by Graham Adams
Louis initially wanted to stop at any of the number of towns on the way, but the Limo seemed to know where it was going, so her just cruised past Verdun. At this place nearly three quarters of a million French and German soldiers were smashed to pieces in nine months of fighting in the 1916 battle where neither side would give way, so they fought to the death instead. Metz and Saverne passed by and soon he was on the last leg, to Strasbourg.
With the city boundary in view, he pulled over to the side of the road to get the full address of the new owner of the car, Ethan Khan. It looked like he did live in the city somewhere so as the day’s light began to recede and the city roads were reasonably lacking in traffic, so he decided to find the first traffic policeman and get some guidance. Standing on the corner of a city street crossroads was a man in uniform. He pulled up alongside him and passed him the paper with the address on it. The man obliged, and in broken English told him that he was quite close.
It was in fact at the next cross roads; sharp left, and then in a short distance, look out for some iron gates on the right. The street was empty, so he cruised down it looking for a gate. Initially he drove past his destination, and had to reverse back. He had in fact passed two huge gates, which he thought were to a municipal park, but when he got out of the car her saw woven into the wrought ironwork, the name ‘KHAN on both sides. A small aluminium box was situated to the left with a large red button which he pressed and waited. There was no answer, so he tried again, pressing harder and longer.
‘Bonjour’ emitted rather crackly from the box.
‘Monsieur Khan?’ Louis shouted into the little grille.
‘Is that you Louis?’
‘Yes I have your car Mr. Khan’ he shouted again.
Just as Louis spoke the two massive gates started to open soundlessly, so he jumped in the Limo’s driving seat and turned into the driveway. He had just cleared the gates, when looking into the rear view mirror he saw that the gates were already closing. The winding ornamental drive was flanked by tall palms with massive leaves and ferns that were twenty feet tall; it was as if he was driving into a jungle.
Sooner than he expected, the house appeared. He tried to imagine the size of it, but the palms and ferns had obliterated his view. From what he could see however, it was a large white villa of four floors in pure white, except for the roof area which was castellated and on the extreme top it was accentuated by a line of pink stone. To Louis it looked like a big square wedding cake with white and pink icing covering it.
He brought the Mercedes to a halt outside the huge front door, which was set behind a wide flight of marble steps flanked by white and pink marble pillars. As he looked upwards, the Corinthian decoration seemed to be holding up a massive triangular portico. As he stared upwards, he noticed that the massive double doors had opened, and he thought that at least two mahogany trees had been used to make them. He looked down again and was greeted by a short man in a fabulous dressing gown. His best feature though was his welcoming smile; it seemed to be from ear to ear.
‘Harold said you were young, but let me take a look at you, a mere boy.’ Ethan held out his arms and gave the young man a big hug. ‘Have you driven to here from Southampton today, Louis?’
‘I think the car wanted to get here, but I promise that I didn’t break any speed limits. I can honestly say to you, this is the best car in the world.’ Louis looked seriously at the new owner.
‘Roger!’ Ethan shouted, and a butler in full livery came dashing up to his master like a well trained dog. ‘Run this man a bath in the blue room and get his luggage from the boot of the car, and then take the car to the garage area, just give it a clean up before you put it to bed. OK?’ The butler bowed and ran up the huge staircase and disappeared.
Ethan put his arm around Louis and guided him to what could only be called a state room. He said that he had so much to ask him and hoped that he would stay there for a night or two as he had so much to talk about and had a ‘surprise or two’ for his young visitor.
As they sat on sumptuous chairs, a maid appeared from nowhere and brought in a tray of delicate sandwiches of salmon, tuna and salt beef which she laid on a pink marble table. She walked out of the room only to return with a large silver teapot and some exquisite English bone china.
‘I feel like I already know you Louis, Harold has told me so much already. You are a Levi, are you not?’ Louis nodded.’ Your ancestors come from Haguanau, am I right?’
My Aunt Ruth tells me that that is so. I live with her and she is the most wonderful person, I really love her you know, her dead husband is…’
Ethan lifted his hand to stop Louis saying anymore and he laughed loudly. Enough my boy, drink your tea and eat, then go and get clean. You need some sleep, then we will talk tomorrow, you great grandson of Lewi Levi!’
Breakfast at the Kahn’s was out of this world, and he had the pleasure of meeting Ethan’s wife Leah, much younger that him, but her devotion could not be ignored. They even had breakfast holding hands. That was new to Louis but then on reflection, it seemed so natural. Much to his surprise, the atmosphere was homely in a room that looked so formal. He attributed all that to the presence of Leah.
After breakfast Ethan asked Louis if he was ready to hear a story, and the young man sat up straight, all ears. The first shock was immediate. He was told that his great grandfather did not die at the hands of the Nazis, although his business of course did.
‘As you already know, all the rest of his family had escaped to England and were saved. Lewi did the opposite; he made his way eastwards towards Germany. Only a few months before setting out on the perilous journey his dear wife Hannah had died from cholera.’ Ethan explained.
After great hardship he arrived at to the outskirts of Saverne in his beloved Alsace, at a small farm. The remote farm was inhabited by a young mother and her very young son who were desperate for help to run it. The mother told Lewi that some months before, her husband stood up to a German officer about the inhuman treatment that they and the other villagers were receiving. The farmer was made an example of, as many were, and was summarily shot in front of all the inhabitants who were forced to watch, including his young wife and their son. In repayment for Lewi helping them survive, she promised to hide him, and he of course readily agreed to help them.
