone had been shot. He also told them about the shotgun blast, earlier. The police told him that they’d already received a similar call from a woman and that a car and ambulance were on their way. The policeman had been emphatic about his not going back outside, particularly with his shotgun, as he had wanted to. He told Compton under no circumstances should he intervene and that he should stay put until they arrived.

As for Tanaka, Compton said that the last he saw of him, he was running towards his car. He hadn’t heard from him since. He also learned that the police had later picked up Tanaka’s BMW, which turned out to be hired.

Questioned on the theft of the rose, Compton told Alex that he had no inkling Tanaka was involved in anything unlawful. He assumed, from the beginning, that what Adell and Tanaka had both told him was true: that Tanaka represented a wealthy Japanese industrialist who wanted to purchase the rose. And it was, of course. But Compton had no idea that it was Tanaka – or somebody in his pay – who had nicked the rose out of Nell’s garden.

Not surprisingly, when news of the blue rose’s discovery and the incidents and deaths linked to it hit the streets, an avalanche of press coverage followed. The story was splashed across the front page of just about every newspaper and magazine in Britain. The international press was quick to follow. Garden publications, of course, clamoured for stories and photos and several major American publications, including Newsweek and Time, dispatched reporters to cover Wiltshire’s now notorious blue rose. Even pictures of the farmhouse where Kate had been incarcerated appeared in the press. She had filed a police report of her kidnapping and her time held captive, and had helped the police locate the farmhouse.

Then there was the matter of Graham’s death. Soon after they had returned from Sussex, Alex had received a not-unexpected phone call from Inspector Holland, requesting a follow-up meeting. Naturally, Holland had seen all the press coverage. The get-together at The Parsonage with Kate, Alex and Kingston lasted over an hour. It was more cordial than the one to which Alex had been subjected the first time.

Holland informed them – as he had earlier told Alex – that at first it was thought that Graham had died from a heart attack caused during a struggle. But further examination by the pathologists had revealed that his skull was fractured. Blunt force trauma, Holland said. Confirming Kingston’s suspicions about Tanaka’s involvement, Holland volunteered that they had witnesses who had seen two men – one of them Asian – enter Cooke’s house about half an hour before Alex and Kingston discovered the body. Alex, of course, was no longer a suspect.

Alex leaned across the table and put his hand on Kate’s. ‘It’s going to seem awfully quiet around here for a while,’ he said.

‘Thank God for that,’ said Kate, with a winsome smile. ‘By the way, I gave Peg a sterling silver frame the other day for taking such good care of the shop and for looking after Asp while you were gone. She sold quite a lot of stuff, actually.’

‘That was nice of you.’

Their talk turned to more prosaic matters, mostly concerning the house, Kate’s shop and the amount of catching up facing Alex at his office. At a pause in the conversation Kate looked at him for a long moment, but said nothing.

‘You look a little sad, darling. What are you thinking about?’

She tilted her head back and looked up into the coppery leaves of the Japanese maple that hung over the edge of the terrace. ‘I was thinking about Vicky.’

Alex said nothing, not wanting to disturb her thoughts.

‘All because of that rose,’ she sighed. ‘All because of that damned rose.’

‘How were we to know, Kate?’

‘I know.’ She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘I have to stop by and see Jill at the nursery.’ She hesitated. ‘You said you talked to her.’

‘Yes, briefly, when Lawrence and I were trying to find out whether you or Vicky had taken cuttings. And if you had, what had happened to them. I told you about it. Since they had all died and had already been disposed of I didn’t think it necessary to report it. But thinking back on it, I suppose I should have at least told the Health Department.’ He shrugged. ‘Of course, Jill never knew what they were.’

‘Thank God she didn’t handle them.’

‘I should say. You know, in a way, it’s just as well that they died. They were a time bomb sitting on the shelf of that greenhouse. Ten baby blue killers.’

A startled look crossed Kate’s face. ‘Ten?’

‘That’s what Jill said.’

‘You’re certain?’

‘I’m positive. She said all ten died from lack of watering.’

‘Oh dear,’ Kate said, biting her lip.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘It may not be over yet, Alex.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Vicky took twelve cuttings.’

‘You could be mistaken, couldn’t you?’

‘No. She took them early the morning you and Vicky dug up the rose. She put them in our garden shed until the two of you returned. When you did, she picked them up and took them to the nursery on her way home. At least, that was her plan. I remember offering to bring them in the next day because she wasn’t feeling well, but she insisted it wasn’t a problem.’

‘Are you absolutely sure? It was quite a while ago,’ said Alex.

‘No, I’m sure of it. Vicky made a remark to the effect that she stopped at twelve because one more would have been unlucky. I thought at the time that a dozen was quite a lot.’

They exchanged awkward glances. Neither spoke.

Kate looked at her watch and got up. ‘Just to be absolutely sure, let me call Jill.’

She turned and walked into the house.

Five minutes later she returned and sat down to face Alex, an enigmatic look on her face.

‘Well?’ he said.