‘Why use a code for hybridizing roses in the first place?’ asked Alex. ‘It all seems a bit pointless. Aren’t we over-reaching just a wee bit? All this cloak and dagger stuff?’
‘Not necessarily,’ Kingston retorted. ‘Not if Cooke and Farrow sensed they were close to a breakthrough as earthshaking as a blue rose.’
Kate thought Alex’s question reasonable but it was clear by Kingston’s frown that he didn’t agree one bit.
‘Under the circumstances,’ he said, straightening up in his chair and looking down his nose at Alex, ‘some kind of coded entries of their cross-pollinating would be logical – even advisable, I would say. It’s not at all far-fetched. Besides, they were old army chums. It was fun. Brought back memories of their old days.’
‘You know something,’ said Kate. ‘Maybe we should quit while we’re ahead. It seems to me that if we continue digging into this code business we might well end up establishing that Cooke and Farrow did, indeed, create the rose. This seems counterproductive to what Adell is doing – trying to establish us as the rightful owners.’
Alex was looking testy. ‘Look, if I recall correctly, Adell’s last words were that we were to proceed on the assumption that we are the sole owners.’ He looked briefly at Kate, then rested his eyes on Kingston. ‘So, for the time being, why don’t we do that?’
‘I think Alex is right,’ said Kate, breaking the momentary silence.
Kingston simply shrugged.
Alex folded his napkin and placed it tidily in front of him. ‘Going back to what you were saying, Lawrence – about the code thing. I’ll buy your theory,’ he said, ‘but who the hell would be capable of cracking the Major’s code now? This Enigma business was nearly sixty years ago. Surely most of those people are long gone by now, aren’t they?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Kingston, ‘but I’ve been doing a little digging on my own.’
‘Of course you have,’ Alex muttered.
Kingston ignored the jibe. ‘When I was up at Bletchley I posed the question to the director, a nice lady. As I expected, nobody on the staff up there has any knowledge of the codes themselves, but she suggested that I talk to the Defence Intelligence and Security Centre people at Chicksands in Bedfordshire.’ He rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment. ‘If we draw a blank there, there would appear to be no other avenues left open, I’m afraid.’
‘If we know the code, does that mean we can replicate the rose? Create more of them?’ Kate asked.
‘In all probability, yes. But there’s a small problem.’
‘What’s that?’ Alex asked.
‘The missing journal,’ said Kingston.
‘What about it?’
‘I’d bet a tidy sum that the crossing formula necessary to do that is contained in the missing journal. That’s why it’s missing.’
‘Somebody else knows about the blue rose?’ Kate asked, frowning.
‘I wouldn’t rule it out entirely,’ Kingston said, leaning back in his chair.
Chapter Nine
But ne’er the rose without the thorn.
Robert Herrick
Another week went by and July continued miserable. An umbrella shop couldn’t have wished for a better day. Stumbling along the shiny, slick pavement of Lincoln’s Inn Fields, Alex did his best to shield Kate and himself from the constantly shifting curtains of rain that whipped across the square, beating a tattoo on his black umbrella. Every once in a while he would peek around the edge of the near-horizontal brolly, getting his face drenched each time he did so. At last he saw the alley and the welcoming portal of Sheridan, Adell and Broughton’s offices. In the next hour or so they would get an update on Adell’s progress with the auction arrangements. It was now three weeks since their last meeting.
‘Nasty day,’ Chris Adell said, relieving them of their coats, umbrella, and Kate’s beret.
‘Phew,’ Alex whistled, as his body adjusted to the comfortable warmth of the room. ‘They’ll be pairing off the animals soon, if this keeps up.’
Adell’s secretary entered the room and placed a tray of tea and biscuits on the table. ‘This’ll warm you up a bit,’ she said before leaving.
‘Please – help yourselves,’ said Adell. ‘Any more developments with Sapphire?’
‘Not a lot, really,’ Alex replied. ‘Except for Lawrence Kingston’s latest theory.’
‘What’s that?’
Alex then described Kingston’s recent trip to Bletchley and his visit with Jennifer Farrow.
‘He’s becoming more and more convinced now that Cooke and Farrow might have had something to do with the rose,’ said Kate.
Adell laughed. ‘It all sounds quite cloak and dagger – a missing journal, Bletchley Park, Enigma codes.’
‘Exactly what I said,’ said Alex.
‘This Kingston chap sounds awfully creative. I’d like to meet him one day. Meanwhile, let me update you on the auction.’ He picked up the phone and punched in a single digit. ‘Martha, would you bring in the Sheppards’ file, please. I forgot to ask you to pull it out earlier. Sorry.’
Adell reached into the side drawer of his desk and extracted a manila folder. ‘I want to show you this.’ Opening the folder he removed a brochure. ‘This is a colour proof of the brochure that we’ve put together for the auction sale of the rose.’ He handed it to Alex.
Alex held it up so that Kate could see it too. It was much larger than an average brochure, folding into three panels. The artwork was a pleasing combination of fine line drawings that resembled old engravings and computer-enhanced photography. The photo of the blue rose, spanning two of the inside panels, was beautifully executed. Not quite like the real thing, thought Kate, but most impressive.
‘Nicely done,’ said Alex.
‘Keep it. It’s for you. Look at it when you get back home and let me know if you have any suggestions or changes. It’s not going to go to press for a few days so there’s plenty of time for corrections.’
For the next five minutes Adell outlined the marketing plan and overall strategy for the first-ever auction of a rose.
Adell looked pleased with himself. ‘So there we are,’ he said, leaning back and folding his arms. ‘In another couple of weeks we’ll send out the announcement and Bob’s your uncle.’ Abruptly his smile vanished. ‘By the way, word is out already, by the looks of it.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Kate.
‘We’ve already received two pre-emptive bids from growers. One of them here, in the UK, the other from Holland. You can see what I meant when I said it would be nigh on impossible to keep such a discovery under wraps.’
Kate frowned. ‘But how could they know about it if the brochure isn’t even printed yet?’
‘We’ve been having conversations with Bonham’s, the auctioneers, since you were here last. Naturally, we requested that they treat it with the utmost confidentiality, but you can see how impossible that soon becomes. The faxes and e-mails that have already gone back and forth. We knew all along that it would be impossible to contain such–’
There was a barely audible knock on the door and Martha took one step into the room, holding the door open behind her. She was empty-handed.
‘Well, Martha?’ Adell said, gesturing with his hands. ‘Where’s the file?’