ONE DAY IN THE SPRING OF NINETEEN-FOR.TY-ONE KAY Bryant walked along Little Carberry Street. She had come to see what the blitz had done to it. She had heard it had done a good deal. So it had, she discovered. Number Ten itself, together with Eight and Twelve, had completely vanished. The Blue Pigeon was a jagged ruin. On the site of the cafe where Kay had once sat and talked of crime with Detective Inspector Gory, stood a tank for the use of the N.F.S. The little delicatessen had gone and so had the dairy, and nearly all the windows facing on to the street had been boarded up.
Classic Crime Fiction
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