***
Theo Beckett had a limp. He also had white hair that curled around his ears and a bald spot on the top of his head. His gnarled hands were tanned from the sun, and dirt was embedded in his fingernails.
We found him in his vegetable garden, sowing seeds that would survive the winter. He stood and held out a hand.
“What can I do for you, Detective?”
“We’re here because you sent a letter to the Gazette about a specific type of rose.”
Theo scratched his chin, leaving behind a dirt smudge. “Yeah, that’s right. I used to work for the palace, taking care of the grounds. I recognized the drawing from the paper. The flower is an Aster Mauve. It’s been years since I’ve seen one.”
“An Aster Mauve? I’ve never heard of it,” I said, making a note.
“They’re exceedingly rare and aren’t local to this region. What makes them distinctive is their heart-shaped petals and hearty growth cycle. They’re known to last through heavy frost and even through part of the winter.”
“And when was the last time you saw one?” Derrick asked.
Theo furrowed his brow. “Years ago. There was a young woman who worked for me, tending the palace gardens. She had seedlings shipped from overseas, and we grew them in the palace greenhouse with thoughts of transplanting them on castle grounds.”
I looked up from the notebook. “Palace greenhouse? I wasn’t aware there was such a thing.”
“There isn’t anymore. It’s been abandoned for years, but it’s about half a mile from here. There were rumors back then that the king was having an affair. It wasn’t any of my business, but the young woman—Diane was her name—got caught up in the rumor. Then, one day, she vanished. Never saw her again. It wasn’t long after that we stopped using the greenhouse. I never did transplant those roses.”
Derrick caught my eye. He had the same question I did.
“Do you think Diane had an affair with the king?”
“It’s possible. I always wondered what happened to her, but to be honest, there was a lot of turnover in the palace staff back then, so someone leaving wasn’t out of the norm.” He picked up a pair of gardening gloves and gathered a trowel. “Come with me, I’ll take you up to the greenhouse so you can have a look.”
We traveled the half-mile, the brush getting thicker as we went. The path winded through a dense forest then opened onto a clearing, where a massive glass building resided, it’s vaulted ceiling reaching up into the trees. The greenhouse was decrepit. Cracked windows smeared with years of grime peered back at us. Rusted iron trimmed the glass panes and formed an ornamental design along the roof. It looked ready to collapse if not for the overgrown branches holding it in place. Weeds and tangled vines choked the walls and the inside of the structure.
“Diane loved it here. She’d spend most of her time in the greenhouse. It’s a shame to see it this way. It used to be beautiful, full of vibrant flowers.”
I rubbed a spot in the dirt with my sleeve to peer through the glass. “What happened to the seedlings?”
“Oddly enough, they vanished too. I never could wrap my head around that one.” Theo kicked at a mound of dried grass. “Diane must have taken them with her.”
It didn’t add up. Clearly, Diane fit into the puzzle somewhere, but we were still missing a piece. The fact she had worked at the palace didn’t bode well for the prince. He would have been a child when she was around and likely wouldn’t have had anything to do with her disappearance—assuming she had disappeared and didn’t leave on her own.
I groaned internally and pressed my fingers into my eyelids. Why did every lead create more questions? At least we’d found the origin of the roses. Now, we needed to find out how Diane was connected to the murders.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Beckett, and for showing us the greenhouse.” I opened my notebook and looked over the entry. “One other thing, do you happen to remember Diane’s last name?”
Theo rubbed the bald spot on his head and pursed his lips in thought. “What was it? It’s on the tip of my tongue.” He tapped his shoe. “That’s right, I remember. It was Porter. Diane Porter.”
My jaw dropped, and I looked at Derrick. Surprise widened his features.
“Did Diane have any family locally?” he asked.
Theo nodded. “Yes, a sister. I think her name was Jane.”
Chapter 29
“Wow. I leave for a few days to investigate a suspected haunting and come back to this? Helen’s dead, and Jane had a sister who grew the type of roses left at the crime scene. You two have been busy.” Vivian shook her head and added a splash of bourbon to her tea.
My eyes narrowed as she screwed the cap back on the flask. “Since when do you drink bourbon?”
“Hmm, what?” She tucked it under the table and wrinkled her brow.
