Sch?nbrunn and I walked rather shakily from the furnace room. Neither of us spoke. Both of us wanted, I believe, to simply reach the good fresh air and the normal world, and to get away from Deadlight Hall as fast as we could.
Neither of us can explain what happened to Porringer. There was no one else with us in the furnace room. It can only be that when Porringer fell against the furnace, the cover was dislodged by his fall and the hinges broke, so that when it swung closed, it somehow locked into place. That, we have agreed, is the likeliest explanation.
But we cannot explain how the furnace itself fired.
As we went up the stone steps to the main hall, Sch?nbrunn said, ‘There was no trace of the twins here, was there?’ and I heard a note of appeal in his voice.
‘No trace whatsoever. We’ve done all we can here to find them.’
‘Did he really know anything, do you suppose?’ I said, as we crossed the big hall. ‘Because there was that hesitation when we asked him.’
‘I marked that, as well. But …’ He stopped. ‘Listen.’
‘I can’t hear anything,’ I began, then broke off, because I was hearing it now. Through the dim dereliction of Deadlight Hall came the strange and vaguely sinister call we had heard earlier.
‘Children, where are you?’
‘It’s Mr Battersby,’ I said, but even I could hear the uncertain note in my voice.
‘I don’t think it is,’ said Sch?nbrunn, speaking quietly as if fearful of being overheard.
‘Then who?’
‘I have no idea.’
We went out of the old house without waiting to find out who was calling for the children – I don’t think either of us really wanted to know who it was. We stood for a moment, thankfully breathing in the fresh air, then we drove back to Oxford and our lodgings.
As to Sophie and Susannah Reiss, we still have no information. Porringer wanted us to believe Mengele had them, of that we are sure. And yet there was that hesitation. But we shall not stop trying to find out what happened to them.
Tomorrow I am going to London, and I will follow the twins’ trail from another source – that of the Prague golem that they took when they were smuggled out of Warsaw. It is just faintly possible that whoever took the girls will have tried to sell it – it’s so obviously valuable that it would be a considerable temptation. It’s also sufficiently unusual to be remembered. I have a few contacts in the jewellery quarter of London and I shall approach them – using extreme discretion, of course. I am not very optimistic about finding anything, but it is an avenue that must be explored.
As always, my best regards to you,
M.B.
London 1944
Dear J.W.
Forgive the rather long silence between letters, but since reaching London I have been very much involved in the search for the golem. Sadly, my cautious forays into the jewellery quarters of London have provided no information at all. My approaches met with courtesy and efficiency, but no one could help. One fine old auction house here – Ashby’s by name – has promised to correspond with me if they do hear of such an item being offered, and I have given the name and address of my bank for any possible letters. I am not, though, very hopeful.