Murders in the Blitz

by Julia Underwood

  ‘Everyone is very scared,’ they said. ‘Is the body someone we know? Do you think there can be a murderer in the village? Some of those soldiers up at the Hall are a bit odd; could it have been done by one of them?’

  Hugh tried to be reassuring and used his most soothing tones. ‘The body may have been there for years, long before the soldiers were here,’ he said. ‘Someone probably dumped it from miles away. As no-one’s absent it can’t very well be anyone we know, can it?’

  The little party in the kitchen was joined by Mrs Gough, ostensibly on her way home from cleaning and polishing at the church, but ripe for more gossip that could be added to her store of rather meagre information obtained after the twins’ visit to Grace yesterday afternoon.

  ‘We don’t know anything else, Mabel,’ said Grace. ‘Eve has asked the police to keep us informed. But as we keep saying, there’s no-one from round here not accounted for.’

  ‘But...’ Vera, the twin in red, started to say something, a puzzled frown on her face, just as her sister stood up to leave. Eve looked at her with interest, but she was not to hear what Vera had to say.

  ‘It’s time we went home for lunch, Vee,’ Emily said. ‘We’ve taken up enough of Grace and Hugh’s time.’

  Eve watched as the pair gathered their scarves, coats and umbrellas with fussy fluttering and bustled to the door where Grace said goodbye. She would have liked to question Vera further; she plainly had something she wanted to say. But just as the Gossards departed the back door burst open and the children dashed in.

  ‘There’s coppers all over the woods,’ said little red-headed Stan, his normally pale face, rosy pink with exertion. The last of the boys, eight year old Gerry, panted at his elbow, relishing this further eruption of thrilling events.

  ‘They sent us packing,’ said Diana, Grace’s little girl, in the tones of someone with a deep grievance. ‘Told us not to get in the way.’

  ‘But we wasn’t,’ said Stan.

  ‘They’re searching all over the wood now,’ intoned Albert with pleasure, ‘probably looking for more bodies.’

  ‘There’s no reason to think there are any more bodies, so don’t keep on about it. And don’t get in the way of the police,’ said Hugh. ‘Get cleaned up, all of you. Then sit quietly in your rooms and read those books I gave you till lunchtime.’

  To Eve’s amazement the children, including Hugh’s own, turned without a grumble and clattered up the stairs. They would never have done that for her; Hugh certainly had a magic touch. Once the children had settled to their books he went into the room he used as a study and started to go through the notes he’d taken at the conference.

  *

  In what was left of the morning Eve and Grace prepared lunch for the ten of them. They had already made a vat of peppery onion and potato soup and cut Grace’s homemade bread into chunks. All that was left to do was lay the table and put out cheese and apples and glasses of milk for the children.

  ‘I can’t wait till September when there’ll be some plums on the trees. It’ll make a change from these old apples and the pears,’ said Grace.

  ‘There’ll be more strawberries and raspberries soon.’

  ‘Yes, if the birds don’t get them first, or if they haven’t all rotted in the rain. I must get Hugh to check the nets. Anyway, this lot will gobble them up in no time.’

  Eve constantly marvelled at the volume of produce that Grace managed to grow in her garden to supplement the rations. Beans and peas, marrows and tomatoes, soft fruits and rhubarb, a cornucopia of food. In London many of the things that they took for granted here were as rare as pigs’ wings. Even onions were in short supply in town nowadays and she was sure no-one had seen a strawberry since 1939. The vegetable stalls in Shepherds Bush market were, compared to pre-war standards, unremarkable and sparse. Potatoes, turnips, cabbages, occasional parsnips, that awful orange swede and sprouts in season, were about all they saw and they sold out very quickly. A varied diet was a thing of the past for Londoners.

  *

  They’d cleared up after lunch and Hugh had taken the boys outside to help repair the strawberry nets when another visitor came to the back door. A policeman came into the lobby where the boots and coats were kept. He was the man that Eve had first encountered up in the field before the police realised that the bones belonged to a human body.

