Billy Boyle (Billy Boyle World War II, #1)

by James R. Benn

“Well, if I’m going to call you Billy, you must call me Victoria. But not Vicky. Only Richard calls me that.” I looked up on the wall behind her at the framed photo of a young man in an RAF uniform. He stood next to a bomber, a wide smile on his face, the RAF roundel showing in back of him. Both man and machine long gone. “Victoria, I don’t mean to pry into your private life, and I want you to know that I’m not compiling a written report or anything . . .” “My goodness, Billy, whatever are you going to ask me about?” “I understand that you were in Jens Iversen’s room early, very early in the morning on the day Knut Birkeland died.” She nodded. “Yes, I was.” Calm and cool. No embarrassment, no anger at the question. “And he escorted you from his room back to your room?” “Part of the way. He didn’t want to be seen, so he took me down his hallway, down the staircase, and then turned back.” “I should tell you, Victoria, that Jens didn’t tell me your name. I wouldn’t want you to think he betrayed your confidence.” “Why would I care what that little worm thinks?” Whoa. That took me by surprise. I had thought they had a hot romance going. How did Jens get to be “that little worm”?