The Rest is Silence (Billy Boyle World War II Mystery) (39 page)

As we wound our way into Dartmouth through streets choked with bicycles, sailors, military vehicles, and GIs searching for girls, Kaz and I talked about the ring and the likelihood of its simply having been purloined by any of the soldiers or civilians recovering bodies. It wouldn’t be the first time greed won out over decency. But I was coming around to the notion that it was somewhere in Ashcroft House, hidden by one of its denizens.

“Why?” Kaz asked when I spoke of my hunch.

“Because of everything Mrs. Mallowan said. Meredith keeping the letter all those years. Helen suddenly getting lovey with David.”

“You are suspicious because a wife treats her wounded husband well?”

“No, I’m suspicious because her behavior changed,” I said. “I think
Meredith is up to no good, and Helen is going along with it. That’s why she’s leaning on David; she knows she’s wrong and wants some comfort from him. I don’t think she’s made of the same stuff as Meredith.” I pulled over near the docks, where the grey warships and transports were lined up like a wall of steel.

“Do you think David is involved in Peter Wiley’s death?” Kaz asked, his voice low and his eyes drilling into mine.

“No,” I said, after a few seconds. “It doesn’t add up. He did drop the idea of going back on active service pretty quickly, but that could well be because he saw a future for himself at Ashcroft.”

“Remember, he was turned down by Harding at Greenway House,” Kaz said. “He didn’t give up, necessarily.”

“No, but he didn’t seem disappointed, did he? We both expected him to take it hard.” We got out of the jeep and walked to the embankment, looking for LST 289, where Major McClure was running his investigation. Sections of wharf ran out into the harbor, some long and wide enough for trucks to offload supplies and men. Others were smaller, with destroyers, Motor Torpedo Boats, and other craft tied up alongside. The tide was out, and the smell of rotting fish wafted up from the muddy flats.

“No,” Kaz said. “I must admit I was surprised by his behavior before the reading of the will. Helen could have been left nothing at all. It would have been very English of Sir Rupert to leave everything to the nearest male blood relative, no matter how distant.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” I said, then pointed to LST 289. It was easy to spot, with its battle-damaged, blackened hull and the bright pinpoints of light as welders worked the steel. The mooring next to the 289 was empty, and three English kids, maybe ten or eleven years old, ran along the water’s edge and climbed up a wooden ladder on the wharf, freezing when they saw us approaching. They were carrying all manner of muddy debris that had washed up at high tide, and by their wide-eyed looks I guessed they’d been chased out of here before.

They were about to turn and bolt when I saw what one of them had slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, wait, want a Hershey bar?” I yelled. They put on the brakes.

“Do you have a Hershey bar?” Kaz asked. He had a point.

“What do we have to do, Yank?” The oldest one came forward, sizing us up. “And there’s three of us. We’d need three bars, wouldn’t we?”

“Tell you what, kid,” I said, fishing the coins out of my pocket and nodding to Kaz, who added his own loose change. “You can have this and buy whatever you want. It’s a few shillings, at least.”

“Give it here then,” he said, holding out his hand. All of them had muddy feet but seemed decently dressed otherwise. Schoolkids, I figured, looking to scrounge what they could from the docks. I flipped the oldest kid one coin.

“The rest after you tell me what you’ve got there, and what else you’ve come up with,” I said.

“You can’t make us give it back,” one of the younger ones said. “It’s stuff you Yanks throw away.”

“Overboard’s more like it,” the other said, and they all laughed. “You lot do toss a lot of good gear, you know.”

“I don’t want anything back,” I said. “And you’re not in trouble. Finders keepers, I say.”

“All right then,” the oldest said. “I got this here canteen and web belt. It’s empty, so it floated. And a denim shirt, hardly a rip in it. Needs a good washing is all.”

“I got K-Rations,” another said. “They were in a big wooden crate, four packs of them. Came in on the tide, and I seen plenty of Yanks walk right by, not even give ’em a look. My old man might be able to dry out the cigarettes, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” I said. “What about you?” I asked the smallest boy.

“I got this,” he said. “A life jacket. Might be able to sell it to a fisherman. I found a bottle of Scotch once, still half full. Dad liked that, he did.”

