Searching for Edgar's Five Dancers

by Efren O'brien

  Following Joel’s request, Quinn held onto Five Dancing Women. In the end, Quinn was exonerated from any wrongdoing and was not charged with the shooting of Ethan Clark. He walked out of the police department, after all was said and done, a free man. Although free in the legal sense, Quinn’s conscience would not let him rest. Quinn knew he had several tasks ahead of him to make things right. He started by going to Marika’s hideaway vault above Dempsey’s drugstore. Quinn found the letter she had prepared for him and opened the small safe there. In that room, he found the two small paintings by Jean Metzinger which were an example of the Cubist method. He now had all three works of art that Laszlo Tibor had hired him to find.

  “Laszlo,” or Vitali, was now safely back in Russia where he was returned as the result of a secret “spy for spy” exchange, with our ally The Soviet Union. Quinn however had more work to do. He carefully read the instructions Marika left for him. He took the money in the envelope from her safe and found with the paintings, and he purchased a train ticket to Chicago.

  While the war with Germany was finished in early May, and marked by V-E Day and raucous celebrations on May 8, 1945, most of Europe was destroyed and would require the next 30 to 40 years to rebuild. The war took its toll on the people and cities of Europe, but also caused an incredible impact on the soldiers and citizens of the USA. President Franklin D. Roosevelt didn’t live to witness the unconditional surrender of Germany or Japan. He had served in office as President and as Commander in Chief for a record four terms, beginning in 1933. Although he was perhaps the most important leader of WWII, his health had been in decline for some time, and he died unexpectedly while still in office on April 12, 1945…only a few short weeks before Germany surrendered.

  It was not lost on President Roosevelt before his untimely death that much of Europe’s priceless art had either been stolen, hidden, or destroyed during the war. As the war in Europe was winding down, Roosevelt approved the actual creation of an actual military unit, nicknamed the “Monuments Men.” This specialized small group of mostly art historians, were handpicked to travel throughout Germany and other occupied countries in Europe in an attempt to search and locate art that had been stolen by the Nazis. At the end of the war in Europe, many priceless works of art were recovered in caves, abandoned buildings, and salt mines by The Monuments Men.

  The Allies had defeated Nazi Germany without the need of an atomic bomb, but as it turned out, even though they were defeated in practical terms, the Japanese refused to surrender and continued to fight on. In Europe though, following the surrender of Germany the difficult and complex job of reconstruction began. One of the first tasks of the Allies was bringing those who had committed war crimes and crimes against humanity - to justice. The Nuremberg Trials became known as the main public trials where the most serious Nazi criminals faced justice for their actions during the war.

  Werner Heisenberg and 10 of the top German scientists were not put on trial for their scientific work for Nazi Germany. However, they were captured by the British Special Operations “T-Force,” and were sent to a special prison in England, near Cambridge, named Farm Hall. Here, they were kept by the British in detention, but not in prison cells. They lived in a large estate home and they were allowed to freely associate with one another. The rationale behind this was the British wanted to find out how advanced the Nazi atomic research was at the end of the war. Most interaction and discussion between the German scientists was secretly recorded. Of most concern to the Allies was…How close did the Nazi’s actually come to building an atomic weapon?

  “Werner, have you seen the newspaper today?” Otto Hahn, a German chemist and scientist also interred at Farm Hall, asked Heisenberg on August 6, 1945, “This article says the Allies have dropped an atomic bomb on Japan.”

  “Hiroshima, Japan!” exclaimed Otto Hahn. “I don’t believe it,” said Heisenberg.

  “Good Lord, Werner!” said another captured German physicist, Carl Friedrich von Weizsacker. “It looks like building an atomic weapon was possible after all.”

  “Let me see the newspaper,” said Heisenberg. “It’s just not possible, Carl! The Americans weren’t that far ahead of us in research and development! They had the same problems with an atomic reaction that we had…the processing of enriched uranium. The British are playing a trick on us…they’re playing with our minds. This can’t be true!” said Heisenberg.

