“Or photographs?”
“None that could possibly have been of any value to you, Mr. Carey,” the priest replied stiffly.
“But there were other photographs?” George insisted.
Father Weichs’s jaw muscles began to twitch. “I repeat, Mr. Carey, that they would have had no bearing on your inquiry,” he said.
“ ‘ Would have had’?” George echoed. “Do you mean they no longer exist, Father?”
“I do. They no longer exist. I burned them.”
“I see,” said George.
There was a heavy silence while they looked at one another. Then Father Weichs got to his feet with a sigh and looked out of the window.
“Friedrich Schirmer was not a pleasant man,” he said at last. “I see no harm in telling you that. You may even have guessed from what I have already said. There were many of these photographs. They were never of importance to anyone but Friedrich Schirmer-and possibly to those from whom he bought them.”
George understood. “Oh,” he said blankly. “Oh, I see.” He smiled. He had a strong desire to laugh.