“How much do you think you can get?” I asked. The life jacket was sodden and grimy, but
US NAVY
was clearly stenciled along the collar.

“Not much. They come in on the tide often enough. You Yanks are a careless lot, ain’t ya?”

“Yeah, but we’re no fools,” I said, handing over the coins. “Now
beat it.” They didn’t need to be told twice, disappearing into a side street in a flash, their laughter and shrieks of joy bouncing off the walls.

“Well, what was that about?” Kaz asked.

“Solving a murder, I think. The hell with Major McClure. Let’s go to Ashcroft House and grab our gear. We’re bunking somewhere else tonight.”

Kaz was full of questions, but I was still putting pieces together in my mind, and I begged him to let me think in silence. It was the little inconsistencies that were beginning to come together, just as Mrs. Mallowan had predicted. They weren’t all in place yet, but I was starting to see where they rubbed up against the truth. We arrived at Ashcroft House and saw Meredith walking from the gardens, a basket of cut flowers in her hand. Already the matron of the manor.

“Baron, Captain,” she said, walking briskly our way. “I’m glad to see you. I wonder if you’d think it terribly rude of me to ask how much longer you planned to stay with us? After everything that’s happened, I think the family needs some privacy to get used to the new situation here. I’m sure you understand?” I did. It was the polite, English version of
get the hell out
.

“Your hospitality has been most appreciated,” I said. “Actually, we’ve received new orders, and I hoped to find you all here to make our apologies for a sudden departure. So it works out for all concerned.”

“You can’t stay for dinner then? It would be so nice to have a farewell meal together.”

“Sadly, no,” Kaz said. “We have pressing business to attend to. Is David here? I would like to say goodbye.”

“Yes. He was reading in the library when I came out,” Meredith said, the relief evident in her eyes. The dinner invitation was as sincere as her line that the family needed privacy. “I must get these flowers inside, so I shall say farewell now. Please do come again, Baron Kazimierz. Your visit did David a world of good, I’m sure.” With that, she trotted off, the cut flowers bouncing in her basket.

“Is there anything you want me to ask David?” Kaz said.

“Yes,” I said. “Ask him if he’s heard if there were any other letters from America that Meredith or Helen kept. Then tell him we have a
suspect in Peter Wiley’s death. Go down to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Dudley or Williams the same.”

“So that word spreads?” Kaz asked. I nodded. He was getting the hang of this. I went upstairs to speak with Great Aunt Sylvia, hoping to find her awake and alert. I knocked and found her seated at the window, reading an Agatha Christie mystery. I had to smile.

“Billy, come in,” she said, closing the book. Mrs. Mallowan looked up at me from the back cover. I told Great Aunt Sylvia we had to depart.

“I am sorry you must leave us. I would have liked a visit with less death and distress, but even so I’ve enjoyed your company,” she said.

“Same here,” I said, shutting the door behind me.

She gave me a look that said she understood this wasn’t only a social call. “The time has come to talk of many things, of shoes and ships and sealing wax,” she said, a smile forming on her face.

“And cabbages and kings,” I added.

“I loved
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
as a young girl,” she said. “I still have my childhood copy. I devoured
Through the Looking Glass
as well, and I remember both fondly. Odd, at my age, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “It’s a link to the past. I’d bet the past is almost as important to you as the future.”

“Be blunt, will you? I might not have that much future left in me.”

“I think—no, I know—that you are holding something back from me. About Meredith and Sir Rupert. About Peter Wiley.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To make sure I don’t see what’s on the other side of the looking glass,” I said.

“Well, if I am keeping family secrets, why should I reveal anything to you now, when you are about to take your leave of us?” She tilted her head back, every inch the injured aristocrat.

“Because we have a suspect in Peter Wiley’s death. If his killing has anything to do with a family member, it would be best if it came out now. If Inspector Grange finds out later, it could be quite a public scandal.”

“I thought Peter was killed by the Germans,” Lady Pemberton said.

