‘We don’t seem to be able to find it,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you don’t have it?’
‘No. The last time I saw it was a couple of days ago. I gave it back to Betsy. I’m almost certain she put it in your tray.’
Three pairs of eyes were now fastened on Martha, who shifted uncomfortably, one hand still on the doorknob. ‘Do you think it might be connected with the break-in?’ she asked.
Alex gave Adell a quizzical look. ‘Jesus! Somebody broke into your offices?’
‘Yes – two days ago. There was no evidence of a forced entry. Just a lot of stuff disturbed, as though somebody was looking for something. Whoever it was, he or she was thorough. They tried to enter the computers too. We’ve been taking inventory but so far we’ve found nothing missing.’
‘Up until now, that is,’ said Alex. ‘What did the police say?’
‘They were as perplexed as we were. All they could do was to ask us to report any further unusual circumstances.’
Kate was clearly alarmed. ‘If someone has stolen our file–’
‘Look, let’s not jump to any conclusions,’ Adell interrupted with a growing look of annoyance. ‘There’s a perfectly rational answer for it, I’m sure.’ He looked back to Martha, who was still standing awkwardly by the door. ‘Martha, why don’t you go and take another look? Ask Betsy and Christine to do a search, too.’
It was another five minutes before Martha returned. There was no sign of the file anywhere, she said.
‘I’m sure it’ll show up,’ Adell said. ‘The minute it does, I’ll let you know.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’ Alex asked.
Adell’s face darkened. ‘Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,’ he said, getting up from his chair.
After Adell had seen Alex and Kate out he went into the outer office, where Martha and the other two secretaries were busy undertaking their search for the Sheppards’ file.
‘I didn’t want to alarm the Sheppards,’ he announced, ‘but this is a serious matter. I don’t care if takes all day, or all week, drop everything you’re doing and find that damned file.’
It had stopped raining and was inky dark when Alex and Kate finally arrived back at The Parsonage. After a boisterous greeting from Asp, they went into the sitting room to check for phone messages, go through the day’s mail and read the local newspaper. As usual, Asp jumped up on Kate’s lap, wriggling himself into a comfortable position.
‘No phone messages,’ said Alex, picking up the Wiltshire Gazette and slumping on the couch.
‘I’m surprised Kingston hasn’t called,’ said Kate, scratching the top of Asp’s head.
‘If he does, darling, just for my sake don’t invite him down – not yet, anyway. Much as I admire him and appreciate everything he’s doing, I can only take him in small doses,’ he said, without taking his eyes off the newspaper.
‘More than likely he’ll invite himself. I wonder what he’ll have to say about the missing file?’
‘Hmm,’ Alex grunted, his nose buried in the paper.
She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t more upset about the file. On the train ride home they had talked about it and despite Alex’s attempts to persuade her that, odds were, it was simply misplaced, she was more convinced than ever that it had, indeed, been stolen.
‘I promise not to bring it up again, Alex,’ she said, ‘but that file most certainly contained an awful lot of information about us, not the least of which is our address. Anybody able to put two and two together will conclude that’s where the rose is located.’ She picked up Asp, put him on the floor and stood up. ‘Now, whoever has the file could come snooping around. God, they could steal the rose, or take cuttings.’
Starting towards the door, she looked over her shoulder – to see whether her words had made any impression at all. ‘Alex, you haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?’
Alex lowered the newspaper and peered at Kate over the top of his glasses. ‘Kate, give it a break, we don’t really know, yet, if the file was stolen,’ he said. ‘It’s probably sitting somewhere in his office, in full view. So, let’s not jump to conclusions. Wait until we hear from Adell.’
‘That’s fine, but I still think a burglary–’
‘Businesses get burgled every day,’ Alex sighed. ‘Why should it have anything to do with our file?’
‘Have it your way, then. I’m going to have a nice hot bath,’ she said with a shake of her head, walking out of the room. Asp padded along behind her.
Alex was checking the football results when the phone rang.
‘Mr Sheppard?’ The voice was unfamiliar. Alex’s name was clearly enunciated and the accent was unmistakably American.
‘It is,’ Alex said tentatively. Another one of those bloody telephone marketers, was his immediate thought. A timeshare or a free cellular phone.
The man cleared his throat. ‘I apologize for using the phone for what would normally be accomplished with a written proposal, but I prefer a more direct route.’
‘Who is this?’ asked Alex, making no attempt to disguise his impatience.
His question was ignored. ‘I understand that you have a rose bush on your property that is bearing blue roses. Is that correct?’ the man asked.
Alex almost dropped the phone. ‘What?’ he gasped.
‘This is Alex Sheppard, is it not?’
He swallowed. ‘Yes but how–’
‘Please, Mr Sheppard. It’s my job to know these kinds of things.’
Alex’s mind was still racing. How on earth–?
‘You haven’t answered my question.’
‘You know, I can’t hear you very well, this is a bad line,’ Alex said, playing for time. Wait – hadn’t Adell mentioned a couple of growers? Perhaps it was one of them. No, they were English and Dutch, he clearly recalled. Besides, Adell wouldn’t have given out his and Kate’s name and phone number. Alex was now annoyed. ‘How did you come by this information?’ he demanded.
Again, his question was ignored. ‘It must have been a rewarding moment – discovering a blue rose. I’m sure, by now, that you are aware of the impact such a plant will have on the world of commerce.’
‘Who are you?’ Alex asked.
The man laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh. ‘It’s of no consequence,’ he said. ‘Surely you didn’t think you could keep a discovery of this magnitude secret for long, Mr Sheppard? No, that would be too naïve. Look, I’m not going to pussyfoot around. I would like to make you a proposal right now. Then you can forget this dumb auction idea.’
Alex cupped his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. ‘Jesus Christ,’ he breathed. ‘The man knows everything.’ He removed his hand, now aware of his laboured breathing. ‘I’m not interested in hearing–’
‘If this rose of yours measures up to expectations, the syndicate I represent is prepared to offer you a substantial amount of money – and I mean substantial – in exchange for ownership and all patent rights. Naturally, we will want to have it examined first. If it gets a clean bill of health – if it’s a genuine botanical specimen – then you’ll be presented with an ironclad deal that will include a generous up-front cash advance and royalty payments on sales. It will add up to more money than you’ve ever dreamed of, believe me.’
‘I’m sorry, whoever you are,’ Alex said, ‘you’ll have to discuss all of this with our solicitors, Sheridan, Adell and Broughton.’
‘We know who your solicitors are, Sheppard. I’m making the offer to you. It’ll be a nice clean-cut deal. Within a few days, you and your wife will walk away multi-millionaires. What do you say?’
Alex quickly rejected the idea of lying about the rose. That would be foolish – the man was obviously shrewd and knew too much already. ‘Let me give you Adell’s phone number,’ he said, politely, in an attempt to close the conversation. ‘Whatever he decides is fine with me. But I should tell you that plans for the auction are proceeding. That’s the best I can do – I’m sorry.’