The Library Paradox by Catherine Shaw

as she does not know the extended community very well, and even their language still holds some difficulties for her. But her husband has lived there for many years, and has a thousand and one friends and acquaintances. It is a strange community: news spreads like wildfire within it, but information from the outside world doesn’t always penetrate, and when itdoes, it is often given a very peculiar slant. People would be much more likely to know about the latest childbirth in the neighbouring street than about the fall of the Prime Minister, and if they did learn about it, they might attribute it to some curious cause that we would never imagine – the evil eye, for instance. Well, let me not exaggerate – they are more or less ordinary people, of course, and they read the newspapers just as we do. What I mean to say is that the community is as ingrown as a village and nobody’s doings within it are likely to remain secret.’
    ‘But what doings are we talking about? The man Jonathan saw may have done nothing more than simply taking an omnibus into town.’
    ‘A trip into London might have been noticed by someone. We’ll just have to feel our way – you are the detective, after all!’
    ‘Well, I guess it will not be any foggier than the beginnings of a certain number of my previous investigations,’ I remarked. ‘We shall see when we get there. Now, if we have had enough of still-rather-liquid rice pudding and only-slightly-cork-flavoured wine, we had better think of going straight to Professor Ralston’s library and attempting our experiment.’
    The three young people leapt up with alacrity, and swept away the dishes in record time. Wrapping ourselves warmly against the pinch of March, we stepped outside and made our way on foot to Adelphi Street. It was by now nearly ten o’clock in the evening and dark as pitch; we had decided that this would be a good time, as it would be too late formany people to be about on the street, yet not so late that passers-by or neighbours might get suspicious at the sight of lights and activity within, and call the police.
    ‘The street gate is locked,’ said Jonathan, rattling it as we drew up. ‘Oh, Vanessa, this is annoying! I hadn’t thought of it; they never used to lock it when the professor lived here. How shall we get in?’
    ‘I have the key,’ I said, taking it out.
    ‘Good work!’ he said admiringly. ‘Ho,’ he added, glancing around, ‘when I think that this is where it all happened! I was right here when the man came out, and just about in the middle there when I saw the other two.’
    Having unlocked and opened the gate, I moved to the place he indicated, at a distance about halfway between the street and the building.
    ‘How can you be sure of the exact spot?’ I asked.
    ‘I wasn’t right near the street nor yet near the house,’ he said, hesitating slightly. ‘The path isn’t long, so I must have been about here.’
    ‘Well, that will give us a little leeway,’ I observed. We walked up the path and entered the building. The great room was not in pitch darkness, for the sky vaguely shone its dim reflection of the city lights through the numerous large windows, which glowed pale in the darkness. Quickly, we lit a few candles we had had the foresight to bring with us. There was a lamp on Edmund’s desk, and we lit that as well. It shed a warm glow, which lifted the shadows.
    Half-consciously, I glanced at the desk in the corner where I had been working earlier in the afternoon.
    ‘Oh, look,’ I remarked, going over to it. ‘I just remembered that I jumped up and rushed out, leaving a mess behind. I had forgotten all about it. Edmund must have piled everything neatly. Oh – I hadn’t realised that I had left my notebook here as well!’
    It lay upon the desk, still open to the page where I had left it, with Professor Ralston’s repulsive list visible to any passers-by. My friends looked into it with interest. At the same time, I noticed to