James Benn - The Rest Is Silence

“It was the Counter-Intelligence Corps,” I said. “I bet once all ten BIGOTs were found, CIC gave the order to make all the other clearing stations disappear too. Our services were no longer required.” I took a long pull on the ale.

“Harding was not happy about it,” Kaz said. “He told us to find out whatever we could about how Lieutenant Wiley got aboard one of the ships. But how do you know CIC is involved?”

“I tracked down Dawes and found CIC questioning him. He’d snatched Wiley’s body for an autopsy, and the agents didn’t appreciate coming up one stiff short.”

“That mean trouble for Dawes?” Big Mike asked.

“He’s getting an all-expenses-paid trip to Cairo,” I said. “He gets to see the pyramids.”

“Some guys have all the luck,” Big Mike said with a rueful laugh. “Did he do the autopsy?”

“Yeah. The CIC special agent let me talk with him before they hustled him away.” I stopped, listening to a sound in the hallway. I slipped off the bed and put my ear against the door. Someone was out there. I turned the knob slowly and opened the door, swiveling my head in either direction. I heard footsteps, perhaps in another room.

“Who was it?” Kaz asked after I shut the door.

“Don’t know,” I said. “It could have been anyone. Maybe Alice doing her chores.”

“Hey, don’t leave us hanging,” Big Mike said.

“Okay,” I said, taking a swig of the cool, sharp ale. “Here’s what I know for certain. Peter Wiley had a bruise on his head, but nothing that would have killed him. He was dead before he went into the water. His blood had pooled on his backside, so he was flat on his back long enough for lividity to have set in.”

“Did Dawes have a cause of death?” Kaz asked.

“A theory,” I said. “But not a certainty. Have either of you heard of the Burke and Hare murders?”

“Edinburgh, was it not?” Kaz asked. Of course Kaz would know. Big Mike hadn’t heard of them. I gave him a quick rundown.

“So instead of digging up corpses, they killed outright,” Big Mike said. “More efficient, you gotta admit.”

“Dawes said that Wiley sustained injuries to his ribs consistent with Burke’s method. Compress the chest, close off the air supply.”

“Perhaps Peter was knocked unconscious, hence the bruise,” Kaz said.

“Likely,” I said. “But we can’t prove anything. He could have gotten broken ribs from going into the water. And no water in the lungs does not rule out drowning, which I hadn’t known.”

“But we know he didn’t drown,” Kaz said. “Because of the lividity. He must have been killed on board the transport.”

“Stick to the facts,” I said. “We don’t even know for certain if he was on a ship, much less which one.”

“It seems obvious,” Kaz said. “You don’t know for certain that Big Mike drove his jeep here. However, you saw the jeep when you arrived, and here is Big Mike. Rather apparent how he arrived.”

“Yes, given that he’s not an inanimate corpse, I agree,” I said, feeling a bit like Sherlock Holmes himself. “But if Big Mike were found dead, we might be curious as to whether he was killed here, or elsewhere and then driven here.”

“All right,” Kaz said, “I give up. We need to establish which transport Peter Wiley was on.”

“Or failing that, how he got into the water,” I said. “What was the name of the officer Harding told us to check with? The one responsible for keeping the manifest for all observers.”

“Lieutenant James Siebert,” Big Mike said. “At Greenway House.”

“Okay, we see him in the morning. After the reading of the will.”

“I doubt we’re invited, Billy,” Kaz said.

“That’s what keyholes were made for,” I said. “Anyway, I doubt it will take long for word to get out. Just watch Meredith.”

“Surely you are not pursuing the issue of Peter Wiley’s paternity,” Kaz said. “It hardly matters. The two persons involved are both dead.”

“I’m taking a lesson from Sherlock Holmes,” I said. “Never theorize before you have data. That causes you to twist facts to suit theories, instead of the other way around.”

“Ah,” Kaz said. “Since we have no absolute proof that his paternity does not matter, we should not discount it.”

“Right,” I said. “Which is why I’m curious about it.”

“And all along I thought you were a plain garden-variety snoop,” Big Mike said.

“Gossips, eavesdroppers, and snoops are all the same,” I said. “We need to know what the hell is going on.”

“David did tell me the solicitor is coming here at ten o’clock tomorrow,” Kaz said. “I will ask him if we can sit in. He can always say no.”

“Count me out,” Big Mike said. “I’m the new guy in town. But you two, maybe they’ll buy it.”

“Can’t hurt to try,” I said. “How was David this afternoon? He seemed chipper when he came in.”

“Much better,” Kaz said. “Mainly embarrassed, I think. You know the English and their stiff upper lips.”

“Speaking of stiffs,” Big Mike said, “when are you going to tell these people Wiley is dead?”

“Let’s break the news at dinner,” I said. “I doubt anybody will keel over, but I’ll be interested to see if anyone looks relieved.” I drained the last of my beer and wondered what I was missing. “How’s Great Aunt Sylvia? She didn’t look well earlier.”

“A little better, I think,” Kaz said. “When I checked in on her she seemed coherent. She hoped to come down for dinner.” I heard a noise in the hallway again and motioned for Kaz to keep talking. As he went on about Lady Pemberton, I went over to the door and listened. I could have sworn I heard someone breathing. I put my hand on the knob and turned it slowly, hoping not to spook whoever was out there.

The hallway was empty, the echo of footsteps fading in another part of the house.

“I guess I’m hearing things,” I said, shaking my head in frustration.

“Just as long as you don’t start seeing them too,” Big Mike said.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Great Aunt Sylvia said when we gathered for drinks before dinner a few hours later. “I can’t quite recall the past few days. It was terribly confusing.”

“I’m glad to see you up and about,” I said, sharing the couch in the library with her.

“I do not mind saying, Billy, that I was a bit worried,” she whispered to me. “I must have had a fever and been a bit delirious. But I think I’ve snapped out of it. I was still a bit groggy earlier today, but I feel much better now. I am grateful to have a clear head for a change.”

“Maybe it was a side effect of some medication,” I offered.

“Medication? I haven’t been ill a day in my life, young man, and I am not about to let a doctor fill me with drugs now. That is not how I got to this age, I can tell you that.”

“Sherry, Great Aunt Sylvia?” Edgar asked. She nodded, and he filled a dainty glass.

“I wonder if they’re waiting for me to die too,” she said as soon as Edgar was out of earshot. “Then they can sell Ashcroft and be done with it. Get their flats in London or wherever is fashionable these days.”

“Ashcroft House would be a poorer place without you, Lady Pemberton,” I said.

“You Irish have a way with flattery, don’t you? How much longer will you be with us, Billy? I shall miss our talks when you’ve gone.”

“Perhaps a day or two more, ma’am. We’ve taken care of most of our business here, but we still have one matter to clear up. It’s been very kind of everyone to let us stay on.”

“Well, the baron is David’s friend, and nobility of a sort. One doesn’t deny the aristocracy, even Polish aristocracy. But I must say, I am surprised-but not disappointed-at Meredith’s hospitality. It was her, you know, who insisted you all stay on as long as necessary.”