“You promised that they would live!”
“And they will. I have no doubt the Polish authorities will be contacted eventually when you miss your next important phone call. They will discover the disaster, dig, and God willing, find your friends alive.”
Acton jabbed a finger at him. “You better hope that’s how it works out, or there’s no way we’re cooperating.”
The man chuckled, turning in his seat to face them as he drew his MP-443 Grach pistol, pointing it at Acton. “Tough words, professor, but I only need one of you.”
Laura squeezed Acton’s hand. “Kill him, and I’ll tell your client it’s a fake.”
The man smiled. “Which is why, Professor Palmer, you will be the one I kill.” He stared at Acton. “So, Professor, if you want your wife to survive the day, you’ll cooperate, regardless of what just happened back there. Understood?”
Acton didn’t respond, allowing the helpless rage written on his face to do his talking.
21
Potsdam, Germany
Tommy Granger drew a deep breath of courage, exchanging a nervous glance with Mai. All of the information he’d found, indicated this house belonged to the daughter of the late Hermann Lang, the train engineer his great-grandfather thought was murdered to cover up what the professors had discovered yesterday.
The Amber Room, plus millions in gold and other priceless works of art.
He had never heard of the Amber Room, though when he looked it up, he had to admit it was impressively gaudy. Definitely not his style, though he could appreciate the craftsmanship that had gone into such a thing, especially the fact it was all designed to be lit by candles.
He loved candles. He wasn’t sure why, but he always had one burning in his room, and had been thrilled to discover Mai was also into them, especially the little tealight ones. When she wanted to be romantic, he’d show up at her apartment and find hundreds of the things lit everywhere, with her standing in the middle of the room with something naughty on.
Or nothing.
I am sooo lucky!
She was outwardly shy, though once they had become comfortable with each other, she had opened up in ways he never could have imagined, and they were now almost inseparable. And much to his surprise, he now found himself daydreaming of what life with her would be like. Marriage, children, growing old.
He shivered.
“Are you okay?”
He shrugged, wondering if he’d ever find the courage to tell her how he really felt about her. “Just nervous, I guess.”
“Well, let’s get it over with.”
Tommy sighed then rang the doorbell, a colorful chime echoing on the other side of the door. He heard footsteps, and a woman he’d consider old, though she’d probably take offense if she thought he felt that way, answered the door.
She said something in German, and Tommy’s phone translated the inquisitive greeting.
“Umm, sorry, but do you speak English?”
The woman nodded, her eyes narrowing. “Yes, I taught it in school.”
Tommy breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God! My name is Tommy Granger, this is my, umm, friend, Mai Trinh. We were hoping to talk to you about who we think was your father, Hermann Lang.”
The women’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping slightly. “That was my grandfather.” She tilted her head slightly, suspicion on her face. “What is this about?”
“We have possible information on what happened to your grandfather. Apparently, my great-grandfather investigated his disappearance.”
The woman’s hand darted to her mouth, tears filling her eyes. “You know what happened to my opa?”
Tommy shrugged. “Possibly.”
The woman stepped back. “Please, come in. My mother will want to hear this, but she isn’t well. Do you mind coming upstairs to see her?”
Tommy shook his head. “Not at all.”
He let Mai go ahead, and they both followed the woman up the narrow stairs, the humble home well kept, though with the bones of something that could have pre-dated the war. They were led into a room at the end of the hall, an old lady, a truly old lady, lying in a bed, propped up on pillows, smiling broadly at the prospect of visitors. She appeared frail, though she seemed all there mentally as a brief conversation took place in German between the two women.
The old lady’s face brightened considerably at something said, and she turned to Tommy and Mai. “You know what happened to my father?”
Tommy gulped. “Well, we’re not sure of all the details, umm…”
Mai saved him, pulling several file folders from her bag, presenting them to the granddaughter. “These are files we found among Tommy’s great-grandfather’s possessions.” She pointed at the top file. “There’s a letter in there that he wrote about a case he had been working on before the end of the war. He had hoped to tell the families what he had discovered, but circumstances prevented him.”
The old woman beckoned them closer. “Tell me, children, what did he discover?”
Tommy stepped nearer, Mai at his side. “Well, I’m afraid it’s bad news. We think your father is dead.”
The old woman laughed, her daughter joining in. “I should hope so, young one! If not, he’d be in that record book named after the beer.”
Tommy suppressed a smile. “Of course, you’re right, I just meant, at the time.”
The joy in the room faded, and the woman’s daughter sat on the edge of the bed, taking her mother’s hand. “Please, tell us what you know.”
“My great-grandfather, Detective Inspector Wolfgang Vogel, apparently was neighbors with your family, ma’am. Your mother asked him to investigate the disappearance of your father, and he agreed. In the course of his investigation, he discovered another train engineer—that’s what your father was—who was friends with your family, a Dieter Maier—”
“Maier! I remember that name. I used to play with their boys!” The old lady’s eyes filled with tears, as if she were reliving a different time.
