My Name is Eva An absolutely gripping and emotional historical novel - Suzanne Goldring Page 0,21

the weapons that were found at your previous address, Kingsley Manor. Firstly, can I confirm that you are the legal owner of the property and were the sole resident there until you came to live here, at Forest Lawns?’

‘My parents lived at Kingsley,’ Evelyn says. ‘Such beautiful gardens. Have you been there? Did you go to see the snowdrops?’

‘They aren’t out now,’ Pat says. ‘It’s the wrong time of year. It’s November, not spring.’

‘What a pity,’ Evelyn says. ‘Then you simply must go back in January or February. The snowdrops are wonderful at that time of year.’ She waves her hand in a sweeping gesture. ‘Great carpets of them. The Kingsley gardens are quite famous for their snowdrops.’

‘I may well do that,’ says the Inspector. ‘But what I want to know now is this – did you pack items into these suitcases that were found in one of the bedrooms? There was one on the floor and another on top of the wardrobe.’ He holds out a photograph of the two cases.

Evelyn stares at the picture. ‘Those cases look awfully heavy. You must be very careful lifting heavy cases, young man.’

‘Of course, madam, I’ll bear that in mind. But do you recognise these suitcases?’

She glances at the picture again and shrugs. ‘Should I?’ Then, at the sound of the tea trolley, she looks towards the door. ‘Oh goodie, coffee’s on its way.’ Mary enters, bearing a tray, and Evelyn peers at the plate of assorted biscuits. ‘Aren’t there any Bourbons today, Mary? I do rather like Bourbons. I’m not too keen on these Garibaldi – the currants stick in one’s teeth awfully.’

‘I’ll see what I can find,’ Mary says. ‘And if we’re in luck, I’ll be back in just a tick.’

The three of them stir their cups and Inspector Williams dunks a digestive biscuit in his coffee. He leaves it rather too long and a sodden segment plops into the cup with a little splash that spatters his shirt. Evelyn doesn’t approve of dunking and nibbles a custard cream. ‘Can you tell me what was stored in these suitcases?’ he says, brushing at his shirt with a crumpled handkerchief he has found in his pocket.

Evelyn pauses in her nibbling, then says, ‘Oh, I don’t know. Could it be clothes? Old clothes? Mama never threw anything away. She always said good-quality clothes should never be wasted, they can always be remodelled. She had some lovely dresses and coats and a marvellous dressmaker. I must give you her address, Pat. You could do with some good outfits.’

Pat is wearing a creased sweater and dark slacks strewn with dog hair. She glares at her aunt and sips her coffee.

‘We did find some items of clothing in the cases, madam, but that’s not all there was. Take a look at these pictures.’ Inspector Williams holds out two more photographs. ‘This is what we found inside.’ One picture shows a tailored uniform and some papers; the other is a Sten gun, its leather strap coiled in a loop, alongside a handgun and ammunition. ‘Do you recognise any of these items?’

I’m so annoyed I couldn’t clear out those cases, Evelyn thinks. But I did try, tottering on top of that rickety chair in the bedroom, stretching up to the top of the wardrobe, nearly grabbing the handle and then falling. That’s when I knew I couldn’t hide away any longer, when I knew I could no longer cover my tracks. I should never have put the cases up there in the first place. Under the bed would have been much more sensible. Why didn’t I think of that?

But all she says is, ‘What a big gun, Inspector! However did it get there?’

‘Exactly. That’s what we’d like to know, madam. It would be most helpful to us if you could throw any light on the ownership.’

Evelyn is silent. The Inspector takes a picture of an old passport from his file. ‘We found this in the case as well,’ he says. ‘Your niece has told us that the photo in this is you when you were younger. But the passport is in the name of Eva Kuscheck. Can you tell me why you appear to have a passport in that name?’

Evelyn continues staring, then looks at the tea tray on the side table and says, ‘How disappointing. The Bourbons have all gone. Pat, have you eaten them all?’

Pat heaves a sigh. ‘No, I haven’t, but I’ll go and see if they’ve got any in the kitchen. Mary said