by Murray Segal
“There you are! I called and when you didn’t answer, I got frightened and came right back. I see by your attire that you were doing what you call jogging.”
“Sorry. I didn’t have my cell with me. And I forgot to take the apartment key with me. Good you are here.”
“Sounds to me like you are in your usual befuddled state of mind.”
“Not kind, woman. You should be impressed with my detective skills for I have uncovered a clue to what makes the MDTW so valuable.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense any longer. What is it that makes it worth more than $250?”
“Hey. I said I found the clue but I didn’t say I knew what it meant. For that we need the sharp mind of a university professor.”
“If you need someone with the highest credentials I will volunteer. But only after I’ve had some lunch. Judging by the dirty dishes in the kitchen you have already eaten. Forget to do them?”
“I was too excited to worry about a detail like that.”
“Show me what you found and I will study it while you make me lunch and do the dishes.”
“I wish you’d get off that kick.” I see the raised eyebrow. “Ok, ok.”
I show her the letters I found which I have written down in the proper sequence. I also show her the actual inserts, again in the original sequence. I leave her alone while I make her a large garden salad. When I have finished, I bring it into the office and plunk it down on the table.
“How’s it going?”
“Give me some time. And don’t stand over me. Wait somewhere else.”
As I walk away, I notice that she is opening the Toshiba. I hope that means she is making progress. A while later she beckons me to appear.
“I know you’re standing just outside the door so come on in now. Sit down over there and you can do the dishes later.”
All this with a smile on her face that tells me she has made some sense out of this jumble of letters.
“Pull up a chair and follow me through my reasoning. If anything does not make sense, let me hear your thoughts. First, the last four letters HANS is clearly a Germanic name.”
“I agree.”
“Um, just let me know when you disagree. Ok?”
“Sorry.”
“Ok. Where did most of the Nazis fleeing Germany at the end of WWII go? They went to Argentina. What is the largest city in Argentina? Buenos Aires. So, I’m thinking the first two letters BA stand for that city. Are you with me?”
“I am.”
“It makes sense to me that the fleeing Nazis brought with them a vast amount of treasure. It couldn’t be cash because the German currency was worthless at that point. It’s not logical they could have laid their hands on any significant amount of gold bullion or precious jewels. Maybe, but I lean toward discarding it as unrealistic for the moment. We do know that Nazis plundered a large collection of artworks. The other letters, PPAZ, I have drawn a blank on. Any ideas?”
“Please excuse me, if I do some thinking out loud. If we accept your idea that the Nazis took artwork to Buenos Aires, how would they likely keep or display it? If it were in a public museum it would be subject to scrutiny by the entire world. They don’t want that. It would be dangerous to hide them away in a storage facility. Besides they would never get the pleasure of looking at them. Therefore, it follows that the treasures are more likely housed in a place owned by a person or group of persons where they can be displayed. If they wanted to, they could invite selected persons in for a private showing. Even try to sell them if they need the money. This suggests to me the conclusion that the letters PPAZ represents a large private building in or near Buenos Aires. A large building where a person or persons live. I am drawing a blank where we go from there. The ball is back in your court.”
“I follow your line of thought. Toshiba to the rescue. Let me do a google search.”
She runs a search on art museums in or around Buenos Aires first. All the museums we find can be accessed by the public. Logically, we rule them out.
“Try a search on large warehouses.”
“Ok.”
That search produces a selection of industrial buildings that would seem unlikely as places to exhibit valuable works of art. It doesn’t make sense to us that anyone in their right mind would store art in a building on the waterfront beside a railroad track. Maybe that would seem so unlikely that it would be a brilliant idea.
“Put that one aside for the moment and we will come back to it if nothing else more promising turns up. Try a search on mansions in the area and see what comes up.”
“Oh, there are quite a large list of mansions there.”
As she scans the list, I see her eyebrows raise, followed by a sharp intake of breath.
“What?”
“I believe our search is over. Look at this one, Palacio Paz. Call the FBI, the State Department, the United Nations, who knows. Pack our bags and let’s go home.”
“Whoa. Not so fast. All we think we know is where some art works are in Buenos Aires. We can’t prove anything and it is not likely that the FBI will do anything but maybe attract some attention our way. I can see it now, Looney Couple in Northern Maine Claim to Know Where WWII Treasure Is. Couple living with False ID Papers. I don’t think we want that to happen. Too risky.”
“Well what do we do?”
“Nothing yet. We should go on about our normal business for the next few days. That will give us some time to develop a rational plan that will get us out of this predicament.”
“Lord, I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Sure, you can. We’ve been up here this long, what’s another few days?”
“Oh alright. But if you see flames coming out of my mouth and steam out of my ears be kind and gentle with me.”
“I promise.”
“Do you have any semblance of a plan lurking in the back of your brain?”
“No. None, at all. That’s why I need some time.”