  ‘Afternoon, Miss Duncan,’ he said with puzzled respect, as if he could not understand why Eve had been given the honour of this information. ‘Inspector said to come over and tell you what they’ve found out at the mortuary. Seems that them bones belonged to a woman aged between thirty and forty what had given birth at some time. They’re not sure how long she’s been dead. At least six months, they say, but could be a couple of years. Apparently the foxes and so on have got at them.’

  Eve shuddered. ‘You mean she was eaten by animals?’

  ‘The bits that got dug up were. The rest of the body was more intact as it’d still been buried in the peat, so they could tell more from that.’

  ‘Could they identify her?’ asked Grace.

  ‘No. There’s no clothes you could make out properly, just rags, nor jewellery or nothing. She had dark brown hair and was about five foot five tall, but that’s all they can tell. No fingerprints any more. And we probably wouldn’t have a record of them in any case. They’re still looking for a cause of death, but it mayn’t be possible to find out how she died.’ The policeman closed the notebook he’d been consulting with a conclusive snap.

  ‘Thank you very much for letting me know, constable,’ said Eve with a smile. ‘I hope you’ll thank the inspector too and say I’d love to know if you find out anything else. Will there be an inquest do you think?’

  ‘Oh, sure to be, Miss. I’ll tell you when it is, shall I?’

  ‘Yes, I’d be grateful. The Coroner may want me to be a witness rather than the children as I was one of the first to see her. We don’t want to get them all worked up again.’

  The constable took his leave and Eve wandered back to the kitchen where Grace was pounding at a huge lump of bread dough. Eve repeated what the policeman had said.

  ‘Poor woman. She may have been taken ill up in the woods and died there and nobody knew where she was,’ Grace said.

  ‘She couldn’t very well have buried herself, Grace. Anyway, wouldn’t someone have put out an alarm for a missing person in that case? Though I suppose people go missing all the time in London, what with the bombing and everything.’

  ‘Perhaps she wasn’t from anywhere round here; just out in the country for the day. They may be looking for her in one of the cities. She may have run away from home for some reason. Oh dear, it doesn’t bear thinking about; dying all alone like that.’

  ‘Don’t upset yourself, Grace, we’ll hear about it soon enough. The inquest may turn up something. I hope they don’t hold it till the children are back at school.’

  *

  As it turned out Eve was sent a written request to attend the inquest in Highston on Wednesday week, just two days after the children started back at school for the autumn term.

  Hugh, clearly exhilarated by the prospect of the start of a new school year, teased the children.

  ‘Well, you lot of layabouts,’ he said, ‘enjoy your last week of freedom. Next week it’s back to the grindstone and I expect you to be the best in the school because you live with me. And don’t imagine you’ll have any special treatment either.’

  The kids groaned at the thought, grinning at the same time, knowing that Hugh’s rule might be strict, but it was never harsh. As headmasters go, he was obviously a pussy cat compared to the stern and uncompromising headmistress at Eve and Charlie’s elementary school; a regime where the ruler or switch were regularly applied for the smallest misdemeanour. Eve thought these kids were damned lucky.

  Chapter Six

  On the given Wednesday morning Eve took the bus to Highston and left Grace at home to her unrelenting tasks, cleaning and cooking. Eve had bee
n summoned to be a witness at the inquest, but she still felt guilty at the time off because she was here in the country to help her sister, not to go swanning off to town at the first opportunity. But Eve fancied the idea of exploring the little market town after the inquest as she hadn’t had a moment to do so before. Now the children were back at school she had a little time on her hands and for once the morning was dry, although the clouds to the west suggested the afternoon would prove less pleasant.