  “What if it is true Werner? What if these reports are true? How do you feel about the Americans developing this technology, when we couldn’t?” proffered Hahn.

  “I try not to think about such things, Hahn, and if such thoughts do enter my mind…certainly I do not wish to openly discuss them. My objective was to produce atomic energy for civil use and peaceful purposes. I’m glad we never built a bomb or other device to be used for destruction. But these news articles are not true, I tell you! It would take thousands of people working every hour of every day for years…and an incredible amount of money to build a reactor to even conduct a test for such a reaction. This is nonsense, Hahn. Pure fantasy!” said Heisenberg.

  chapter LXii

  It took him 10 days in all and two long-distance, otherwise dull, train rides…but he brought the three works of art back to the Volks Galleria on Chicago’s Northside. Quinn knew these paintings would fetch an untold amount of money…probably in South America or maybe even Asia. But he owed it to Marika as well as the victims who had their artwork stolen right before their eyes, losing their personal property, homes, and most likely their lives in some Nazi concentration camp. He simply smiled and handed the pastel and paintings over to the curator with the letter Marika had written. The curator, Ms. Harper, nearly fell over when she saw the artwork. A few seconds later she broke down in tears when she read the letter. “Mr. Chase, the major museums of Europe and Metropolitan Art Societies of Chicago and New York will pay you a reward for these paintings. It will take some time, but you’re entitled to a reward for returning these priceless paintings. I promise you you’ll get it…I won’t rest until you do. It will be substantial too,” she said.

  “That’s not why I brought these here,” Quinn replied.

  Quinn spent the night in Chicago, attending a show at the famous Conga Room, and then he boarded the train for the long ride back to Albuquerque in the morning. As the train left the station bound for the West, Quinn thought, I’ve honored the wishes of a Nazi spy. She was an enemy of my country…but all in all she was one of the most honest people I’ve ever known, dammit!

  When Quinn returned from Chicago, he was lost, and found himself spending more and more time in Albuquerque, and at his old hangout, The 9:15. Despite the herculean efforts he had made for others and his country, he was basically right where he was four years ago—middle-aged, depressed, and alone. The two woman he had emotional connections with were gone for good. So now, as far as Quinn was concerned the first order of business for him was simply to …drink more bourbon.

  The police department in Santa Fe had made an offer to him to start work again as a detective. Amazingly it was Lt. Frank Huff who was the driving force who pushed to have Quinn’s badge reinstated. Huff even said, “I have to admit Chase, you’re one hell of a detective! I’d be honored to work with you!” So at least there was some bright spot on the horizon. But before Quinn could even consider joining any police force again – he knew he still had several tasks to perform. If his plan worked he might actually find peace in his life, and things might get back to normal. But if he failed…Quinn probably wouldn’t ever have much of a life or a future and he knew it.

  Chapter LXIii

  Quinn went to his former office on Cerillos Road to clean his desk out and get his personal effects. He had an odd feeling walking into the building where he and Ethan had spent so much time together, when in the end it turned out he didn’t really know his partner at all. He put all of his belongings and the pictures on the walls in two boxes and brought them out to his new Buick placing them in the backseat.
The weather was strange for a day in the month of November—the sun shined brightly. Quinn had received a sizable reward for returning the three paintings by Metzinger and Degas; a $6,500 certified check.. This was an enormous sum of money in 1945. Hell, I don’t have any retirement from the police department, Quinn thought. This could be my retirement! Then he thought again, No, it wouldn’t be right.

  He was preparing to move back to Albuquerque, so he thought he’d take a sentimental drive around Santa Fe. With all that had gone down the last few months, Quinn knew he needed time and space to think things through.

  First, he drove to the Plaza. The streets surrounding the plaza were mainly cobblestone. He parked and walked to the east side facing the empty storefront that used to be Joel and Katrina’s art gallery. I wonder where they are now? I hope they’re safe. Maybe I’ll get a letter from her someday.

