Deadlight-Hall(33)

Michael promised to invoke various insurances for the replacement of the boots, after which he signed up for a twelve-month donation to one of the wildlife societies. The second year was somewhat mollified at this, thought she would replace the pink suede, which was rather last-year, with grey, and helped Michael dispose of the corpse in one of the flower beds.

Honour being satisfied all round, Michael escaped to his rooms to immerse himself in the relative sanity of the essays on the metaphysical poets.

He put what he was already calling the Porringer letters into a drawer, ready to show to Professor Rosendale, and started to read the first of the essays which was by a particularly promising first-year student who was already showing signs of heading for a Double First, providing he could stay on track.





NINE


London

Spring 1944

Dear J.W.

I think I may have been slightly mad or possibly even a little inebriated when I agreed to travel to London to meet Sch?nbrunn. But Sch?nbrunn has that effect on people, so, as you see, here I am and we shall start the search for the Reiss twins at once. I will try to leave poste restante addresses for you, so that if the twins do send a message to their parents (and I pray they will), you can let me know. For the moment, any correspondence sent in care of Drummonds Bank in Charing Cross will reach me.

London is war-torn – not quite as badly as our own Warsaw and Prague, but certainly battered. I have always liked this city, just as I have always liked this country. The British are a resilient race, with a truly remarkable way of seeing humour in misfortune and tragedy. They have made up raucous and very derogatory songs about Hitler, which they sing in their theatres and public houses. Even during an air raid, people in the shelters will make rude gestures to the Luftwaffe, making light of the fact that German bombs might be exploding their homes to splinters as they do so.

I am hoping I pass as sufficiently English not to arouse any suspicion. My knowledge of the language is fairly good, I think, although I am careful not to speak unless necessary, because my accent could so easily be taken to be German. Sch?nbrunn, on the other hand, could pass in almost any country in the world as a native, and he has the most extraordinary gift for blending into any company. I have now been with him into several public houses, and incredibly in each one there is someone who puts up a hand in a gesture of greeting and recognition. Or, of course, it may be that he is simply choosing places where he knows there will be contacts.

You are right not to tell the twins’ parents yet that they have vanished. We should not worry them until we know the truth.

Tomorrow Sch?nbrunn is taking me to a small village in Oxfordshire. This is where the twins and also Leo Rosendale were originally placed – Leo is still there, we believe – so Sch?nbrunn feels that is where we must begin.

I wondered if we should seek out Leo, who might remember something useful about the twins – those three were such friends – but Sch?nbrunn thinks it better not. It could distress Leo unnecessarily, he says, and there is also the point that we do not want to draw attention to ourselves. Two strangers in a small country place, talking to a child, may attract notice.

I have no idea if this letter will reach you safely or if it will do so in its entirety, but as usual Sch?nbrunn has friends within some kind of secret network, and assures me he can get letters to you. For that reason I feel able to write in more detail than I should otherwise dare.

As always, I send my kind regards and very best wishes. Stay safe, my good friend,

M.B.

Oxford

Spring 1944

Dear J.W.

As you see, we have reached Oxford. Travelling is difficult, although not impossible, but the trains seem to take the longest route between two places, and there are all kinds of papers and proofs of identity to be shown along the journey. Sch?nbrunn, as you will guess, has provided us with all the necessary documents. I have not asked how or where he acquired them – I have not dared! I am just grateful that they are accepted.

Oxford is a beautiful city, even in the midst of this war, and we have managed to find rooms in a small boarding house which is modest, but clean and comfortable. Somehow Sch?nbrunn has acquired a motor car – a shocking old rattletrap it is – and also petrol (again, I dare not ask). However, a car will make things much easier, although he is a terrible driver. I clutch the dashboard as we bounce along, while Sch?nbrunn wrestles with gears and steering, and swears at the other motorists in various languages.

Sophie and Susannah Reiss were placed with a family in a village just outside a place called Wolvercote. Sch?nbrunn was involved in the arrangements and knows the way, so we shall drive there tomorrow and call at the house, presenting ourselves as Ministry Officials. Apparently the British are accustomed to people knocking on their doors and asking the most intimate questions. I dare say this is the fault of various War Departments.