The Heritage Paper

by Derek Ciccone

  Flensburg was crawling with Allied troops, so Otto made the risky move to take Eva across the border into Denmark, where they found a deserted farmhouse. He spent seven long days holed up with Eva Braun and her nonsensical conversation. But they also formed a bond that would last the rest of their lives.

  On May 10 they crossed back into Germany to meet up with Himmler. Otto always had a laugh at how history recorded Himmler as taking the southern route and being caught by the bumbling Brits, before supposedly committing suicide. That route was a certain death trap, especially with Eisenhower’s obsession with the Führer’s redoubt in the Bavarian Alps. For the tale to be true, one must believe that the world’s most conniving plotter didn’t have a post-war plan. But Himmler made sure his doppelganger was on that route. He was the one captured by the British and splashed across the world’s newspapers upon “Himmler’s” suicide.

  Ironically, they used British built planes from the Air Squadron 3KG200 to flee Germany. It was no coincidence that Himmler had used his SS powers to move the planes to Flensburg near the end of the war. They flew to Britain where they hid amongst the mass celebration of the Allied victory. In Britain, they mastered their new identities and received enough plastic surgery to make a Hollywood actress envious. When the time was right, they moved to the United States without receiving a second look.

  Rose remained nostalgic. “I want to thank you for taking me with you, Otto—the United States was good for me. I missed Adolf, and my sister Gretl, but for the first time I really became who I was supposed to be. Not somebody’s girlfriend or somebody’s daughter. I was Rose Shepherd.”

  Otto almost laughed out loud at the contradiction of someone who “found themselves” while using a false identity. Spy humor. He could relate.

  He couldn’t deny that playing Rose Shepherd was Eva’s greatest acting job. It came quite naturally to her—her whole life was an act—and she pursued it professionally in the late 1940s and into the 50s, even getting a couple of roles in off-Broadway plays. And if she wasn’t in front of the camera, she was behind it. Her friends in Germany had called her Rolleiflex Girl, after the popular camera of the time. She did her own darkroom processing and most of the color stills often seen of the Führer, along with the campy home movies that showed him in the Bavarian Alps, were the work of Eva.

  And even though she had many doubters within the Apostles, she proved her importance when she volunteered to silence Greta Peterson—sacrificing her own freedom so that Greta couldn’t share the secrets of the Apostles with the world, as she planned.

  Otto knew that time was getting short. “I believe we must part ways now, Eva.”

  Her expression was of acceptance. She nodded slightly, and said, “My mother only made it to ninety-six. I beat her by three years.” She smiled. “I already died at thirty-three … at least that’s what people think.”

  He removed the glass vials of cyanide from the pocket of his overcoat and handed them to her. She stared at the vials for a moment and then looked up at him.

  “Would it be okay if I finished my book first? I only have one chapter left.”

  He had no worries that she wouldn’t go through with it. And he wanted to be far away when her body was discovered, anyway. Before he left, she removed her necklace and handed it to him.

  It was a gold cross with v^988v^ on it and her apostle name James The Less carved in the back. Otto put it in the pocket of his coat. They traded final smiles as he left, and then Eva Braun returned to her book’s final chapter.

  ***

  Eva finished her novel. In the end, the two lovers found each other after years of being kept apart. She saw it as another example of art imitating life. She set the book down on the nightstand and placed the glass vial in her mouth. She bit down, eager to join her love in eternity.

  She soon found herself in the Alps on a chilly autumn day with him beside her. His arm was wrapped around her as she snapped photos of the leaves as they blew off a tree in the distance. And when the final leaf released from the tree, her story had come to an end.

  Chapter 46

  Veronica read the signs.

  Jamie bouncing off the walls. Maggie whining.

  She knew exactly what this meant—it was nine o’clock and they hadn’t eaten since lunch, which according to Veronica’s watch, was three lifetimes ago. They needed to eat or this was going to get ugly.

  Zach remained behind the wheel, and had his own parental radar working. Without prodding, he suggested they grab a bite at “the best restaurant in New York.”

  Veronica was surprised when he drove off the island of Manhattan. She was expecting a swanky uptown eatery Zach might have frequented when he worked for Newsbreaker. Twenty minutes later they arrived at the Palisades Mall in West Nyack, and Zach announced they were going to the Rainforest Café. This was a big hit with Maggie and Jamie, whose surliness instantly turned to glee. It was their favorite.

  Zach explained that he often took TJ here, and Maggie once mentioned her fondness for the themed restaurant on one of her visits. Veronica was impressed.

  They moved past all the typical mall stores until they arrived at the restaurant, where they were greeted by trumpeting elephants, squawking birds, and erupting volcanoes. They were seated beside a robotic, chest-pounding gorilla that Jamie thought resembled Eddie. They ordered a “Paradise Pizza” for everyone to split, but Maggie had to be different and got an order of “rasta pasta.”

  Shouting over the simulated thunder, Maggie and Jamie asked if they could check out the large marine aquarium built into the back wall. But before Veronica was able to instruct them that they wouldn’t be allowed out of her sight until they turned fifty, they were already halfway to the fish tank.

