The Rest is Silence (Billy Boyle World War II Mystery) by James R. Benn Read Free Book Online

be so vulgar.” A woman spoke from behind us.
    “Helen, dear,” David said, turning toward his wife. She was thin, with dark blonde hair that was outshone by her husband’s vivid color. Pretty, in a timid sort of way. She wore pearls and a red silk dress that drew your eyes to every fold. David did the introductions. Helen smiled as Kaz bowed and kissed her hand. I could have kicked him. I blushed and shook her hand, which I could tell was not the highlight of her evening.
    “Do I understand that you’re with the military police?” Helen asked Kaz.
    “What’s this about the police?” Another voice, this one from an ancient lady wearing a dress that had last been stylish back when the kaiser was running things in Germany. She was small and thin like Helen, but she had Meredith’s jaw and the kind of voice Sister Mary Margaret used to use when I’d done something wrong, which was every waking minute, according to her.
    “Great Aunt Sylvia, come and meet our guests,” Helen said, taking her by the arm.
    “Don’t shout, Helen! I am not yet deaf. Which one is the policeman, and why is he here? Has something been stolen?”
    “Nothing has been stolen, Auntie,” Meredith said, taking her hand and maneuvering her into a comfortable chair. “Helen misunderstood. This is Baron Piotr Kazimierz. He was with David at Oxford. Baron Kazimierz, this is Lady Pemberton.”
    “Charmed,” Kaz said as he clasped her gloved hand and bowed. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
    “I’d say you were welcome, but the hospitality is not mine to give,” she said, turning her raised eyebrows on me. “And this is?”
    “Captain William Boyle, Lady Pemberton,” I said, lowering my head a notch. I wasn’t much for bowing to the English, even old ladies. I kept my hands clasped behind my back and left out my usual invite to call me Billy. I doubted she’d care to.
    “Thank you, Edgar,” she said, studying me as Edgar kept up his bartending duties with a glass of sherry. “It’s nice to see some new faces, David. Sir Rupert invites people so seldom that one forgets the joy of fresh conversation. We seem to say the same things over and over.”
    “Sir Rupert Sutcliffe is Helen and Meredith’s father,” David said, filling in the rest of the family tree.
    “Now what was this police business Helen hadn’t grasped?” Lady Pemberton asked. She might have been old and wrinkled, but she wasn’t forgetful.
    “We are investigators, Lady Pemberton,” I said. “For General Eisenhower. I used to be a detective, before the war.”
    “Goodness, Captain Boyle. The last time we had a police detective in the house was 1933—or was it 1932? When those jewels were stolen,” Lady Pemberton said. “I did not care for the experience.”
    “I don’t think Captain Boyle cares to hear about that,” Meredith said. “He’s our guest, after all.”
    “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Lady Pemberton said in a disapproving tone. “You too, Baron Kazimierz? A policeman?”
    “More like a spy, Lady Pemberton,” Kaz stage-whispered. “A continental man of mystery.” She liked that. I grinned in the direction of the others and noticed Helen. David was speaking to her, and she was casting her eyes everywhere but toward his. He was smiling, but she looked like she would burst into tears at any moment, her fist clenched white.
    “I understand it was a case that brought you to Devon,” Edgar said. “David said it was the only reason the baron could take the time to visit. Should we be worried about German agents lurking in the bushes?”
    “Nothing so dramatic, Mr. Shipton,” I said.
    “Please, call me Edgar,” he said. “We’re really quite informal here.”
    “Okay, Edgar, if you call me Billy.” Edgar was friendly enough, and chatting with him seemed less dangerous than jousting with the great aunt. “A body washed up on the beach in a restricted area. We’re trying to identify who it was. Nothing much to it,