“Mr. Maier indicated that a train engineer had been killed three nights before, and he had been sent to retrieve the locomotive.”
“And you think this dead engineer was my father?”
Mai nodded. “We suspect so, but we haven’t confirmed it yet.”
“Well, how could you?”
Tommy sucked in a deep breath, and Mai took his hand, squeezing it. “Well, ma’am, we think we may have found your father yesterday.”
Both women gasped, clasping at each other. “Where?” asked the daughter.
“Our professors, James Acton and his wife Laura Palmer, are in Poland right now. They followed information found in my great-grandfather’s notes, and found treasure buried in an old mineshaft that they think was hidden there by the SS near the end of the war. They think the SS killed your father because he knew of its location.”
The old lady’s eyes were wide. “Buried treasure?”
Mai smiled, patting Tommy’s hand. “Not exactly buried. You’ll have to forgive my friend, he’s too big a fan of pirates. As I’m sure you’re aware, the Nazis stole thousands of pieces of art during the war, and much of it hasn’t been found. Over the past seventy years, troves of art have occasionally been found, and yesterday a major discovery was made, along with several dozen bodies, including one wearing a train engineer’s uniform. Those bodies have been taken to be identified, and as soon as we have confirmed if the engineer is indeed your father, you will be notified.”
“Do you really think it could be him?”
Tommy nodded. “My great-grandfather believed your father was murdered by the SS at this location, and it makes sense that they’d put the bodies inside the mineshaft before sealing it, so they wouldn’t have to deal with them.”
“This makes sense.” The old lady looked up at her daughter, tears filling her eyes. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to finally put your opa to rest beside Oma?”
A sobbing response was all she received as her daughter collapsed int
o her arms, her shoulders heaving as her mother gently patted her back. A tear rolled down Mai’s cheek, and Tommy’s throat ached as he resisted the urge to join in.
“I-I’m sorry if I upset you.”
Their host rose, shaking her head as she wiped her cheeks dry on the back of her hands. “Oh no, you didn’t. These are tears of joy. Our family for three generations has always wondered what happened to my grandfather, and now we may finally have an answer, no matter how tragic.”
Tommy said nothing, not sure of what to do now that he had delivered the information. Mai pointed at the folders.
“Those are yours to keep. They are copies of all the original documents kept by Tommy’s great-grandfather as they related to your case and that of Mr. Maier’s. Our contact information is in there as well, should you have any questions.”
The old lady nodded. “Have you spoken to the Maiers yet?”
Tommy shook his head. “No, we’re going there next.”
She smiled. “They were good friends to the family, that much I remember. Please, if you find them, will you tell them how to reach me? I would love to speak to them if possible.”
“Absolutely.”
The woman fell back into her pillows, her hand on her chest. “Oh, forgive these old bones. I’m afraid all this excitement has taken it out of me today.”
Tommy suddenly felt concerned, stepping closer. “I’m sorry, is there anything I can do?”
She smiled, reaching out for his hand. He took hers, and she squeezed it with surprising strength. “Young man, you have made an old lady very happy today. To finally know what happened to my father is a great comfort. I had always feared he had somehow survived the war, wondering about what had happened to us, and living out his remaining days worrying needlessly. Now I know his life ended tragically, but he did not suffer the pain of losing his family.” Her shoulders shook. “I die content now, knowing that I will see him again very soon, and that I didn’t fail as a daughter by not finding my papa.”
Tommy bowed slightly, again not sure of what to say. Mai saved him once more.
“We’ll let you get your rest now. When we know more, we’ll contact you.”
Pleasantries were exchanged, and Tommy breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind them. Mai gave him a big hug. “You did good today.”
He hugged her back. “We did good today.” He smiled down at her. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. You’re like my rock.”
“We make a good team.”
His smile widened. “Yes, we do.” He led her to the car, opening the door for her.
“Such a gentleman!”
He grinned and closed the door before climbing into the driver’s side. He pulled out his phone. “I better call Professor Acton and give him an update.”
Mai nodded. “Good idea. Maybe he’ll have an ETA on the identification of the remains.”
Tommy held the phone to his ear, his eyes narrowing as it went immediately to voicemail. “That’s odd.”
“What?”
“It’s going straight to voicemail.”
Mai shrugged. “What’s so odd about that? Maybe they don’t have a signal inside the mine.”
Tommy shook his head. “No, they had set up a relay this morning to make sure they could get a signal while they worked.” He dialed Professor Palmer’s phone, and it too went straight to voicemail. “I can’t reach either of them.” He grabbed his laptop and went to work, Mai leaning closer, always fascinated by his skills.
“What are you doing?”
“Accessing the Polish telecom network.”
Mai’s eyes widened. “Is that wise?”
Tommy laughed. “Probably not, but what are they going to do? We’re in Germany, and in a couple of days, we’ll be back in the US, and they’ll still be looking for someone in Indonesia.”
“Huh?”
“I’m bouncing—never mind, I’m in. Look!” He pointed at the map now displayed showing active cellular signals in the area surrounding the mine, his fears confirmed.
