6.The Alcatraz Rose by Anthony Eglin

face for what was now clearly seen by both Andrew and Emma as poor judgment on his part, he was relieved to see that her “policewoman” look had been replaced by a complacent smile.
    “Curiosity is admirable, but it has been known to dispose of cats from time to time, you know,” she said, with a forgiving smile.
    “Mea culpa,” he responded, taken aback by her candor, wondering if Andrew could have whispered in her ear without telling him.
    During a brief interlude while their water glasses were refilled and plates taken away, he saw fit to change the subject, remarking on the restaurant’s long history and the many memorable meals he’d enjoyed there since arriving in London.
    Emma caught him completely off guard with her next comment. “Why do I have a feeling that you were toying with the idea of asking me if I could find out more about Reginald Payne? About his supposed homicide?” The question was accompanied by an amused look and an enigmatic smile.
    Under her inquisitive gaze, Kingston picked up his glass and, in one smooth and nonchalant motion, took a long, slow sip of his wine—a patently transparent attempt to buy a little time before replying, which heknew Emma would see through. But he had to come up with a satisfactory answer, one that was truthful and wouldn’t make her think for one moment that he was taking advantage of their friendship to further his own ambitions.
    He put down his wineglass—more abruptly than he intended—and began.
    “Earlier, I’ll confess the thought had crossed my mind. But since then I’ve given this whole business a lot more thought and done some soul-searching, for want of a better phrase. So let me simply say this: As a matter of courtesy and respect for your former position, I would never presume to ask that of you without first knowing where you stand personally. I also realize that there is the issue of whether it would be permissible for you to do so in the first place, given your former job.” He paused. “For all I know, there could be other considerations as well.”
    Emma showed no intention of debating or questioning anything he’d said, so he continued, his tone a trifle more upbeat.
    “What I
was
toying with was proposing that you and I become partners of a sort in trying to solve the Alcatraz rose mystery, and only that, I want to stress. From everything we know, there’s nothing to suggest criminal activity—and, I’m sure you’ll agree it’s rather unlikely that there would be. There would be no police conflicts that I can think of, you wouldn’t be breaking any rules or conditions of termination, so to speak, and it might give you something challenging to do to spice up the humdrum of retirement. Look on it as somewhat like tackling a particularly difficult brainteaser—you must admit, it is most intriguing.”
    Emma’s attentive expression melted into the same knowing smile as earlier.
    “I could be mistaken, Lawrence, but do I see an equation taking shape here?” she said with a sprinkle of good-humored sarcasm. “Rare English rose shows up thousands of miles away on Alcatraz—chances are, sent by someone who knows about and is personally familiar with such a rose. You, by sheer happenstance, learn of such a person who could have had access to said rose. Unluckily for you, the man has just died—murdered. Have you stumbled on the beginnings of an answer to the puzzle, you ask yourself? It’s not out of the question, you tell yourself, even thoughthe odds are about the same as winning the National Lottery. But in order to take it the next step, you’re in a bind because, first, you’ve no way of getting more information on Payne’s murder—the police aren’t going to provide it—and, second, I get the impression—although I admit it is subtle—that your best friend would prefer that you weigh the possible consequences before getting embroiled in inquiries of this nature. Enter Emma. Am I on the right track?”
    Fortunately