Murders in the Blitz (9 page)
Eve and Borys walked into the stricken road with broken bricks crunching beneath their feet. A salvage crew was already clearing the street and helping the owners of the houses to rescue what that could from the wreckage of their homes.
‘Was anyone killed?’ asked Eve.
‘No, love, they was lucky, they’d all gone down the shelter.’
Not really lucky thought Eve, gazing at the ruined homes, with all their possessions and memories destroyed. She turned towards Borys, who was patiently waiting beside her.
‘What did you want, Borys? Tearing after me like that.’
‘You come back to Polish house with me, miss. We have something to show you.’
Eve could not help but agree. But it was quite a walk back to the PRC, especially on wobbly legs. Eve was astonished at how far from the Green she had run with Borys in pursuit. It showed what lengths fear could drive you to. When they arrived at the Centre Borys led her to the kitchen where Anna and Sonya were seated at the table in urgent debate with Katya. Spread out before them were several documents and what looked like a wash bag. They looked relieved when Eve and Borys walked in, and they began to gabble.
Eve held up a hand. ‘Ho, stop! I can’t understand a word you’re saying. One at a time, in English. Tell me what this is all about.’
Katya looked up. ‘The girls have found Zoya’s journal and some letters.’
Eve sat on one of the chairs and eagerly pulled the documents towards her.
‘This is wonderful. Where did you find it?’
Sonya blushed and looked sheepish. ‘I so wanted to try on Zoya’s dress,’ she said. ‘I found the bag pinned to the inside, under the petticoat.’
‘How stupid of me,’ said Eve. ‘I never thought to look underneath. Have you read these? What do they say?’
Eve picked a letter from the heap. It was headed with an insignia very similar to that she had seen on Simon Parkes’s cigarette case; the flying eagle and the initials P.J. She still had not found out what it meant. The letter was addressed to him at the PRC. Pinned to it was typed copy of what must have been his reply.
‘We cannot quite understand what is written here,’ said Katya. ‘But it seems to be about the Americans being in the war and something called the Right Club.’
Eve had heard of the Right Club. The wing of the British Fascists had been lead by a Member of Parliament, Archibald Ramsey, and had many aristocratic followers. Ramsey was an associate of Oswald Moseley, the most famous British fascist. MI5 had sought them out and disbanded the Club in May.
‘But I thought they were all imprisoned, after Mr Churchill won the election. That was when William Joyce, Lord Haw Haw, fled to Germany and started broadcasting defeatist rubbish. I thought they’d closed them down. This must be a new bunch of fascist Fifth Columnists.’
‘Maybe not all are in prison,’ suggested Borys.
‘That’s what it looks like,’ said Eve. ‘Let’s have a look.’
She read the letter slowly, trying to make sense of it. It was couched in strange, belligerent language and ranted about keeping the Americans out of the war at all costs, so that Britain’s defeat was inevitable. Just like the rubbish Simon was spouting the other night. It sounded obsessed and deluded and constantly mentioned something called the International Jewish Conspiracy. In the copy letter Simon Parkes pledged his allegiance to the cause and told of his plans to discredit the Churchill government in the eyes of the Americans.
Eve took Zoya’s journal and started to read. What she saw on those pages made everything clear. Zoya had been going out with Simon when she realised that he was a traitor. She had found the evidence against him and was going to take it to the authorities. There the diary entries ended.
Appalled, Eve stood up and gathered the papers and stuffed them into her handbag. ‘I’ve got to take this to the police. I’ll be back later. Is Parkes here? I don’t want to run into him.’
‘No, he went out this morning. Probably gloating over the bombing with his friends,’ said Katya.
Eve hurried across the Green towards the police station and then remembered that she wanted to see Mr Weissmann first. She made a detour down the side street. The bell on the pawnbroker’s shop door rang as she entered. Mr Weissmann was seated in his usual place, sorting stock. He looked up as she entered, but without his habitual smile.
‘Ah, Miss Duncan, at last. I urgently need to speak to you. Tell me, where did you say you saw that emblem that you drew for me?’
‘On the cigarette case belonging to Major Simon Parkes, the officer in charge of the Polish refugee centre on the Green.’
‘This man is dangerous. He is a Fascist and probably a traitor as well. You must stay away from him.’
‘What does the engraving mean, Mr Weissmann?’
‘The flying eagle with a staff in its talons represents the Right Club, a far right fascist group that I thought was defunct. The initials P.J. are the most chilling. They stand for “Perish Juda”, the watchword of Fascists, who believe in the International Jewish Conspiracy. They see Jews as the root of all evil and mean to wipe them from the earth.’
‘My God! That’s terrible. I know he wants to stop the Americans from coming into the war, but I didn’t realise he had other aims. If the Germans win, and occupy Britain, they will try to wipe out Jews here.’
‘They certainly will, Miss Duncan. There will be no sanctuary.’
‘I must get to the police straight away. I think I’ve got enough to get him arrested for being a fascist, even if I can’t hang the murder on him.’
‘What murder?’
‘Oh, a young woman he knew was strangled. I’m now almost certain it was he who did it. But it’s going to be difficult to prove.’