“Hey dude, it’s three o’clock and we haven’t even had lunch yet. Hold on a minute and I’ll see what the Toshiba says about the subject of pizza. Should be a piece of cake for it after all the hoops we’ve had it jump through today. Ha. Grab your keys, carry me to the car and let’s go to Rosella’s. It’s a bit father then some of the other places but Toshiba gives it a 4.1 rating out of a possible 5.”
“Suits me. Let me go to the potty and throw some cold water on my face and I’ll be ready.”
It’s just a short drive to Rosella’s and when we get there we decide to eat there rather than take it back to the apartment. It’s long after lunch time and well before dinner so the place is quiet and thinly populated.
Our pizza is ready in 20 minutes. It arrives piping hot. (What in the world is piping hot?).
“I must tell the Toshiba that its advice was perfect. English professor, where does piping hot come from?”
“Near as I can remember, it dates to medieval times and refers to the steam that shot out of a spouted tea kettle. Such a device was in use in ancient Mesopotamia.”
“My goodness. The word queen really knows her stuff.”
“A piece of cake for me. You haven’t forgotten that I am a revered professor of English, have you?”
“How could I forget when you remind every hour on the hour like a cu-coo clock?”
“This pizza is wonderful,” says she, deftly changing the subject.
“Yes, it is. Remind me to pat Toshiba on the back when we get home. It’s not the Café Sorpreso but it did the job.”
We finish our meal, compliment the chef, pay our bill and head back to the apartment.
“Revered Professor, I think I have another treat in store for you,” I say when we get home. “Several staff members at the paper recommended a movie to me called The Confirmation. Let’s go to the big screen and watch it in the bedroom.”
The movie co-stars Clive Owen and Jaeden Lieberher. Owen is the farther who has an alcohol problem. Lieberher is his 8-year old son. The boy�
�s mother has divorced his farther who struggles and overcomes the alcohol problem with the help from his son and some from his mom.
“That was a touching story and a good choice, Harry. Thank your friends at the paper for me. The kid was sensational, a natural born actor if I ever saw one. Spoke with looks, his mouth, his eyes and his body. Good job and good night.”
“Is that all. No rewards for serving as social director and solving our riddle?”
“That’s correct. And you haven’t solved the riddle yet. Good start though. Keep up the good work and good night.”
With that and a peck on the lips she is off to sleep in seconds. My mind is in a turmoil as I lay awake. I can’t shut off the constant roller coaster search for a way out of this quagmire. One dead end after another. Hours later I quietly climb out of bed and tip toe to the office. I decide to invest some time in planning Ann’s story for the Herald.
“Good morning, loveman. I tried not to wake you. I take it you were up late? Duty calls and I am off to my post at the U.”
“Really. What time is it?”
“Almost ten.”
“Crap. I’ve got to get to the paper before I’m fired.”
“Don’t you remember? The boss gave you some time off.”
“Oh yeah. I should kick myself in the behind for staying up so late to work on a feature story. Don’t do that. I’ll do it for you when I get home. Bye now. I’m out of here.”
Left by myself, I fall back asleep and don’t wake up until 2 o’clock. Its way past breakfast time, too late for lunch and too early for dinner, so I make myself a combination meal. Pancakes with maple syrup and a steak with sautéed onions. I am so stuffed that I probably won’t eat again today. I need some physical exercise so I put on some little boy pants (shorts to those of you are not up to date on the latest language innovations) and running shoes. I spend several hours jogging to and around Centennial Park. This is the most exercise I’ve had in a long time. It shows. By the time, I get back home I’m out of gas and ready to do nothing. Nothing at all. Before I’ve got the door closed Silvia is on the attack.
“You could have left me a note or called me on the cell to let me know you were going out. I was very worried.”
“You were?”
“Wouldn’t you have been?”
“Yes. I would. Sorry.”
“Apology accepted. I’m going to cook dinner.”
“I’m not too hungry. I’ll just have a salad.”
I really don’t want a salad but I figure it may gain me a few points with her.
“Wonders never cease. I’ll make dinner so you can check out movies for tonight. Or we can watch the Red Sox.”
“Or we can do both.”
As I am munching on my salad, Silvia asks me if I have done my work as social director for the night.
“Indeed, I have. I recommend one of two movies. The first one is Room and the second one is Amelie. I don’t know very much about either one, but we can explore and choose one. And then we will have time to watch all or part of the Red Sox game.”
“Deal. Do the dishes and I will get into something more comfortable.”
Something more comfortable turns out to be her PJ’s. Nothing too exciting there. The Sox win another and appear headed for the World Series. But they appear headed that way every year to devout Sox fans. Who knows? Maybe they win the series and the Patriots take the Super Bowl. The Celtics appear to need a big center or a “go to” guy and I can’t watch hockey on the TV. Or in real life either. Just no interest. I don’t remember much about the movie so maybe I slept through it. That’s been known to happen. We both get a solid eight hours of sleep.
Silvia drops me off at the paper at 8 am and heads for the “U”.