  She began to order them back to the table, but Zach encouraged her to let them go.

  Veronica gave in. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep one eye on them at all times. They did look like they were having fun, though.

  Zach sipped on his fruity drink, and intently viewed the landscape.

  “What is it?” Veronica asked.

  “Nothing Nazi related. I just see all these young families and couples, and it makes me think how simple things were back then.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I went on my first date last night since Carsten died, and it was one big awkward mess.”

  “Wow—congratulations.” He caught himself. “On the date part, not the mess.”

  “Thanks, but I didn’t get promoted to department manger, I just took in a film festival with a guy I met in one of my classes at Pace. I went back to school to get my masters.”

  Zach tried to hide his reaction, but he wasn’t a very good actor, so she answered the question he wanted to ask, “He’s twenty-three.”

  He smiled. “You gotta be young to keep up with you. I don’t think I’ve had a day this crazy since, well … I don’t think I’ve ever had a day like this.”

  “Just a typical day in the life of a single mom,” she said, returning the smile. She appreciated his demeanor. Eddie would have made a clawing motion, including sound effects, and called her a cougar.

  “So how did you meet Carsten?”

  “College—NYU. He was a business major from an upscale Nazi family,” she made a bad attempt at humor—she could-a sworn she used to be somewhat witty. “We dated all four years and we were married soon after. Then Maggie came along and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since.”

  “Kids change everything,” he said with the look of experience. “Sounds like he’ll be a tough guy to replace.”

  “You don’t replace the past—you just look to the future. And hope one day you don’t learn that the past is plotting to kidnap your children and take over the world.”

  He laughed. “Having met your mother and Maggie, I think it’s safe to say you’re the funny one in the family.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment … I think. How about you and your wife?”

  “I’m origin
ally from Michigan, but my first job out of college was with the Arizona Republic newspaper. I couldn’t get access to the Detroit Lions games in Phoenix, so I would go to a local sports bar to watch them. Sara was a waitress there. Long story short, we fell in love, got married, had TJ. We moved to New York when I got the job with Newsbreaker. You can read the rest in the police reports.”

  Veronica was half listening—maybe less than half. An older man had moved behind Maggie and Jamie and for a brief second she thought it was Youkelstein.

  It wasn’t.

  Zach read her mind. “I know you think that Ben is involved in this somehow, and that he might have something to do with your husband’s death. But I don’t think so.”

  “According to Sterling, he knew about the letters, and he was in Poughkeepsie the day he died. What else could that mean?”

  “I admit that it’s suspicious behavior, but Sterling is the one with the motive, and I think he wants us to believe otherwise. He has all his life’s work and fortune invested in this election. And don’t forget, he also knew that Carsten had those letters. And he was the one who met with Ellen a couple weeks ago, so he likely knew what was going to go down at Maggie’s presentation.”

  Veronica again looked at her children, who appeared mesmerized by the fish. She figured Jamie was plotting ways to poison them, while Maggie was complaining about some oil company that was threatening that specific species of fish into possible extinction.

  “They’re not in danger,” Zach said, eying the children.

  “How can you be serious?”

  “I believe Ellen is telling the truth that there was a group called the Apostles, but I think it was just a last ditch effort to save the collective asses of the Nazi leadership that died out years ago. I don’t believe the part about reclaiming power.”

  “But you have to admit that it’s interesting timing with an election coming up. If you’re planning on taking over the world, snagging the job of President of the United States seems like a good stepping-stone.”

  “That’s an interesting angle, the same one your daughter has, but Kingston and Baer aren’t exactly Hitler’s kinda guys. Hitler was an expansionist, to say the least, and Baer is by any definition an isolationist. And Kingston is willing to go to war to protect a Jewish state … need I say more?”

  Veronica took another glance at Maggie and something clicked. Maggie was a passionate environmentalist long before she knew what the word meant. Veronica remembered one time in the third grade when she came home crying because a classmate called her a tree-hugger. Veronica told her that trees and hugging were two of the best things on the planet, so it couldn’t be a bad name. And since those were the days when she let Veronica hug her, they pretended to be trees and hugged. Veronica realized this wasn’t about political ideology—this was about trees. And that’s why she knew danger was lurking in those trees.

  “To fulfill my science requirement at NYU I took a botany class.”

  “And this has something to do with what’s going on?” Zach asked, looking confused.

  “We studied trees. And it’s related because this thing is all about family trees.”

  She pulled a pen from her purse and began scribbling Ellen’s genealogy on a cocktail napkin. Ellen had children with two different men—Harold Peterson and Heinrich Müller—creating two lineages. She had two children that they knew of—Chosen Josef and Harry Jr. From the letters, they’d learned that she had at least three biological grandchildren—Carsten came from the Peterson lineage, while Josef, of the Müller branch, had a child named Flavia with his mistress, along with another child with his wife, whose identity they’d yet to learn.

  Veronica began crossing off names of those who were deceased. Sure, some of the deaths were natural, especially those of advanced age, but many were suspicious. Harry Jr. and Greta were murdered. Flavia’s mother died suspiciously. So did Carsten and Ellen.