Eve thanked Mr Weissmann for his help and left the shop. As she stepped into the street she was horrified to see a familiar handsome figure coming towards her. His face wreathed in smiles, Simon grabbed her by the arm.
‘I think we should go and have a nice drink, don’t you, Miss Duncan?’
Eve was tempted to wrench her arm from his determined grasp, but somehow managed to remain calm. She was terrified that he would discover the papers she was carrying, but realised that he could have no idea of what was in her bag. She casually slipped the strap of her handbag over her shoulder and held it firmly.
‘That would be lovely, Simon. Can we do it later? I’ve got rather a lot on this morning.’
‘No, I think now would be a good time, don’t you. After all, it is nearly lunchtime.’
Simon’s easy charm appeared unabated, but Eve recognised something sinister in his deep blue eyes, a fanaticism that she had not noticed before, and certainly a determination to get his own way.
‘Oh, all right then. I don’t suppose there’s anything that can’t wait until after lunch.’
Simon led her to the bar they had been to before and bought her a drink without asking what she wanted.
‘How’s your little murder mystery going?’ he asked. ‘Surely you must have found the culprit by now.’
‘It’s only been a week, Simon. Anyway, I think we’re making progress. Inspector Reed is confident that he’ll be making an arrest very soon.’
‘Really?’ Simon’s eyebrows rose sceptically and a tiny smile curved his lips.
He’s a smug bastard, thought Eve. He thinks no-one could possibly be on to him. I’ve got to get away as soon as possible to speak to the Inspector.
‘Oh, yes, some very important evidence has turned up. It won’t be long now.’
Eve watched him carefully. He didn’t seem to be in the least fazed by this revelation, which told her that he had no inkling of the evidence that Zoya had hidden. Of course that didn’t prove that he killed the girl, but he certainly had a motive for it if he knew that she intended to expose him. For all she knew he might have been frantically searching for the incriminating documents and had not thought to look amongst Zoya’s clothes. The girls were probably always in the room, making a hunt impossible.
She watched with a shudder as he helped himself to a cigarette from the case with the fascist emblem and smoked it with casual ease.
‘You’re bright little thing, aren’t you, Eve Duncan? I wouldn’t get too clever if I were you. You never know where it might end up.’
Eve looked at him blankly. Was that some kind of a threat?
‘I can’t think what you mean, Simon. I’ve never done this detecting business before; I’m just an amateur really. But the police know what they’re doing. They’ll get to the bottom of it.’
Simon stood up abruptly and made to leave even though Eve had not quite finished her glass.
‘Time to go. I’ve got things to do as well. You’re welcome to come to the Centre if you like,’ he said offhandedly.
‘No thanks. I’ll be off.’ Eve threw back the last of her gin and It and followed him from the bar.
She watched as he headed back to the Green. Such a handsome British army officer, the epitome of English manhood. It was hard to believe that he was a traitor and a murderer, all she had to do was to prove it.
Eve was sitting in Inspector Reed’s office and a Sergeant was taking notes. She had explained everything she knew about Simon Parkes and handed over Zoya’s journal and the Right Club correspondence that the Polish girls had given her.
‘Well done, Miss Duncan, I knew there must be some written evidence somewhere.’
‘It wasn’t really me, sir, the girls found the papers in Zoya’s dress,’ said Eve.
‘Nonetheless, they wouldn’t have know what it was if you hadn’t alerted them. No, you must take credit for this.’
‘What should I do now, sir?’
‘Well, we’ve certainly got enough to arrest him for, for being a member of the Right Club and a traitor. You and Miss Archer are both witness to that. But I’d really like to get him on the murder as well. We don’t have much time. If he gets an inkling that we have something on him he may turn and scarper; escape to France like William Joyce before him. I don’t want that to happen.’
‘I don’t know how to prove that he murdered Zoya, sir. We’ve got a motive and I’m sure he’s had the training necessary to carry out the deed so cleanly, but where’s the evidence?’
‘I’m hoping that if we can get him cornered he’ll give himself away. This is where you come in, Eve.’
Oh no. The use of her first name alerted Eve to the fact that Inspector Reed wanted her to do something unpleasant. She dreaded his next words.
‘I know you may not like this,’ he said, as if reading her thoughts, ‘but I need you to get close to him, butter him up and try to get a confession out of him.’
Easier said than done, thought Eve. She shuddered. Her initial attraction to Major Parkes had evaporated and she now despised him for the treacherous killer that he was. Even so, she could see that something had to be done to collar him for Zoya’s murder. She had always been determined to catch the killer and this was her last chance before he realised he’d been found out and disappeared. She was sure his friends in the Fascist club would help him. There was nothing for it. She would have to go and find out one way or the other.
‘Very well, sir.’ she said to the inspector. ‘He invited me to the PRC, I’ll go and see him.’
‘Thank you, Eve, much appreciated. I’ll get some men to watch the building, and inside if possible. Don’t worry; you won’t be alone. Just yell and you’ll be rescued.’
Eve wished she had his confidence that she was in no danger. Maybe Mum was right. As she remembered from Zoya’s post mortem, Major Parkes was very skilled as a swift dealer of death. She just hoped she could keep out of reach of his grasp long enough to get an admission from him.
