‘Well, as soon as Intelligence is satisfied that the girl’s got nothing, they’ll drop it. You know how they are. Too much on their plate to worry about what-ifs.’
‘Who did you speak to, Stella?’
‘That’s the weird thing. No-one. But you quit the service in a hurry. Maybe they kept a tab on you, just in case.’
‘Maybe. Anyway. It’s all over now. She doesn’t have whatever they think she had. I just want to make sure she’s safe.’
As he said those words, he turned to look at the young man but he was gone.
‘Dear Jack, I think you’ll be fine.’
Stella was smiling now. Jack smiled back at her. Now that the young Intelligence agent had heard what he wanted to hear, they should leave Jack and Mina alone. One less thing to worry about. But he couldn’t ask Stella or anyone else for help, or they’d come back after Mina with renewed strength. He laughed out loud.
‘I’d forgotten how sneaky those guys were,’ he said, ‘that’s a relief. Let’s go for dinner.’
‘Great. I know this fantastic Greek place in Coptic Street.’
Chapter 23
December 15th, 2004. Cambridge
Mina walked through the revolving doors of the University Library. After obtaining her reader’s ticket, she walked up to the first floor. She passed the Catalogue Hall and entered the Reading Room. The Library itself was a modern edifice, but the oblong Reading Room’s white walls, large windows and its high wood panelled ceiling gave it a peculiar and ancient feel. Mina chose a seat among the many available for readers and sat down. She wondered what she was supposed to do now. Maybe she should email Dr Shobai and ask him for help? She felt lost without Jack. She decided to focus on the research units housed within this huge library. Poor Eli had told them about a group of scholars from the University Library in Cambridge on the very night he was murdered in Safed. She returned to the main desk and was given a small booklet with information for first time users of the library. She ran through the various research units and one caught her attention, The Taylor-Schechter Genizah Research Unit. She knew what a
Perfect. The scholars Eli had met must have come from this unit. She called them from an internal phone at the front desk and made an appointment to meet a research assistant after lunch.
Mina walked into The Taylor-Schechter Genizah Research Unit. She introduced herself as a scholar in Jewish studies from New York, looking to meet a researcher specialised in the history of Jews in the British Isles. Soon enough she was shown into an office by the unit’s secretary.
‘Hi,’ said a portly woman wearing an awful purple turtleneck and a matching pair of trousers, ‘how can I help you?’
‘Well’, said Mina, ‘thanks for seeing me at such short notice. It may come as a surprise to you, but I was told about your unit by some scholars in Safed, in Israel.’
‘That makes sense, we work with scholars all over the world. Tell me about your research, Mina.’
‘I’m working on a small 18th century letter written by a Jewish scholar from Cambridge. I thought someone at the Research Unit might be able to point me in the right direction.’
‘Hmm. That’s strange. You see, there were no Jewish scholars, well not officially, in 18th century Cambridge. They only became eligible to study and teach at the University in the late 19th century. The earliest scholar I can think of was a Hungarian rabbi by the name of Solomon Schiller-Szinessy. But we’re talking about the 1860s, not before… what is the name of the scholar?’
‘Hildersham,’ said Mina.
‘I don’t know any scholar by that name. Are you sure about it? It sounds German, a little like Hildersheim or Hildesheim?’
‘No. It’s Hildersham, from Cambridge’ replied Mina.
‘You know, there is a village called Hildersham, about ten miles east of Cambridge, beyond the Gog Magog hills. Maybe your scholar lived there?’
Of course! Mina felt so stupid. She hadn’t even bothered to check if Hildersham was a place. She could easily have googled it and found the answer within a few seconds.
Mina was about to leave and thank her profusely, when the woman remembered one of the unit’s associated researchers.
‘Daniel Bamart is from Hildersham. He might be able to help you out. I’ll give him a call at his office.’
She picked up the phone and dialled his number. While she waited for him to pick up, she asked Mina where she would be in the next two hours. ‘In the Reading Room’, Mina replied.
‘Hi Daniel. How are things? Excellent! Really? Well, I have someone here who might need your help. Are you free later on? Great. Her name is Mina Osman. She’ll be in the Reading Room. In an hour. OK. Thanks. See you around,’ she said. Then she turned to Mina.
‘There you go. He’ll pop by in an hour or so. I hope it helps.’
‘Thank you so much!’ replied Mina, and she walked back down to the Reading Room.
An hour later, Mina noticed a lanky young man observing her from afar. He seemed to be in his late twenties, with a wild mane of ash blond hair and a dreamy air about him. He was handsome in an academic sort of way. Eventually, with much hesitation and an odd mixture of ‘ehms’ and ‘ahhs’, he asked her if her name was Mina Osman.
‘Yes, that’s me. Are you Daniel?’ asked Mina.
‘Yes Daniel Bamart.’ They shook hands, ‘Are you working at the Genizah?’
‘No. I’m doing some research based on a letter I found related to Hildersham. What about you?’
‘Oh, I’m a Hebrew scholar. I was brought up in Cambridge but I studied in Jerusalem. I’m currently working on a joint research project at the unit. To tell you the truth, the person who is most likely to be able to help you is my father.’
‘Really? Why’s that?’ asked Mina.
‘He’s a retired medical doctor but his passion is local history. He could probably answer any questions you have about Hildersham.’
‘Fantastic. When do you think I could visit him?’
‘What about right now?’ Daniel asked her tentatively.
‘Great!’
‘OK. I’ll drive you down there, I was off to see him anyway,’ he lied.
‘You’re sure he won’t mind me arriving unannounced?’ Mina asked.
‘No. Really. He’s retired you know; lots of time on his hands.’
‘OK. Let’s go then.’
They drove for twenty minutes in a slight drizzle. Mina watched the countryside rolling by on the eastern road out of Cambridge. She looked up and noticed dark clouds gathering in the sky. Daniel turned off the main road into Hildersham. They passed a small bridge, a few houses and he parked the car outside a charming old cottage, with a small brass plaque that read ‘Mulberry Cottage.’
‘The door’s always unlocked. My dad doesn’t believe in break-ins,’ Daniel said with a sigh.
They entered the cottage and walked through to a comfortable living room. Its centuries old white-washed walls were covered in black-and-white framed landscape photographs. Daniel’s father was asleep in an armchair, a book lying across his lap. Daniel woke him up gently.
‘Hi dad. It’s me.’