  The overhead sign had been removed. The place was now empty, and masking tape crisscrossed the front window. He walked over and faced the large Cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi on the east side. The imposing Catholic church was constructed in the late 1800s with the large sand stones from a nearby quarry. It was an incredible monument to see, even to Quinn who wasn’t particularly religious. He wasn’t sure when he’d be back again. He knew he would miss the quaint adobe architecture and the unique people of this small city. He also knew there were a couple of things he had to do before getting on the road back home—Albuquerque.

  It was about one in the afternoon. He drove up Cordova Street to the community center where most days Skitts Jones could be found card-sharkin’. He parked in the lot outside and walked in. It was quiet…a few people sitting around in the front room listening to the various programs on the radio. Today they featured Edgar Bergen the ventriloquist with sidekick Charlie McCarthy. This was a comedy act and the act was popular at the time. Then there was slow, ballad-type music for a lazy day at the center. Quinn could hear a few loud voices emanating from the back card room however, when he walked in. It seemed like the card games were just getting started. He walked into the backroom where the card tables were set up, and there, in the far left corner, was the unmistakable Fedora and noticeable laugh of Skitts Jones. “You boys can try your best today…but I got a feelin’!” laughed Skitts as he shuffled the deck and started to deal.

  Quinn approached the table from the side while drawing looks from other players in the room. “Hey, I hear that Skitts Jones is a real sucker for somebody who knows how to bluff!” Quinn said with a raised voice.

  Skitts’ eyebrows shot up. “Well, I hear that Detective Chase puts his money where his mouth is. And he’s gonna’ sit right down here and give

  us all a lesson on the finer points of poker!” laughed Skitts.“What’s goin’ on detective?”

  “Life’s been interesting, Skitts. I was just wonderin’ if you had a few minutes. I won’t take your whole afternoon up.”

  “I wouldn’t disrupt my activities for just anyone, but for you, detective…I think I can spare some time,” he said while laughing again.

  They left the center and walked to Clifton Park where they had talked before. “So what do I owe the honor of this visit to?” Skitts asked.

  “I just wanted to say thanks for all your information and help,” said Quinn. “Remember you tipped me off about The Merchant?”

  “Oh, yeah, he was supposedly the dude running the art smuggling around here,” replied Skitts.

  “You’re not gonna believe this…it turns out The Merchant was my former partner at our PI firm. He was workin’ for the Nazis the entire time. It didn’t end well for him,” said Quinn.

  “Boy, I bet those paintings are worth lots of money,” said Skitts.

  “Yeah…but they’re contraband,” said Quinn. “What’s more, the art was taken from Jewish families overseas who probably made the ultimate sacrifice themselves in the end. The government and everybody and his brother is tryin’ to track these paintings down. Well, I went to Chicago and turned over a couple of paintings I had. It was the right thing to do, and they gave me a reward. I think it’s only right I share some of it with you,” said Quinn.

  “Detective you’re always full of surprises, but Skitts definitely believes in the concept of sharing!”

  “Thanks for your helpful tips during the case,” Quinn said as he placed three $100 bills in Skitt’s shirt pocket. “I’m leavin’ town soon, and I think I’m gonna try another line of work,” said Quinn. “This type of work wears on you…know what I mean?”

  “I can imagine,” said Skitts.

  The two men talked for a few more minutes while walking back to Quinn’s car. Skitts thanked Quinn, and the two shook hands and said their goodbyes. Quinn’s parting words were, “If you come back to Albuquerque, you’ll find me at The 9:15. Stop in some time, and we’ll have a few. I’ll be sitting at the south end. It’ll be my treat.”

  “Detective, you know I owe you one, or two! You take care of yourself!” said Skitts as he turned to walk back into the building. Quinn got into his newly acquired car and drove out knowing he had one more thing to do before he could leave Santa Fe.

