Absence was in Jewish blood in the same way it was in the blood of the Irish. People were always going. That’s how it was. His father’s brothers and sisters were in Poland and Germany and England and South Africa and America; they had left their parents in Russia and never seen them again. Mr Field had always known Susan would go, sooner or later, like her sisters, to Palestine perhaps. That was why she wanted a degree, so that she could teach there. He’d never been comfortable with the young Zionists she used to bring home. He enjoyed the arguments, but there was too much socialism and communism flying around for his taste. He didn’t really notice when she stopped bringing anybody home at all. He was too busy at the synagogue.
‘There’s nothing more I can tell you, Mr Gillespie.’
‘She has a sister in London.’
‘Yes, in Finchley.’
‘Would she have contacted her?’
‘Susan’s nearly ten years younger. Rachel has a family now.’ It wasn’t an answer; it was empty evasion. It was a man trying not to think.
‘What does she say about it?’
‘We just don’t know, Sergeant, none of us know.’
‘She must think something.’
‘I went to the police again, when Rachel came over, but there was nothing more to find out. Susan was living her own life. She lived in the house, but we hardly saw each other. Sometimes she was here, sometimes she wasn’t. I know she was very unsettled. I should have talked to her, I know I should. Rachel felt the only thing we could do was wait — ’
Stefan took a small photograph of Susan Field from his pocket. He had found it upstairs in one of the boxes. It was a head-and-shoulder shot, taken not long ago. Her hair was cut short; she wore a dark, tailored jacket.
‘Can I borrow this? I’ll get a copy made.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I will do my best to find out what happened to Susan, Mr Field. Would you mind if Hannah Rosen looked through her things? She might see something I can’t see. She knew Susan. If there was anything out of place — ’
The cantor nodded, but there was really no hope in his tired eyes, only growing resignation. He had already waited too long to look for anything now, let alone hope.
‘Is there anyone else she was close to? Anywhere else she could have gone? Was there anyone else she knew in England?’
Mr Field shook his head. ‘We talked to everyone we could think of.’
Stefan waited. He could see that the old man was holding back tears. But there were still questions he had to ask, however difficult they were.
‘You know she was going to have an abortion?’
Brian Field shrugged, pushing away the tears.
‘It’s what she said to Hannah, in her letters. I didn’t know before.’ He turned his eyes back to the window. ‘I knew she was unhappy. I didn’t know why. And if I’d asked her she wouldn’t have told me. That’s how it was.’
‘What about the man who was the father?’
‘I know what Hannah told me.’ The words were short and curt.
‘Do you think Hannah was the only person Susan confided in?’
He turned back towards Stefan and nodded again.
‘Yes. It doesn’t say much for us, does it, Sergeant?’
Bewley’s Cafe in Grafton Street was quiet. It was still early. Breakfasters were lingering over morning papers and the waitresses were laying the tables for lunch. Hannah Rosen and Stefan Gillespie sat over empty tea cups. He had asked her to go to Lennox Street to look through the belongings in Susan Field’s room. There was at least a chance she might see something significant that would have meant nothing to him. He had talked about the letters. He had tried to piece together what they said about the time leading up to Susan’s disappearance. Now he had faced the most difficult part of the conversation; telling her that Hugo Keller had left Ireland. There would be no opportunity to ask any questions about the day Susan Field went to the clinic in Merrion Square now, or even to confirm that she really did go there. Hannah saw how uncomfortable he was and that did something to curb her anger, but she also knew he wasn’t revealing everything. She had talked easily before; now there was distance. It wasn’t mistrust, but it was doubt.
‘When did you find out he’d gone?’
‘Yesterday, after I saw you.’
‘From the Special Branch man, Sergeant Lynch?’
‘No, I haven’t seen Lynch again.’
It was an answer, but she could hear it wasn’t the full answer.
‘You just heard?’
‘He’d been released. There were no charges against him. There was nothing to stop him leaving the country. He took the mail boat on Saturday.’
‘He wasn’t wasting any time then.’
‘That’s how it looks.’ Stefan shrugged.
‘You think that’s just a convenient coincidence?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You’re the detective, aren’t you? You’re the one who was going to ask him what happened when Susan went to see him. Isn’t there something a bit odd about the fact that he’s suddenly not here any more? No questions, so no answers, when that’s the last place we definitely know she was going.’
He couldn’t even begin to talk about Hugo Keller and Adolf Mahr, or about the spat that was going on between Special Branch and Military Intelligence. He didn’t know what any of that meant anyway, and if he found out it was hardly likely to be information he could tell anyone else, even Hannah. There were a lot of things going on that might explain Hugo Keller’s abrupt departure. It certainly seemed as if the leader of the Nazi Party and the Garda Special Branch wanted him out of the way. Whether that had anything at all to do with Susan Field’s disappearance five months ago it was impossible to say; it was hard to believe it could do. It really did feel like a coincidence, but even while Stefan thought that he questioned it. As Hannah had put it, it was a very convenient coincidence.
‘You’re not going to tell me everything, are you?’
‘I am going to find out what happened to Susan.’
She smiled. ‘All right. That’ll have to do. For now. I’ll have to put up with it and trust you. But don’t lie to me, please. Will you promise me that?’
‘I’m not going to lie.’
She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.
‘The letters did help though?’ she said.
‘I’m sure it won’t be hard to identify the priest.’ He was trying to find something positive to say, a way to leave all the secrecy and evasion behind.
‘It’s the only place left now, isn’t it? Now that Keller’s gone.’
‘It’s one place.’ He was silent for a moment. There was a question about the letters, Susan’s last letters, that was still in his head.
‘There are things in the letters … I’m talking about how she felt, the last few times she wrote. She was in a very dark place. It doesn’t always sound like that. She was still making jokes, but you know what I mean.’
Hannah was surprised. ‘I’m not sure I do.’
‘She was very unhappy, more than that,’ Stefan continued.
‘Is this mail boat territory again?’ She was tight-lipped.
‘No. Dark places can be dangerous.’
‘Is that from the Garda psychology manual?’
‘When I’m not a guard I’m a human being. Only part-time of course.’
He let his irritation show and it seemed to make her rein in her own.
‘Are you telling me you think she killed herself?’
‘I need to look at it all. I have to try and understand her. You can only have so much emptied out of you
