Ben knocked on the door and stood back to wait. When there was no response, he sighed and knocked louder.
“In.”
Ben lifted his brows at Beatrice and opened the door.
The room was large, and contained a huge variety of plants and flowers at various stages of growth, along with a humungous selection of books. Drawings and diagrams lined all of the walls, and were scattered across the solitary desk located in the centre of the room.
Beatrice studied the man behind it and wondered if he was still alive. He was so old that he looked as though he had a hit his hundredth birthday quite some time ago. He looked as fragile as the flower in Beatrice’s study, to the point that she rather suspected that if a good gust of wind blew him over, he wasn’t likely to get back up again.
“Good morning,” Ben said when the man finally seemed to realise he had company. “I am Mr Addison, and this is Miss Northolt.”
The mention of Beatrice’s surname was enough to make the man suddenly pick his glasses off his desk and peer through them so he could study her more closely.
“Northolt, you say?” He scowled at her. “Would you be related to Matthew Northolt?”
“Yes, he was my uncle,” Beatrice replied with a nod.
The man’s face was suddenly wreathed in smiles, and he stood up and hurried around the table with a youthful agility that belied his age.
“Please, come in and take a seat. My name is Archibald Harrington, but you may call me Archie, my dear. Your uncle always did. Matthew told me so much about you, and always spoke so highly of you.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I have been dying to meet you.”
“I am delighted to meet you too,” Beatrice replied and, to her surprise, found herself enveloped in a huge hug. “Please, call me Beatrice, and this is Ben, my friend,” she gasped when he released her.
Ben stepped forward and held his hand out only to lift his brows at Archie’s next comment.
“I have heard a lot about you too,” Archie sighed as he shook hands with Ben. He held his hands at his waist in a rather proud pose as he stood back to study him. “Matthew always spoke so highly about you, and often confided to me that he felt you were a suitable match for his niece. I am glad that you finally listened to sense.”
Beatrice felt her cheeks blush and coughed a little uncomfortably as she took the seat Archie offered her in front of the desk.
“I hope you don’t mind our intrusion? I know we should have written first but we need some advice as a matter of urgency.”
Archie resumed his seat and leaned his elbows on the desk. “You should feel free to call upon me whenever you need to, my dear. Any relation of Matthew’s is more than welcome here.”
Ben withdrew the packaging paper, which contained a list of names and the cultivation notes, and handed it to Archie. They watched as he picked up his spectacles again and peered down at it.
They looked at each other when Archie’s face suddenly grew still and his mouth fell open.
“Merciful heavens, this is Matthew’s writing,” Archie whispered.
Beatrice opened her mouth to deny it, but felt Ben move beside her. She turned to look at him and watched him shake his head ever so slightly, and so remained quiet. They both knew that Ben was the one who had copied the drawing and notes; they were definitely not Matthew Northolt’s notes. Was Archie lying, or was it a genuine mistake?
“Can you translate the Latin phrases?” Beatrice asked when Archie became so engrossed in the notes that he seemed to have forgotten they were there.
Archie studied the names and addresses only briefly, then turned his attention back to the notes. “Oh, I can, my dear. The last time I saw him, Matthew, he said that he was involved in a special project with some colleagues, but was a little cagey about it. He said that it was a scientific experiment that nobody had ever tried before and, although there was nothing likely to come from it, he was going to give it a go anyway.”
“I take it that these are cultivation notes?” Beatrice tapped the area of the packaging paper that contained the Latin words.
Archie sighed and peered over the top of his spectacles. “These are cultivation notes for an extremely rare orchid called Caelestia Perfectionis. It is a rare cross-breed of tropical plant cultivated from two specimens originating from entirely different tropical countries. Nobody has ever done anything like it before and, to be honest, nobody really thought it was at all possible. However, if Jules Sanders is involved, then he may be able to make it happen.”
“He made it happen,” Beatrice replied quietly. “I have it.”
Archie’s eyes flew to hers and he studied her carefully for several long moments. However, Beatrice didn’t want to start to answer a lot of questions about the plant right now, she wanted to get to the second reason why they were there.
“So, those are the cultivation notes,” she tapped the Latin words and random symbols. “Am I right in thinking that these men had something to do with the plant’s cultivation, along with my uncle?”
“They are all botanists, Beatrice,” Archie replied cautiously. “However, I seriously doubt that they are colleagues. Jules and Browning had an argument only the other week, at the Town Hall, about ownership of something. I don’t know, I only heard rumours you understand, and different people always have different stories to tell. However, I know that Brian Mottram was a good friend of your uncle’s, and Matthew worked on several projects with Jules. It may be that the men worked together on the cultivation of the plant you have, I just don’t know. Unfortunately, Richard Browning doesn’t have many friends. He isn’t well liked, if you know what I mean?”
Ben shared a look with Beatrice. “Is he likely to have had anything to do with the cultivation of the rare orchid?”