James Benn - The Rest Is Silence

We pulled to a stop in front of Ashcroft House. Big Mike whistled in amazement as he got out of the other jeep.

“This is where you guys have been shacking up? Not bad,” he said.

“Wait until you meet the family,” I said, stretching after the jeep ride. “How should we handle this?” I asked Kaz.

“Meredith, first,” Kaz said. “She seems to be in charge now. Then a courtesy call upon Lady Pemberton.” I was about to ask Kaz to brief Big Mike on how to act around Great Aunt Sylvia when voices rose from around the side of the house. Angry voices.

“Who’s that?” I said.

“David, perhaps,” Kaz said. It was two men, arguing. David and Edgar? I doubted Edgar would get that worked up over anything. “Wait here,” Kaz said, obviously worried about his friend, but not wanting to embarrass him with a whole posse. As soon as Kaz turned the corner, the voices dropped off. In a minute, he was back with David and Crawford, who sported a dark scowl.

“Crawford will deliver the supplies to the kitchen,” David said to Kaz, studiously avoiding speaking to or looking at Crawford, who bent to the task and left with an armload. Kaz introduced him to Big Mike, who gave David a casual, “How ya doin’? Nice place.” If I hadn’t been watching for it, I would have missed Big Mike’s eyes lingering on the burned face, studying the taut, shiny skin.

“Not mine, I’m afraid. Not really sure who holds the title, not yet anyway. Come inside, we’ll find Meredith. Helen will defer to her in any case; she always does. I am sure we’ll be happy to have another guest, these delicacies notwithstanding.”

Helen was nowhere to be seen, but we found Meredith in Sir Rupert’s study. Or his former study. She was in the classic bill payer’s pose, a mass of envelopes and invoices on the desk next to an open checkbook.

“Sorry to interrupt, Meredith,” David said. “It seems we’re being asked to do our bit for the war effort and house a colleague of the baron’s for a few days. This is Sergeant … er, how do you pronounce that name again?” David gave Big Mike an apologetic look.

“Staff Sergeant Mike Miecznikowski, ma’am,” Big Mike said, stepping forward and offering his huge hand. “People call me Big Mike, though.”

“I can see why,” Meredith said, tossing down her pen and accepting the shake, her delicate hand disappearing into Big Mike’s grip. “What exactly can we do for you?”

“It’s got something to do with that ship being sunk,” David said. Kaz and I exchanged a quick glance. Had news traveled that fast? “The sergeant works with Billy and the baron, and they all need to stay on a few more days.”

“Of course, we shall be glad to help in our small way,” Meredith said, smiling as she rose from her chair. “Welcome to Ashcroft House, Sergeant. David, could you show our guest to his room? Will you all be staying for luncheon?”

“No, we need to get going,” I said. “Thanks very much. I hope this is not an imposition, considering all you’ve been through.” For a dame who was on the outs with her father when he died, Meredith fit into the role of Ashcroft’s head honcho easily enough.

“Not at all, Captain,” she said. “I for one am glad of the distraction. We can’t seem to get a straight answer from father’s solicitor about the estate, and meanwhile, we have creditors whose patience seems to be running out. I’m sending each a small amount from our funds and a note explaining the situation.” She shook her head, as if clearing away cobwebs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be boring you with our troubles, should I? I’ll ask Mrs. Dudley to make some sandwiches for you to take.”

“Take a look at what they’ve brought us, while you’re at it,” David said. “Food and drink of the gods.”

“We’ll need to be sure Edgar doesn’t keep the drink to himself,” she said, leaving the room.

“Very kind of Meredith to be so accommodating,” I said to David as he escorted Big Mike to his room. “She seems different now that her father’s gone.”

“Yes, she does,” David agreed. “Odd duck, our Meredith. Here you go, Big Mike,” he said, opening the door to a room next to mine.

“How did you hear about a ship being sunk?” I asked as we waited for Big Mike to stow his bag.

“From Crawford,” he said. “He mentioned that you and Piotr went out early after receiving a call, something to do with a German attack on a convoy, I think. He was going to go out fishing and telephoned a friend of his on a shore battery to find out if it was safe.”

“Yeah,” I said, remembering the snatch of pre-dawn conversation. “A cousin, I think.”

“That’s right,” David said as Big Mike shut his door behind him. “I assumed that was still your assignment. All right, let’s get those sandwiches organized. So sorry Helen isn’t about to meet our new guest. She hasn’t been herself lately. I think her father’s death has had more of an effect on her than she let on.” I followed as David led us downstairs, not wanting to stick my nose in and ask what he and Crawford had been arguing about. Besides, Kaz would do that in his own way.

In the kitchen Williams and Mrs. Dudley were ohhh ing and ahhh ing over the rations we’d brought along. Meredith and Edgar were there, too, along with Crawford, who was leaning against a counter smoking a cigarette, having already opened the carton of Chesterfields.

“Sugar!” Mrs. Dudley said, feeling the heft of the package. “I haven’t seen this much sugar since before the war. Thank you, gentlemen. Oh, I must finish packing your lunch!” She scurried off, wiping her hands on her apron.

“It wasn’t necessary, Baron Kazimierz,” Meredith said. “But it is appreciated.” It was funny how people in this house usually addressed such comments to Kaz exclusively. Their types much preferred talking to a baron over a mere American captain. Hey, who could blame them? Kaz would always be a baron, but when this war was over, I’d be a cop again, relegated to the back door of any place as fancy as this on Beacon Hill. Still, Meredith had treated Big Mike nicely, reserving her cutting remarks for her own husband, and that had to count for something. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Edgar inspect the Scotch as Meredith supervised the stocking of the larder.

“Let’s leave that for drinks tonight, shall we?” she said, a disapproving eyebrow raised in her husband’s direction.

“I’ll take the bottles to the library,” Edgar said, not exactly agreeing or disagreeing.

“Have you seen Helen?” David asked, pulling Meredith’s attention away from Edgar, who was walking away from her, bottles clinking in his hands.

“She went out for some air,” Meredith said. “She mentioned something about creditors upsetting her. Well, that’s what they do, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure it will all turn out fine in the end,” David said, directing a reassuring smile at Williams and Crawford. No reason to let the help know about financial problems, even in such a progressive house as Ashcroft, I figured.

“Have you set a date for the funeral?” Kaz asked. “We would like to attend, duties permitting.”

“In two days,” Meredith said. “Thank you. That is most kind. I know Father enjoyed your company, as well as yours, Captain Boyle. I do hope you can be there.”

“Don’t worry about that, ma’am,” Big Mike said. “You tell us where and when, and I’ll make sure they get there on time.”

“How nice of you, Sergeant,” Meredith said. “Ten o’clock, St. Peter’s in North Cornworthy. It’s the only church in the village. We’re very C of E around here. Church of England, I mean,” she added for benefit of us outsiders.