Deadlight-Hall(3)

‘There’s a firm of builders working on it. Apparently they’re perfectly used to people wandering in at random to look at the flats.’

‘Would you like me to come with you? Oh wait, I’ve got that Italian couple coming to look at the rosewood table tomorrow.’

‘Then I’ll have to ghost-hunt alone,’ said Michael.

Nell spent the first half of the following morning applying Danish oil to the rosewood table, then setting it in the shop where it would display to the best advantage. She had bought it quite cheaply because it had been in a very neglected state, and had spent hours restoring it. If the Italian customers bought it, she would probably buy Beth the piano she wanted from the proceeds. It was nice that Beth was enjoying her music lessons so much; Beth’s father had loved music, and Nell was trying to encourage Beth without overkill. Enthusiasms at the age of ten did not necessarily last, of course, but there was room in the little house for a cottage piano at least.

She was just putting away the oil and the cloths when the shop door opened somewhat tentatively, and a tallish, rather elderly gentleman came in. He was wearing a long overcoat, and he had dark eyes and strongly marked cheekbones. Professor Rosendale, thought Nell. Or if it isn’t, I’ll drink the rest of the Danish oil.

But it was the professor, of course. He introduced himself with careful courtesy, and although he did not quite have an accent, there was something about the phrasing of his speech that was not quite English. Nell found this rather attractive.

He explained that Michael had suggested she might take care of the selling of something for him.

‘Of course I will. Michael said you might look in. I’ll be very happy to help if I can.’

‘I’m having a kind of mental Spring cleaning,’ said the professor confidingly, and with extreme care placed on the desk a small wrapped object. As he unfolded the soft dark cloth around it, Nell felt a sudden prickling of anticipation. This is going to be something good. Something really unusual. He folded back the wrappings, and there it was. A figure fashioned in what looked like solid silver – a chunky man-shaped outline about eight or nine inches high. There was a rudimentary face with a markedly benign appearance.

Nell lifted it from its cocoon, and turned it over in her hands, loving the smooth, cool feel of the surface.

‘It’s what is called a golem,’ said Professor Rosendale.

‘I’ve heard of them, but only in a very general way, and I’ve never seen one. I’m not very knowledgeable in this area, but it’s from Jewish mythology, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. The Hebrew word g?lem means formless. So a golem is a figure supposedly created from inanimate matter – you can see how this one has been crafted to represent the legend of the being hewn from clay or fashioned from mud. The legend tells how at times it could be activated by mystical force. It’s usually regarded as a force for good, but some of the tales relate times when it was harnessed for malevolence.’ He smiled. ‘People will always find a darker side to any story, won’t they?’

‘Sadly, yes.’ Nell went on studying the figure, which was attractive and endearing.

‘All the stories about golem figures animating are myth, of course. But interesting to hear and pass down – and analyse. There’s said to have been a sixteenth-century figure – the Golem of Prague – created by a rabbi of the day to protect the Jewish people. It’s supposed to have been stored in an attic or entombed in a graveyard in Prague’s Zizkov district. All good tales, but no provenance for any of them.’

‘Is there any kind of provenance for this figure?’ asked Nell.

‘I’m afraid not. Nothing written down, that is. It’s also said to be from Prague, but I suspect that’s said of all golems, in homage to the famous one. What I do know is that this figure came from the synagogue in my home – it was there for a great many years. I used to see it as a boy. It’s one of the few things I brought with me to England.’

Nell reached for a magnifying glass to inspect the figure in more detail, and the professor waited, leaving her to concentrate. After a few moments, Nell said, ‘I think this is very valuable, and I think that, offered in the right way, it might attract a good deal of interest. But I’m not an expert in this kind of antique. There’s a hallmark just here under the feet which should identify where it was made, although I’d need to look in the reference books on that.’

‘Would that mean leaving the figure with you, though?’