  The inquest was due to start at eleven thirty and, as the chubby single-decker bus laboured asthmatically through the tree-lined lanes, where the branches often met over the roof, giving the effect of travelling through a dark tunnel, Eve began to worry that she might be late as the bus’s pace was so slow. But it arrived just in time for her to scamper to the court house, a bulky, staid Victorian building near the centre of the town overlooking the market square and flanked by even more ancient structures. The Coroner’s Court was held in a spacious upstairs room as the ground floor of the building had been given to the offices of the Ministry of Food, from which they administrated the issuing of ration books for a wide area around Highston.

  After a clerk directed her, Eve pushed open the double doors of the court, and she was guided to the seats near the front set aside for witnesses. Looking around, she noticed that Fred Gardiner was sitting near the back on the benches reserved for members of the public interested in the enquiry and reporters from the local paper. Just one young woman with a notebook represented the Press. Clearly no-one was very interested in the discovery of unidentified bones in Little Barrington, except for another couple of villagers that Eve remembered seeing in the street. Eve also thought she saw the dark figure of the vicar in a corner at the back, his black clothing disappearing into the deep shadows. He was probably there in a professional capacity, looking for material for next Sunday’s sermon. Fred sat beside the reporter with two elderly women on his other side. They looked as if they’d merely come in to pass an interesting afternoon and had brought a sandwich lunch with them – cheaper than the cinema and with promise of drama to boot. They were chattering like starlings until the Coroner entered the court and a respectful hush descended over the proceedings. Fred beamed Eve one of his grins and a slight wave.

  The clerk of the court started the inquest by telling everyone why they were there; to determine the cause of death of the body found on the edge of Barrington Wood.

  ‘Firstly − Discovery of the Remains.’ The man spoke in sombre tones and capital letters. ‘Calling Miss Eve Duncan.’ A woman was taking notes at a table in the front of the court.

  Eve was directed to the front, in an area set aside for witnesses to speak, she took the oath and the Coroner, a much more relaxed and informal chap than the clerk, leant forward and spoke in a conversational tone.

  ‘I understand you did not personally discover the remains, Miss Duncan. Would you mind explaining, for the record, why you are acting as a witness to the discovery?’

  Eve went through the events of the week before and, from the arrival of Albert on the kitchen doorstep, she described what had happened later that morning.

  ‘We thought it best if I gave evidence rather than the evacuee children as we don’t want to upset them any more than necessary.’

  ‘Quite so, Miss Duncan, I completely understand and agree. This court is perfectly prepared to accept your evidence as you were very soon at the scene after the children found the bones.’

  Eve described what the children had discovered and what happened later when the police were called; her vigil waiting with the bones to see that they were not disturbed and the subsequent arrival of the police entourage. When she’d finished, the Coroner thanked and dismissed her. Eve took the same seat again as she wanted to hear the rest of the evidence presented. She knew that little more had been discovered, but it might be interesting to hear the entire official version.

  The police told their version of events up to when they handed over the body to the coroner’s pathologist. They described the bones found by Albert and then the discovery of the remainder of the body by the police dog, Pike, further into the wood.

  The pathologist then took the stand and described the body in detail, telling the court that they’d determined that the remains were those of a woman of between thirty and forty five who’d given birth at some time. He didn’t add any more information to what Eve already knew except in one detail. It appeared that the pathologist had determined that the skull had sustained a heavy blow from behind before death and it had caved in the back of the woman’s head. The blow, he said, must have caused considerable brain damage and he had no doubt that this wound was the cause of death, which would have been almost instantaneous. He could not ascertain what had been the murder weapon beyond the fact that it had been a heavy object delivered with considerable force. They hadn’t been able to identify the body as no distinguishing marks remained and the women had perfect teeth in her battered skull – it appeared that she had never had any dental treatment. As the Coroner said when the pathologist had finished giving his evidence, this was regrettable because dental records were often used to identify a person after death.

  The proceedings concluded with the Coroner giving his verdict. He adopted a serious manner.

  ‘I think is clear,’ he declared, ‘that this woman was unlawfully killed. I therefore submit a verdict of murder by person or persons unknown. When and if, in due course, the identity of the unfortunate victim is ascertained, it should be recorded with the findings of this court. Thank you all very much for attending.’

