‘Tell me about the blue rose,’ she said, suddenly looking up.
The question caught him off balance. The damned woman was reading his mind. Latimer must have mentioned it to her. ‘You mean my fifteen minutes of fame,’ he replied, grinning.
Over the rim of her wineglass, Jamie’s brown eyes looked larger than normal and inquisitive. ‘That’s not what I heard,’ she said with the slightest smile. ‘You made a big splash according to all reports. Tell me about it.’
Kingston smoothed the tablecloth in front of him, long fingers spread, deciding which version to give her, the abridged or the unexpurgated. Having recounted the story so many times now, he had both by rote. He was about to launch into his narrative when Dot reappeared carrying a tray with two individual dishes of sherry trifle and a silver-plate coffeepot, cups and saucers.
The moment the door closed behind her, Kingston launched into his eyewitness account of the blue rose, and the high drama that had taken place in Wiltshire just a few years ago. Save for the occasional question, Jamie listened attentively and with masked amusement as he relived those days with obvious relish.
Starting with the first phone call from Kate Sheppard, he told how she and her husband, Alex, had discovered a blue rose in the two-acre garden of the old country house they’d just bought. Skeptical, to say the least, he nevertheless drove down the next day to find it was indeed the real thing and worth a proverbial king’s ransom.
Despite all their efforts to keep the rose a secret, word leaked out. First a phone call from an anonymous American wanting to buy the rose direct, soon followed by a letter from a Japanese man representing a wealthy client, also wanting to purchase the rose. To complicate matters even further, the nephew of the spinster from whom Kate and Alex had purchased the house lays claim to the rose.
‘This is starting to sound like a book or a movie,’ said Jamie.
‘It could well be,’ Kingston smiled. ‘And, mind you, I’m leaving a lot out,’he said taking a few spoonfuls of trifle before continuing.
At this point in the game, he said, things started to get nasty. First, the rose is stolen then the most devastating shock of all—Kate gets kidnapped and is held as ransom in exchange for the rose.
Jamie grimaced. ‘“Nasty” sounds like a bit of an understatement.’
‘Perhaps,’ Kingston replied, ‘but I haven’t come to the murder yet.’
‘Murder?’
Kingston nodded, took a sip of coffee and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. ‘Worse, Jamie. Before it was all over, three more people were dead because of that cursed rose—but why don’t I finish the story another time. It hardly makes for very pleasant table talk.’
As the evening drew on Kingston was starting to wonder if she was ever going to ask him about his impressions of Wickersham and how he felt about her proposal. He decided that if she didn’t bring it up before the evening was over, he would take the initiative. Not a minute or so later she got round to the question of his involvement.
Step by careful step, she unfolded her plan, ‘visualizing,’ as she put it, what his role would be, stressing more than once that he could go at whatever pace he felt most comfortable. He noticed, too, that she used mostly ‘whens’ as opposed to ‘ifs’ in talking about his participation. Still, there was no mention of reimbursement.
Before long, the tall-case clock in the hall was announcing eleven o’clock, the somnolent chimes reminding Kingston, as did his eyelids, that it had been a long and remarkable day and that he was ready to pack it in. He glanced at his watch and then at Jamie, who looked wide awake. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. ‘As the classic line goes, Jamie, you’ve made me an offer I can’t refuse. There are some important things we need to get resolved before signing on the dotted line but, by and large, I’m very interested in your project and would like to be part of it.’ He paused to take a sip of coffee, wondering whether she had got the hint. ‘I’m not quite sure if you realize just how huge an undertaking this is but, regardless, I get the impression that you’ll be able to handle it. I think we’ll make a good team.’
‘I know we will,’ she replied with a smile.
‘Would it be all right with you if we picked up our discussion in the morning?’ he asked, stifling a yawn.
For a second, Jamie’s expression was blank. Then, as quickly, she smiled again. ‘Yes, of course. But there’s one thing we haven’t talked about yet, perhaps the most important of all. I apologize for not bringing it up sooner.’
Finally, thought Kingston.