“What am I looking at?”
“A dead zone.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a zone where there are no cellphone signals, and it’s surrounding the mine. There’s none at all in the entire area.”
“Maybe nobody’s making a call right now?”
“That’s not how cellphones work. They’re constantly connecting to the network so that when someone is trying to call a specific number, the network already knows where to route it.” He tapped the screen. “But not here. That means either nobody at the mine has a cellphone, or they’re all turned off. And neither of those options is likely in today’s day and age.”
“Or they’re all inside, and the booster or whatever you called it, is malfunctioning.”
Tommy frowned. “Yeah, I guess that’s possible.” He gave her a look. “You really know how to suck the fun out of my conspiracy theories.”
She patted his leg. “Someone has to keep you grounded.”
“I’m glad it’s you.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss meant to be a peck, but she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in, the peck turning into a torrid, passion-filled make-out session igniting the fire down below. He pushed her away, gasping for breath. “We better stop, or we could get arrested.”
Her chest was heaving, and she had an animalistic look to her that had excitement surging through him. “Hotel?”
He grinned. “Good idea!” He started the car then paused. “I still think something is wrong in Poland.”
“You’re just being your usual paranoid self.”
He pulled into traffic, pressing the accelerator a little harder, eager to reach the hotel. “You know them. They’re always getting into something.”
Mai nodded, a hand creeping up his leg, slowly sending his heart racing along with the speedometer. “I tell you what. When we get back to the hotel, you check that map again. If there’s still nothing on it, then we’ll call Dean Milton. He’ll know what to do.”
Tommy gasped as her hand struck pay dirt. “Maybe we check the map after we, you know…”
Mai squeezed. “Sounds good to me!”
22
Bosko Residence
Kwidzyn (formerly Marienwerder), Poland
Helena knocked on the basement door leading to her son’s apartment, a load of laundry under one arm. “Stefan, are you decent?”
No reply.
She was pretty sure she had heard him stumble in this morning, and his car was parked at an embarrassing angle at the end of the driveway. In fact, she was certain she had heard voices, and video games being played.
She knocked again then opened the door when she still heard nothing.
A wall of stench greeted her. “My God, what have you been doing down here?” It smelled like a backed up sewer, and became progressively stronger as she descended the stairs. She rounded the corner and the laundry basket dropped with her jaw as she saw her precious boy lying on the floor, his hands and feet bound, his mouth covered with tape.
She screamed, then rushed forward. “Oh my God! What happened!” She dropped to her knees beside him, discovering the source of the smell, her poor boy having soiled himself from both ends. “What do I do?”
He stared at her, yelling against his gag, and she decided rather than calling the police right away, she’d better help him breathe. She grabbed a corner of the tape covering his mouth and gently pulled at it. Stefan jerked his head to the side, ripping it off in one swift motion, yelping with pain before dropping his exhausted head to the carpet.
“What happened? Who did this?”
“Nobody. Nobody did anything!”
“Please, Stefan, tell me what’s going on!”
Her son’s eyes filled with tears and terror as he pleaded with her. “I can’t! We can’t tell anyone what happened!”
“But why? We need to call the police!”
He shook his head vehemently. “No! Absolut
ely not! They’ll kill us, they’ll kill us all!”
Officer Jelen rang the doorbell of the simple home, the cream-colored paint in desperate need of a refresh, whoever lived here apparently either down on their luck, not concerned with appearances, or unable to find someone to do the work.
The door was answered by a larger woman, well-kempt in well-worn clothing, suggesting to him she was struggling to make ends meet, rather than not concerned with appearances.
Her eyes bulged at the sight of his and his partner’s uniforms. “Yes?”
Her voice trembled, beyond what he would expect his uniform to produce. Something was definitely wrong here. “Ma’am, I’m Officer Jelen. This is my partner Officer Krakowski. We had several reports from your neighbors that they heard someone scream. Are you all right?”
The woman paled.
Definitely something wrong.
“Y-yes, it was nothing. My son, he, umm, played a practical joke on me. I, umm, don’t worry, I scolded him properly. It won’t happen again.”
Bullshit.
“May we speak to your son?”
“He’s in the shower.”
“We can wait.”
“He-he’ll be a while. You know how boys are.”
“Uh-huh.” A mental image of someone masturbating in the shower flashed, and he pushed it away. “I’m afraid I’ll have to insist on speaking with him.”
The woman’s eyes widened further, but she stepped aside, inviting them inside. “Oh, all right.” She closed the door then climbed several steps to the second floor. “Stefan, I need you to come downstairs!”
“Give me a minute, I’m still covered in shit!”
Jelen’s eyebrows shot up as he glanced at his partner. “What did he just say?”
The woman was nervous again. “Oh, just an expression.”
Jelen was about to dismiss it when he finally noticed the smell.
Shit.
“Do you smell that?”
His partner nodded. “Yup.”
“What happened here, ma’am? Please tell us so we can help you.”
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