  The Coroner gathered his papers, stood and prepared to leave. That was the extent of the case for the poor woman in the wood. The whole event had taken less than half an hour.

  On the way out of the court Eve found Fred Gardiner waiting for her in the hallway.

  ‘Hello, Fred, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I thought I’d come along and have a butcher’s. I’ve never been to one of these things. It wasn’t as interesting as I’d hoped. That poor reporter girl is going to have a problem writing something interesting for the paper.’

  The cockney rhyming slang he’d used didn’t sit well with Fred’s country burr, but Eve grinned at him; he was just trying to be friendly.

  ‘I think the inquest’s just procedure,’ said Eve, ‘so that something goes into the records. It’s not supposed to be very sensational.’

  ‘Come to the pub for a pint and a sandwich?’ Fred said.

  Eve was happy to accompany him to the splendid old coaching inn on the other side of the market square, grandly named The Duke of Clarence. A much more well-appointed hostelry than the Royal Oak in Little Barrington, this place had mahogany panelled walls and bars, etched glass panels and windows, and an impressively carved fireplace. Eve and Fred passed a happy half an hour before he had to return to work at the council offices. While they were eating at the bar, Fred talked about his children; boys aged 13 and 15, of whom he was clearly very proud, and his wife, Doris, who he also seemed inordinately fond of. They’d not been married long, it seemed.

  Eve talked about Shepherds Bush and the Blitz and how difficult life was for everyone in London; the horror of the bombing and the discomfort of the shelters. Fred asked about the evacuees and moaned about their thieving ways and the fact that he was sure they’d been stealing his soft fruit. He proved a good listener and Eve enjoyed his undemanding company. They chatted about many things, except the inquest, which had exhausted its interest for them both for now.

  Fred pointed out several people that he knew who were also present in the hostelry.

  ‘Good heavens,’ he said, ‘there’s Lady Muck – sorry, Lady Passmore – she’s the wife of the Earl. He’s commander of an outfit somewhere in the Med. and she’s living in the Dower House because Passmore Hall’s been requisitioned as a military hospital. She’s pretty fed up with it too, by all accounts, considers it a disgrace that common soldiers should be occupying the ancestral pil
e. It looks as if she’s meeting someone for lunch.’

  Fred’s curiosity as to Lady Passmore’s luncheon companion caused him to lean so far back on his bar stool that Eve feared he’d topple over.

  As her ladyship passed into the dining room Fred settled into his seat again. ‘I think she’s just having lunch with the vicar – he’s a great friend of hers I understand. He’s up at the Hall a lot because he goes to visit the wounded soldiers and give them pastoral care. Poor devils.’

  Eve wasn’t sure if he meant they were poor devils because of their injuries or because they had to put up with the attentions of the Reverend Groome. Eve had already met the frosty vicar and couldn’t see him as the provider of succour to men wounded in body and spirit. His boring platitudes were more likely to agitate them.

  Mr Forbes, from the Little Barrington village shop popped in for a pint and came to say hello, but didn’t linger as he was meeting a friend.

  ‘The missus is taking care of the shop today,’ he said. ‘Wednesday’s early closing, so I get the afternoon off.’

  *

  On the way home Eve stared out of the window at the streaming rain that had started as she boarded the bus, just as she had predicted that morning. She reflected on the evidence she’d heard at the inquest. How sad for that poor woman who’d been murdered, taken to the wood and buried so unceremoniously in the peat. Would they ever find out who she was and, more importantly, who had killed her?

  Chapter Seven

  That evening Eve persuaded Grace to leave the house for once and come to the pub with her.

  ‘Yes, you two go. I’ll keep an eye on the children, you need a break.’ Hugh kissed Grace gently and almost pushed her out of the door. ‘Go on. I’ll see you later.’

  The women walked into the village. Although the rain had stopped they took a large umbrella with them, just in case.

  ‘It seems like months since I went to the pub,’ said Grace.