‘Printed itself on the walls,’ said Nell.
‘In a strange, child’s way, I even thought I might be being given a second chance to stop it all happening. But tonight, listening to that journal, I have to ask whether it was a different replay altogether I was seeing.’
‘A replay of a much older tragedy,’ said Michael, softly. ‘The burning of Esther.’
‘Tomorrow I may argue against you on that,’ said Leo. ‘But tonight … yes, tonight I can believe that.’
‘What happened about Simeon’s death?’
‘It was put down as a bizarre accident. And eventually I managed to … not forget it exactly, but to put it to the back of my mind. Life went along, and other things overlaid his death. School and study and then Oxford. I came here as a young man,’ he said. ‘And I never left. But the years have been good to me, you know. I like my work and my students. I like being part of Oxford. I enjoy the research and the friendships. Even the little feuds and power struggles that go on. But then I read that Deadlight Hall was being restored – that people would be living in it again – and I couldn’t get rid of the fear that the old hatred – the twins’ hatred and their terror – might somehow reactivate. So I came to you for help,’ he said, looking at Michael.
There was a brief silence, then Michael said, ‘There’s something more, isn’t there? Something you haven’t told us. Is it to do with the twins?’
Leo hesitated, then said, ‘A long-standing nightmare. On the night we were smuggled out of our village, we heard some of the grown-ups talking about the Todesengel. The Angel of Death.’
Nell looked at him questioningly, and it was Michael who said, ‘Josef Mengele. That was what they called him, wasn’t it? My God, yes, of course. Mengele experimented on twins in the concentration camps.’
‘Yes. I didn’t know at the time, of course, but I’ve come to know since, that Dr Mengele was deeply interested in telepathy between twins. He was hunting for case studies. Sophie and Susannah were strongly telepathic. I think he was hunting for them.’
‘Did you find out what happened to them?’
‘No. But that night in Deadlight Hall I heard – and the twins heard – someone prowling through the house, calling for the children.’
‘Children where are you? I will find you, you know,’ said Michael softly. ‘Was it Mengele’s agents, do you think, or … or was it the voice I heard? That the nineteenth-century children heard?’
‘I don’t know. But Sophie and Susannah vanished that night, as silently and as efficiently as if they had been snatched up by someone who knew exactly what he was doing and what he wanted. Someone working to very precise orders.’
‘Orders from Josef Mengele?’
‘That’s what I’ve always thought,’ said Leo. ‘At least – until tonight.’
‘Is there no one – no one at all – who might know about your twins?’
‘It’s too long ago,’ he said.
Nell said, ‘Not necessarily,’ and handed him the letter Ashby’s had sent from David Bensimon.
‘What …?’
‘It probably won’t lead to anything,’ she said. ‘But read it anyway.’
Leo frowned, and began to read. As he did, Nell saw that the pupils of his eyes contracted as if he had suddenly been faced with a dazzling light.
‘How extraordinary,’ he said, at last. ‘Maurice Bensimon.’ His voice sounded faraway, as if he had retreated into the past, or as if he was trying to reach back a very long way in order to unwrap an old and fragile memory. ‘I never thought I’d hear that name again. But this man – this David – says his great-uncle tried to find a silver golem during the years of the Second World War.’
‘And he believes the one you’re selling could be that same figure,’ said Nell. ‘Could it be?’
‘Yes. Yes, I think it must be,’ said Leo.