  It was like when those gypsy moths eat away at a tree until it’s completely dead, and in this case it was a family tree they were destroying. And while Veronica only got a ‘C’ in that botany class, she did learn enough to know Maggie and Jamie were in danger.

  Chapter 47

  Ben Youkelstein needed to get inside to talk to Rose Shepherd. She’d left out an important detail during their first meeting—her real identity. The murder of Greta Peterson now made perfect sense.

  He cursed himself for not putting this together sooner. The Wolf reference—Hitler’s early alias—was a clue she handed him on a silver platter.

  Through the darkness outside the prison, he saw a man leave the premises and walk briskly toward an awaiting vehicle.

  It couldn’t be, he thought.

  But that was just wishful thinking.

  And it changed everything.

  He waited for the man to drive away, before heading inside. He called for Nina Flores, but was told that she’d left for the evening. He then asked for Sister Goulet.

  The person behind the desk informed him that she was in a meeting, and wouldn’t be available for a half hour. He couldn’t wait that long, so he made up a story that he’d left his wallet behind in Rose Shepherd’s room earlier this afternoon, and hoped to retrieve it. A reasonable request, he thought. But like most of modern society, the prison was a bureaucracy and Rose Shepherd would have no visitors without being cleared.

  He thought to mention that he believed Rose Shepherd was actually Eva Braun, and her murder of Greta Peterson was connected to a group called the Apostles, who were plotting to raise the Reich from the ashes. But he figured that would just get him a one-way ticket to the psych ward. He had too much to do to spend his final days in a straitjacket. So he impatiently waited.

  Thirty minutes later, Sister Goulet met him with a smile. He told her his “lost wallet” story and she led him to Rose Shepherd’s prison suite.

  When she opened the door the smell of bitter almonds attacked his senses.

  Rose Shepherd was sprawled out on the floor in front of her favorite chair. The television was blasting out the ten o’clock news with wall-to-wall coverage of tomorrow’s election. Sister Goulet rushed to the woman on the floor.

  Youkelstein didn’t move. This time he was sure that Eva Braun was dead.

  Chapter 48

  By the time they hit the Saw Mill Parkway, Veronica could smell home. They were so close. And while she craved it, the kids needed it. They were riding high after their pizza and sugary drinks, but she knew it was fleeting, and their crash was imminent.

  While children might be the most resourceful creatures on the planet, and were able to rinse horrible events from their consciousness like shampoo from their hair, they were still slaves to structure. And as their crankiness heightened, Veronica knew that she needed to get them to bed and pray they didn’t have permanent nightmares.

  The last leg of the trip was to pick up TJ at Zach’s neighbors. Zach immediately rushed to his son and wrapped him in a big embrace. TJ looked confused by it, but Veronica wasn’t.

  As she neared home, she could practically feel the warm fire she planned to build, and curl up next to it with a good book. But something didn’t feel right.

  The first bad sign was that the lights were on at her mother’s house. She was normally in bed by ten. Veronica did remember her mentioning something about a school fundraiser, so maybe she’d just returned home. She hoped.

  But when she noticed the lights on inside her house, along with Uncle Phil and Aunt Val standing outside the front door, Veronica knew something was very wrong. She parked the car and rushed into the house, finding it looking like tornado footage. Broken glass, furniture turned over—the place had been ransacked.

  Her mother was crouched by a smashed television on the floor like she was contemplating giving it CPR. “What happened?” Veronica asked, horrified.

  “I just returned from my fundraiser and I noticed a strange car—a Jeep—in your driveway. But I didn’t want to pry because I thought it might have bee
n that boy you went to the movies with and didn’t want to be one of those overprotective mothers.”

  “I think it’s a little late for that.”

  “I heard a crashing sound, so I turned on my floodlights. That’s when I saw the man in your backyard. I grabbed a baseball bat, but by the time I got out of the door, the Jeep was hightailing it out of here. The lights must have spooked them.”

  “They could’ve had guns, Mom—what did you think you were going to do?” Veronica admonished. The mother/daughter roles had reversed. A fitting ending to this bizarre day.

  “When it comes to my daughter and grandchildren, I don’t worry about my safety.”

  Her words were firm, but Veronica could tell her mother was shaken. It was a rare sight.

  Veronica did a sweep of the house. While things were smashed and broken, very little was taken. Her jewelry was still there, as were most of the valuables. The only thing she noticed missing was Maggie’s computer. She didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out that the intruders were looking for something specific.

  She immediately called Eddie. Her voice cracked as she described the scene. The day just kept getting worse.

  “I was headed over there anyway. I just dropped by to pick up some of Ellen’s things at Sunshine. I should be there in ten minutes,” he said, providing a small level of comfort.

  She moved downstairs and was cut off by an angry Picasso, who was demanding his bowl of dinner, or “cat crack” as Maggie called it. She took a moment to feed the king, without so much as a “thank you” meowed in return.

  Veronica’s next stop was her still brightly lit backyard. She noticed that Maggie was observing an area that had been dug up. Veronica joined her daughter, and realized the intruder had removed the time-capsule she’d buried this morning.