Free The Library Paradox by Catherine Shaw Page B

said.
    ‘It was before, for he could really say nothing about his life in the City at home, nor even use the language he spoke there, and even less the other way. The meeting with our cousin was a blessing. David was afraid that she would not agree to move to the East End and adopt the way of life of a Hassidic woman, but she said that she was ready to do it. And she did it. She has borne two children since their marriage three years ago. She almost never leaves the rickety little flat in Settles Street, and spends all of her energies in making a home for her family. On top of this, she has had to struggle to learn Yiddish, and the many religious rituals she is expected to know. She says she still feels like an outsider, but things have become progressively better for her thanks to motherhood, and to all of her efforts and good will. As for David, she is a godsend, since of course he is able to talk to her about the different aspects of his life, and she can help and advise him in what you may call the strictly British aspect as no
shtetl
woman ever could.’
    ‘But do you suppose that your cousin and her husband would be willing or able to help us look for the mysterious rabbi?’ I asked doubtfully.
    ‘It depends,’ intervened Jonathan. ‘We have not seen them much recently, but we were debating in what way we could ask them for help. It would have to be a question offinding the rebbe in order to warn or exonerate him, and not in order to turn him over to the police – their help would certainly only be on that condition, Vanessa! Anyway, that is what I want, myself. I cannot believe for one moment, not for one single second that the rebbe I saw murdered that awful professor.’
    ‘And yet …’ I said.
    ‘I know, I know,’ he answered quickly. ‘Yet the strange time element remains in his defence.’
    ‘The reconstruction of the crime will help us determine what might really have happened,’ said Emily eagerly. ‘Perhaps we shall come up with a new possibility!’
    We separated upon this, and I retired to my room to write my impressions of the day. We have decided to attempt the reconstruction tomorrow night, just as soon as it is late enough for the streets to be empty and the light gone. Furthermore, Jonathan and Amy have agreed to pay a visit to their cousins tomorrow, in order to explain the situation, and to suitably prepare the ground so that they may receive me the day after tomorrow, should they be willing to help us.
    My goal for tomorrow, before the evening, is to devote myself to searching out anything I can about James Wilson from the newspapers of 1886, as well as trying to find and read whatever I can locate of Professor Ralston’s own writings. The task will be time-consuming and arduous, I know it from having performed similar ones in the past, but experience has shown me that it can be astonishingly rewarding. The amount of ‘secret’ knowledge which is actually in the public domain is, seemingly, immeasurable.

London, Friday, March 13th, 1896
    I arose eagerly this morning, ready to begin with my projects. Emily and her friend were already up when I entered the tiny kitchen, preparing a modest breakfast of toast and tea, improved by a pot of home-made jam from Amy’s parents. We did not dally long, nor even exchange many words; even while devoting a corner of my mind to the pleasure of finding myself in London, I was girding myself up mentally for the day that lay ahead of me. Emily was on her way to a class, and Amy to see an editor, so we all three left the house together, and separated in the street below. I made my way immediately to the British Library.
    After three hours of research amongst fusty yellow pages from a decade ago, I began to feel the need for a light meal, and I considered taking a break even though I had as yet found absolutely nothing on the subject of James Wilson. I had, however, come across an article or two by Professor Ralston, which I had read with great