Commander Simon Burberry (or is it Mr. Silas Blade?) must take mysterious green capsules to reduce the trembling that besets him at odd moments. He is handsome, suave, speaks with a noble accent, is a fine woodworker and fabricator of wonderful, if large, puzzleboxes, but he appears to have people on his trail. Will Joseph Oliver Kuhl and Cousin Zachary Burnross unmask the stranger as a criminal, or will they become allies of an innocent Mr. Burberry on a dangerous quest?

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Here is a passage from The Burberry Style. Mr. Burberry has been on the road all day in his Aston-Martin. Seeking a resting place for the night, he has encountered Joseph Oliver Kuhl (who now describes the meeting):

   The English sort of mess up their pronunciation so you can't really hear what they're saying. "You got a first name, too?"
   "Just Burberry." He took off his hat very carefully, put it on the corner of my desk, smoothed his black hair down with his palms. He removed his shades and stuffed them inside his coat.
   "Just Burble. Now there's an interesting name. Maybe short for Justice, I guess. So, Just, how come you picked on Balona to hang out in?"
   Squinted eyes, suspicious look. "Why do you inquire?"
   "Interested in newcomers since I write a sort of column for the paper once and a while and could use some copy."
   "I am not seeking 'copy,' dear boy. In fact, I would prefer no attention be paid me at all."
   "How so's that?"
   "I'm working under cover."
   "All right! You're FBI. No, NSA. No, CIA."
   "MI-6"
   "Wow! All right!" I happened to know already that MI-6 is British Secret Service.
   Eyebrow up, steel-gray eyes narrowed. "You know MI-6?"
   "Sure, I intend to join up over there myself, soon as I get my diploma, my certificate from C4. That's Chaud County Community College."
   "Oh, yes?" There's a twitching at the left-hand corner of Mr. Burble's mustache, a growth sort of like Saddam Hussein's of TV fame.
   "Criminal Justice, Just." I smirked at the confluence of names, also pleased at last to find a use, even interminably, for one of Doctor Fardel's usually useless vocabulary words like confluence.
   "I see. Well, refer to me simply as Mr. Burberry, if you please." Mr. Burberry was lost in thought for a few seconds, looking at the ceiling. "Or you might address me as Commander Burberry when we're alone." He raised both eyebrows, put a mean look on his face.
   The English are so formal, getting pissed-off right away about calling them by their first name. The way he said stuff sounded suave, though, even though most of it came through his nose. I think I will try the accent out on Patella and Millie and maybe Willow. See what they think before I adopt it as my style.       Burberry Style

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