‘Did you know Maurice Bensimon?’
‘Oh, yes. He taught for a while in the village school I attended – history, it was, although very simplified history because we were all quite young. Infants’ class. It’s a long time ago, but I still remember him. He was a gentle, scholarly man, but beneath it there was a steely core. I think he had immense courage and resilience.’
‘Ashby’s knew him as a collector – something to do with jewellery and silver,’ said Nell.
‘I don’t know what he was. I certainly don’t think teaching was his profession. The conditions in Europe at that time meant people – my people in particular – had to take on jobs that weren’t the norm for them. Sometimes it was camouflage for secret work against the Nazis. What I do know, though, is that Maurice Bensimon was part of some sort of resistance network in the war years,’ said Leo. ‘I think he was part of the escape plan that got us – myself and the other children – out to England in 1943. He worked with Sch?nbrunn, and Sch?nbrunn was the real heart of that network. He organized a great many escapes from the concentration camps, and he was a kind of legend. Even as children we knew about him. And when we met him on the night we left our homes for ever … We thought he was a god,’ said the professor. ‘He told us he would save us from the ovens and that we would be safe, and we believed him. And he did save us. He brought us to England.’ The smile deepened for a moment. ‘A remarkable man,’ he said. ‘Very charismatic.’
‘Professor, if you wish, I could ask Ashby’s to forward a letter to David Bensimon,’ said Nell.
She had not been sure how he would react, but the light came into his eyes again at once. ‘Could you do that? Would they agree?’
‘Let’s try,’ said Nell.
TWENTY-SIX
Professor Rosendale’s study was not particularly small, but as Nell and Michael waited with him for David Bensimon to arrive, Nell thought the room was filled almost to suffocation point with anticipation.
She had thought the professor was taking it very calmly, but when they heard the step on the stair, he stood up to face the door, and she saw that he grasped the back of his chair so tightly, his knuckles whitened.
David Bensimon came in quietly enough, and shook hands politely. He was around forty years of age, and Nell had the impression that although he wore casual, unobtrusive clothes, he had taken considerable care in the choosing of them. He had dark hair and eyes, and sensitive hands. He acknowledged Nell and Michael, then stood looking at the professor for a long time, before putting out his hands. As their hands met and gripped, Nell felt as if something had sizzled on the air – as if two electrical leads had been joined and become live.
‘Professor Rosendale,’ said David, at last. ‘I feel I am meeting a part of my great-uncle’s past.’
‘You have a strong look of Maurice. I’m so pleased to meet you.’ The words were conventional; the tone in which they were spoken was filled with emotion. ‘Please sit down,’ said Leo. ‘There is coffee there, or whisky if you prefer.’
‘Coffee, please. I shall keep a level head. Later we can get drunk.’ He smiled, then said, ‘I was right about the golem, wasn’t I? It’s the one Maurice tried to find?’
‘It is. It came to England seventy years ago,’ said Leo. ‘I had no idea your great-uncle tried to find it.’
‘He spent years in the search,’ said David. ‘The family legend is that he was trying to trace two girls. He hoped that if he could find the figure – if someone was trying to sell it – then that might give him a path to them.’
‘But … he didn’t find them?’ Nell thought she and Michael both heard the hope in the professor’s voice.
‘No.’