  He drove south down several streets hoping to find Dixie and Haley. He figured maybe he’d drive down to the river area and look for them. He was headed south down St. Francis Drive when he saw Dixie off on the left side of the street. She was looking through some odds and ends that had been dumped in a vacant lot there. Haley was standing off to the side. Quinn pulled over to the side of the road, got out, and approached the two.

  “Hi, Quinn,” Dixie finally said, looking up with a smile. Haley smiled and waved to him.

  “I was hoping to find you two. How about joining me for a little ride? There’s something I want to show you,” Quinn said.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Well, I’ll show you. Come on…we won’t be that long. You two sit in the back. I’ll bring you right back here when we’re done.”

  The mother and daughter both had a worn-down and disheveled look about them as though they’d been out in the elements for some time.

  Haley asked, “Are we gonna ride in that car, mommy?”

  Dixie nodded and guided her daughter to the back door of Quinn’s new 1945 Buick. The two of them got in the backseat. They started out and drove for about three miles towards the west side of town. The paved road turned to a dirt road. The area was just open land with no buildings of any kind in sight. Finally, they saw a sign on the right side of the road that read Country Estates.

  “What’s this?” asked Dixie.

  “New homes being built for the returning soldiers and their families,” Quinn answered. The dirt street they drove down had small lots on both sides with construction equipment and piles of stacked wood. Construction on many homes had already started. There was one small four-room house on one of the lots that was almost complete. Quinn drove down the street almost to the very end, then stopped his car in front of one of the barren dirt lots. There were some 2x4’s stacked up in the center and a cement mixer on the lot.

  Quinn turned around and looked at both of them in his back seat. “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

  Dixie had a perplexed look. “Think about what?”

  “This is gonna’ be the site of your new home, Dixie. It’s for both of you. You’re gonna’ have a house to live in. Move here from the river and start a new life. You’re gonna’ sleep in your own beds at night…that have sheets! I came into some money recently and worked a deal out with Mr. Harris, the developer of these homes, and Santa Fe Savings and Loan. I want you two to live here and own it. You deserve a new start.

  It was as if Dixie had been placed in sudden shock. She and Haley both stared out the window of Quinn’s car at the basic framework of the small home before them. For over a minute Dixie didn’t say a word and barely even blinked. Then, tears welled up in Dixie’s eyes and began to stream down her face.

  Chapter LXiv

  Unlike Santa Fe, Albuquerque had a barre
n and cold look in November of 1945. But by all reasonable expectations, Quinn should have still been riding a positive wave of emotion. World War II was over, and the Allies had won two great victories on different sides of the world. Hundreds of thousands of war veterans were coming home after sacrificing nearly everything in their hard-fought victories over Germany and Japan. Quinn had nearly singlehandedly solved the Degenerate Art ring in Santa Fe and became a hero in the process. The Santa Fe Police Department had made an employment offer to Quinn to work again as a detective. Quinn was finally recognized for his accomplishments. And he had just separated himself from his personal savings by performing a selfless act for two people he barely knew. And yet he wasn’t done yet. He had one more thing to do before he could ever work on any police force again.

  Quinn went to The 9:15 just after noon that day. He ordered two Old Fashioned’s each with double shots of bourbon. He knew he was ready as he borrowed some mouthwash to cover the scent of the booze. At about 2:00 p.m. he left the bar and drove to the Albuquerque Police Department, about two miles away. There was virtually no one in the lobby. He knew where he was going, so he walked up the staircase to the third floor. He headed for the office of Police Chief, Brock Garrett.

  “Hello, my name is Quinn Chase…I’m a former detective and I used to be on the APD. I’m an old friend of Chief Garrett,” Quinn said to the new secretary. “I just thought I’d stop in and say hello…I’m sure he’ll be interested in seeing me.”

  “It depends if he has the time. Otherwise you’ll have to make an appointment and come back!” said the secretary. She walked into Garrett’s office and closed the door.