She first went home and changed into a more fetching outfit likely to soften up the major. Then she walked across the Green and strode straight into the PRC as usual. The building was silent, as if the residents were absent or sleeping. Most likely sleeping, as few people had much rest during the last two nights’ bombing.
The door to the major’s office stood open and he was writing at his desk. He looked up, surprised, as she entered.
‘Hallo, Eve. How nice to see you again so soon. You changed your mind then?’
‘Yes, I did what I had to do quicker than expected. I’m sorry about earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. I hope you didn’t think me rude.’ Eve switched on her best smile and the most charm of which she was capable. She looked around the room for a chair and pulled one towards the desk and sat. The usual things littered his desk, including the almost empty bowl of sweets. Sharps toffees. Of course. There had been a waxed paper near Zoya’s body, and one in her bedside drawer.
Simon saw Eve looking at the toffees.
‘Help yourself. They’re a passion of mine, can’t stop eating the things. I know they’re bad for my teeth.’
That’s the least of your worries, thought Eve. If I have my way you won’t have to worry about your bloody teeth any more. Now she knew what she was up against she remembered something else about Simon Parkes that had been worrying her for days. On the Monday when she had first met him, as she was leaving after lunch, he had said something about Zoya being strangled. He couldn’t possibly have known then that was how she died because they didn’t have the PM results. He could only have known if he had killed her himself. And he must have been the one who passed around the word about Zoya’s pregnancy.
Eve thought it was a good moment to try a risky question.
‘How did you know Zoya was pregnant, Simon?’
He looked up at her, puzzled, ‘You must have told me.’
‘No, I didn’t know until after the PM and you told Borys and Miss Archer before I mentioned it.’
‘I don’t know. I must have heard it from somewhere. One of the girls I expect,’ Simon blustered. ‘Anyway, what does it matter? It had nothing to do with me.’
‘No, I know. It was Borys’s baby. But I bet you were jealous about it when you were going out with Zoya.’
‘What do you mean? I wasn’t taking Zoya out.’
‘Don’t be daft, Simon. It’s obvious. No-one else around here could have afforded all that lovely underwear and the evening gown, or trips to the Blue Angel. It had to be you.’
Simon Parkes stood up, the expression on his face transformed from benevolent friendliness to a vicious snarl. He picked up his stick and started to walk round to Eve’s side of the desk. Eve didn’t budge from her chair. Somehow she had to see this through.
‘So what if I took her out a few times and gave her a few things. That doesn’t mean I killed her. Why would I do such a thing? Do you think I was jealous of Borys?’ He spoke with deep contempt.
‘No, Simon, I don’t think it was just jealousy. I think it was something much more important than that. I think Zoya found out about your treasonous activities with the Right Club and threatened to expose you. You had to kill her before she let the world know what you were doing.’
Simon lunged at Eve with his cane, catching a glancing blow on her arm. She finally stood and circled round his desk to the side near the windows. One of the desk drawers was ajar and she slid her fingers in and opened it further. So simple and so foolish of him. At the top the drawer’s lay the proof she needed, Zoya’s identity card and a bunch of keys. Simon’s evident fury erupted into violence and he again lunged across the desk towards her. She ducked, not wanting to be within range of his stick or, worse his strong and skilful soldier’s hands.
‘You stupid bitch! What do you think you’re doing, playing amateur detective. How are you going to prove any of this? There were no witnesses; such a wet evening. Zoya went down without a sound; no-one heard a thing. No silly girl was going to prevent us from stopping the Americans coming into the war. You’ll see. Within a week it will all be over and the Germans will be welcomed at Whitehall. There’ll be a Victory Parade in Trafalgar Square and right will prevail. All but for a silly prudish Polish girl and you, Miss Duncan and your ferreting around. The baby had nothing to do with it. It wasn’t mine. She wouldn’t let me near her. After all the money I spent on her too.’ As he spoke his voice rose, louder and louder and his eyes grew wild and spittle sprayed from his mouth in a mad parody of his leader.
Eve knew that the policemen waiting in the hall had heard every word. The arrogant major had forgotten how easy it was to creep into the building. He stabbed towards her again and she nimbly sidestepped the blow, grateful for his wound as she was sure that, fully fit, Parkes could have dealt a fatal blow.
‘Aargh!’ he cried out in frustration and fury.
The door was flung open and Inspector Reed himself strode in, followed by a sergeant and two constables.
‘That’s enough, Major Parkes.’ he called. ‘You are under arrest for offences under the Defence of the Realm Act and for the murder of Zoya Pienkowski. Take him away, Constable.’
Struggling between the two officers, Parkes was led from the house, violently shouting obscenities over his shoulder. Watching them go, Eve thought about what she would tell Charlie. This would show him that she was a proper detective after all.
Inspector Reed turned to Eve.
‘Well, done Miss Duncan, you got him to admit it in the end. You do realise, I suppose, that if he and the Right Club had succeeded in their aims, they could have changed the entire course of the War?’
‘I do now, Inspector. I knew it would turn out to be important and not just a murder of no account.’
