Read Online Murders in the Blitz by Julia Underwood - Free Book Online

leapt to his feet when he became aware of Eve descending towards him.
    ‘Goodness, Borys, whatever is the matter?’
    The man wiped his face on his sleeve.
    ‘Zoya, my Zoya,’ he bellowed. ‘It is my fault she dead.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘She is having a baby; my baby. Miss Archer has told me. I have lost them both.’
    The huge man was engulfed in tears again. Eve felt the urge to stretch a comforting hand towards him, but suppressed the impulse. It crossed her mind that she hadn’t told Miss Archer about the baby. How did she know? Perhaps someone from the police station had been round. But that seemed unlikely as Eve was acting as liaison with the PRC. She would have to look into it.
    ‘I’m very sorry, Borys. I know it’s a terrible loss.’
    This doesn’t make sense, Eve thought. Borys can’t be Zoya’s boyfriend. He couldn’t possibly afford those expensive clothes. There must be someone else. Poor Borys, no wonder he was stricken with grief. He had lost Zoya to another man before she died. Perhaps the baby was not his. Or perhaps, and Eve regarded the tear-stained giant more closely, perhaps he was full of fierce jealousy and had killed her in a fury. He was certainly strong enough to have done it. These could be tears of remorse.
     
    Eve reported the lack of written evidence amongst Zoya’s possessions to the inspector.
    ‘But her collection of clothes is a treasure trove,’ she said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it outside the expensive shops. Someone’s been buying them for her.’
    The inspector was not surprised. He seemed to take it for granted that a lover would buy a girl costly underwear.
    ‘And I think you’re right, Miss Duncan. There should be something in writing. No young woman conducts an affair without keeping some billets doux. I’ll get someone to search for her bag and ID card. Though I expect it’s been pinched and sold by now. Some people are desperate for ID.’
    ‘There was nothing in the alley, sir. I had a butchers in the dustbin, but it was half full of rubbish – looked like pig swill, nothing else.’
    ‘Never mind, it may turn up. Meanwhile I suggest you go and ask that baker chap if Zoya talked to anyone in particular at work.’
    ‘Righto, sir.’
    As she left something was niggling at the back of her mind. There was something she wanted to ask Inspector Reed, but she couldn’t think what it was.
     
    Eve’s second visit to Drummond’s Bakery was fruitless except in one respect: Drummond himself was not there. Apparently it was his habit to go home in the late afternoon for a rest as he started work at some ungodly hour in the morning. A darkly handsome young man that reminded Eve of Charlie, though he looked rather more respectable, was cleaning the place up and preparing for the following day’s trade.
    ‘Hallo,’ said Eve. ‘I’m Eve Duncan. I’m helping the police with their enquiries into the death of Zoya. I believe you’ve been informed of her death.’
    The young man stopped sweeping and looked at Eve with a speculative grin; an expression she was familiar with. She hoped he wouldn’t try it on.
    ‘Hallo. Alfred Drummond. Yes, Dad told me about Zoya. It’s a damn nuisance, we really need help in the shop,’ then he realised what he was saying, ‘and it’s terrible for poor Zoya too, of course. Such a lovely kid. What can I do to help?’
    ‘Do you work here full time, Mr Drummond?’
    ‘No. I just come and help out in the late afternoons when there’s no-one else, and Dad’s resting. He got me in today now Zoya’s not here. I work in the munitions factory normally, out Slough way.’
    ‘You shouldn’t tell me that, I might be a spy.’ Eve softened the remark with a smile.
    ‘You don’t look like a spy, miss. Anyway, I shouldn’t think there’s many don’t know where the munitions factory is. So, what can I help you with?’
    ‘As you’re not here every day I don’t suppose you’ll know the answer to my