When I get into the press room, Frederick spots me and says, “Hey I thought you were going to take a couple of days off?”
“Days off are like retirement; vastly overrated.”
“I know lots of retired folks who are having the time of their lives.”
“They’re well off, yes?”
“Most of them are comfortable. Have money to travel. Some take up hobbies that they never had time for before.”
“Well I still think retirement is overrated for most people. I am going home to think about some new ideas for major feature stories to cover the gap left by your deep sixing my potato extravaganza.”
I get out the cell phone and call Silvia.
“Are you busy? I don’t want to interrupt whatever you are doing.”
“No problem. I’m just grading some papers. Are you ready to be picked up?”
“That I am. Whenever it is convenient for you.”
“See you in 10 to 15.”
When she does pick me up I talk to her in the car on the way home.
“Hey, kiddo. I need some ideas about stories that I might write to fill the potato gap. Any ideas?”
“Um, yeah. I might. I bought some maple syrup when I stocked up on food. Let me go get it because I remember it came from a local farm. Here it is. The Maple Moose in Easton Maine.”
“Would you like to come along if I can arrange a tour for tomorrow?”
“Sounds like a nice change of pace. Maybe we can get a gallon or two as a sample. Make the story more realistic.”
“Really? How so?”
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll figure out a plausible rationale.”
“Is this the woman who doesn’t eat sugar?”
“Got to have something to put on those pancakes I’m planning to make for breakfast the next thirty days.”
“Funny. I’ll call Maple Moose right now.”
I call and sweet talk them into a tour tomorrow, anytime during the day that I like. I’m beginning to like this job as a reporter. Everyone’s so accommodating.
“It’s all set for tomorrow. I like this job more and more each day. Maybe I’ll consider a new job when we get back home.”
“You think that the name of this place has anything to do with our Moose in Houlton?”
“I rather doubt it but we’ll find out tomorrow.”
“We watch a movie while we are eating dinner. It’s entitled Words and Pictures, starring Clive Owen and Juliette Binoche. At the very end of the film during the credits we look at each other and express the very same thought; does it really have to end now?”
“As social director for this evening you have done a magnificent job, old girl. This might have been the best movie I have ever watched.”
“I agree on both counts. It certainly has put me in a very romantic mood. How about you?”
“I don’t need a movie to put me in a romantic mood. All I need is you.”
“How sweet. Turn out the lights and let’s go to bed.”
Yes ma’am.
I am awakened at seven the next morning by the sound of Silvia clanging pots, pans and dishes around in the kitchen. I stumble out of bed and into the kitchen, half asleep and barely able to find my way.
“What in the world is going on? Why are you cooking in the middle of the night?”
“Go take a shower and open your eyes. It’s seven thirty. Since you are unable to detect what I’m doing, I’ll tell you. I am making the first meal of the day which is called breakfast. You remember what that is don’t you?”
“Very funny. It’s your fault that I’m so groggy. You kept me up half the night with that movie and you know what.”
“Get in the shower, wimp. The pancakes and maple syrup will be ready by the time you are finished.”
“Ok. I want bacon with my pancakes… please.”
“I couldn’t function in the morning without a hot shower. It wakes me up; starts the blood flowing and gets me moving.”
“First, a bang-up job as social director. Next, a bang-up job keeping me up, and now a bang-up job as chef.”
“I won’t touch that. Eat up so we won’t be late for the Kings at Maple Moose.”
“Good, I’ll write that one up when we get back and then go
to our young artist feature. That will keep me busy for a while.”
We are out and on the road by nine and heading toward Easton. I put the MDTW in the back seat and cover it with a jacket that I won’t need.
“I wonder if there is any connection to the fact that the town is located near the eastern border of the state and its name Easton?”
“You’re so sharp this morning. I married a genius. Comforting, indeed. Did you bring the directions?”
“Umm no. I guess I left them home on the piano.”
“That line might have worked in grammar school but not now. Lucky I have their telephone number. Look for a gas station where we can fill up and I’ll call from their pay phone while you do the gas.”
I find a station in a few minutes and fill up the tank while Silvia goes inside and calls the Kings.
“We are not too far. I have the directions and will guide you there. They had out of town newspapers there and I bought a few.”
She tosses the papers into the back seat and we are off. Once we arrive, we are greeted by the Kings. They are a stout appearing couple who are clearly proud of their farm.
“Come on and we’ll show you around the place. You know, of course, that maple syrup season is months away but we have work to do on this place all year. Take care of the equipment and get it in shape, manage the grounds and plan out as best we can next season’s production.”
“How can you do that?” I ask
“We are always growing maple trees. This time of the year, we try to identify which ones will be ready to produce. We must balance that against the market trends so we don’t over produce or under produce. We still consider this a part time job even though we have about 1,000 trees and produce about 500 gallons per year. We use a vacuum collection system and that involves 10 miles of tubing.”
I had no idea producing maple syrup could be so involved.