“That’s because you haven’t looked behind my looking glass,” I said. “When Alice stepped through the mirror, didn’t she find a book that you could only read by holding it up to a mirror? That’s what a murder investigation is like. Once you’ve put all the pieces together, sometimes all you need to do is look at them a bit differently and they make perfect sense.” I was spinning a tall tale of certainty with damn few facts to support it, but that’s what interrogations are all about.

Confusion passed across her face as she calculated what to say. That told me there really was a secret. “I knew Meredith had the letter,” she said, her bony hands clutching the spine of the book.

“Of course you did,” I said. “You see everything that goes on here. Did Meredith come to you when she intercepted the letter? Had she been confiding in you before then?”

“Yes, ever since she spied her father and that woman kissing in the garden. You see, she idolized him. But that moment changed everything. She went from a delightful young girl to a devil of a daughter. At least to Rupert. She transferred her mighty allegiance to her mother, and from that day on, it was war. But I fail to see what this has to do with Peter Wiley.”

“Maybe nothing,” I said. “Do you have any idea why she kept the letter for all these years?”

“She liked to taunt Rupert about it. She told him he’d never hear from Julia Greenshaw again. Needless to say, that’s one reason why she left, and perhaps why she was not mentioned in the will.”

“If she took her mother’s side in all this, why didn’t Louise Pemberton leave Ashcroft House to Meredith and Helen instead of her husband? Wouldn’t Louise reward such loyalty?”

“She intended to,” Great Aunt Sylvia said. “In fact she promised Meredith she would. That was when they were in India. But the illness came on quickly, and when she died, she had not changed her will. I understand she had written to Farnsworth, our family solicitor, saying that she wanted a new document drafted. If he sent her one, it did not come in time. Her previous will stood, in which she left everything to her husband. Written in the flush of romance, I suspect.”

“Meredith must have been unhappy with that,” I said.

“Oh, she was. Meredith accused her father of destroying the new will so he would inherit Ashcroft. He denied it, of course, but that was the final break between them.”

“Then she stole some jewelry and went to London,” I said.

“The ring was missing, but that has been explained by recent events. She did take a few other old pieces, probably enough to sell and get herself set up properly. Nothing of sentimental value. I never begrudged her that much.”

“So she and Helen were both here because of their husbands,” I said. “Looking for help.”

“Essentially, yes. I had also written to both of them, saying that their father was quite ill. Rupert had confided in me a month ago that the doctors were very concerned about his heart. Actually, this was the second time Meredith had asked Rupert for help. She must have choked on her words. The previous time, after the birth of their first child, it was to secure a position for Edgar in the Indian Civil Service. Rupert obliged, and we know what a hash Edgar made of that.”

“Some might say he did the honorable thing,” I said.

“Perhaps, but it is hardly honorable to come back a second time to ask for help again. But they were desperate. No prospects, a dwindling bank account, persona non grata at the Foreign Office. It made for an awful scene when they first arrived.”

“But he didn’t throw them out,” I said.

“No, not with Helen and David coming as well. I think Rupert knew these were his last days, and even with all the enmity between them, he did find some solace in family.”

“And then Peter Wiley walks through the door,” I said.

“Yes.”

“It must have driven Meredith crazy,” I said.

“That is a bit of an exaggeration,” Lady Pemberton said. “But she obviously was not pleased. The only good thing for her was that it proved that she had not stolen the ring.”

“But Sir Rupert would have known that all along,” I said.

“I imagine so. But he couldn’t let on, could he? Louise claimed she
had lost the ring, perhaps to protect herself from learning the truth. She defended Meredith against the accusations, telling Rupert her daughter would never steal from her. But still, what does all this have to do with the death of poor Peter?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I do know you saw something, probably early in the morning after Sir Rupert’s death. From this very window.”

“No!” Lady Pemberton said, rising from her seat, the book tumbling to the floor. “Now let us put an end to this. It is high time you left.”

I rose and took her hand. “I’m sorry if I caused you distress, Lady Pemberton. I am sure we’ll meet again. Soon.”

I went to my room and packed up my duffle bag. Kaz and David were in Big Mike’s room putting his gear together, and we walked downstairs together.

“I hope you’ll visit again, Piotr,” David said. “You too, Billy. Although it seems big things are coming soon. The generals will want to be in France before the summer. Can’t be too long now.”