As many different people were thrown together in those desperate times, so it was for them. She, in her late twenties, he in his late sixties, had grown to love each other, and in a matter of a couple of years they had a baby girl together. One day at the closing of the conflict, when the western alliance were changing the balance of power, Lewi was in the fields with his baby daughter pointing out all the different flowers that were growing, when he noticed on the brow of the hill, that a bedraggled company of German soldiers were heading their way. Quickly he lay still on the ground with his child close to him, hoping that they would pass by.
The once proud German army was on the run, and they were hungry and lacking in any discipline as they ran down the hill towards the farmhouse. In a few moments Lewi could hear screaming and gunshots but daren’t look up in fear of discovery. The screaming suddenly stopped, and after half an hour he plucked up the courage to lift his head and look. The roof of the farmhouse was on fire and it was looking like an inferno. He put the baby down carefully and ran to the house. By the time he was there the fire was just smouldering, and inside the room at the far side were two charred bodies crouched in the corner. He didn’t need any identification, and he was filled with disgust and helplessness at the same time.
It was some time after the war that Lewi returned to the place of his birth Hagenau, with his baby daughter Leah. It was very hard for a seventy year old to take care of a two year old so the local synagogue helped him re-home her in Strasbourg, and when he could, he would visit her making sure that her father was not forgotten.
‘And this, my dear boy is Leah, the daughter of your great grandfather Lewi. Although she is not much older than yo
u, she is in fact your Great Aunt.’ Ethan put his arm around the boy.
Leah came over to him and quietly hugged him too, he sat back down at the table and laid his head on his arms. It was all too much for him to take in, so Ethan and Leah sat alongside him and comforted him as he wept.
Leah gently slipped a white envelope towards Louis and asked him to open it. The thick white paper was folded into three and he tried to read it but it was in Hebrew, so he asked Leah to read it to him.
‘To those that follow on from me’, it was headed. ‘Now the war is over and the many thousands of our race who have perished at the hands of the Nazis, I look forward to the day when I join them. But first I must write to those that follow me in the Tribe of Levi. You all know that the Germans have plundered not only our people, but also our belongings. And where has it got them? They had surely taken the small collection that I had in my shop in Paris. But I had a favourite work of art that I hid inside one of the items that I had to leave in the shop. I was told that they hid many of the stolen belongings of our people, in caves in Germany. Perhaps one day they will be recovered.
This is all I know, soon I will be gone but I ask my little Leah to mark my grave at the temple in Hagenau. Shalom. Lewi Levi.’
Louis had never thought that he would hear the words written by the great man from the lips of his daughter, it was the most moving event that he had experienced, or ever would do. He stood up from his chair and faced his new relatives, tears continued to stream down his face as he held on to them for what seemed a very long time. The story of Lewi, and the legacy he left made the young man so proud.
An hour or so later he was sandwiched between his two new family members in the same car that he had brought to them the previous day. Roger the butler was driving them to Hagenau to see his namesake Lewi. He was surprised how short a journey it was.
Soon they had pulled up outside a sombrely built building that he recognised as a synagogue, with the familiar Star of David in the front window. There were little in the way of buildings around it, and given the history, Louis was surprised that it was still standing. As they got out, a little old woman dressed in black stood in front of the main door to welcome them. She seemed to recognise Leah and bowed to her, opened the temple door and ushered them inside. It was dark and quiet and Louis noticed that the layout was very similar to the on he went to with his Aunt Ruth in Southampton. The three of them sat at the back and Leah held both the men’s hands as they bent their heads in silent prayer.
She squeezed her nephew’s hand gently to indicate that they were going outside and so they filed around the back of the building. There were many unmarked graves in the cemetery, a case of the few burying the many. All were victims of the holocaust in this area.
They carried on past the graves and came upon an unusual sight. Two trees that looked like ancient yews had grown so closely together, that they had joined over the centuries and had become one. As he walked up to them Ethan grabbed one of the branches that were overhanging, as if he was shaking its hand. Amongst the leaves were large quantities of little red berries shaped as if someone had already taken a bite of them.
‘What do you feel Ethan.’ Leah asked her husband.
He looked back to her with tears in his eyes. ‘I can feel the roots of the trees and they have been soaked in the blood of our fallen tribes, cut off in their prime by the oppressor.’
‘And the berries, they represent the drops of blood shed.’ Said Louis
Leah took hold of Louis’s hand and led him around the ancient pair of trees. Only a few metres beyond the old Yews there stood a large rough boulder of granite, it seemed to be just sitting on the grass as if a giant had thrown it there.
He looked at it carefully, and saw that one of the sides of the boulder had been polished flat, and inscribed in gold Hebrew print. He laid his hand on the smooth surface and looked to Leah for a translation. Leah stood in front of the written dedication and read out loud to them.
‘Rest in peace dear son of the tribe of Levi, we shall forever remember you.’
Ethan told Louis that they had chosen such a piece of granite as they desired that their tribute should last forever. Then he put his arm around Louis and the other around his young wife and they solemnly walked back to the car. Quietly Ethan left a sum of money in the Temple and came out again.
As the limousine glided towards home, Louis, in all the excitement had forgotten about picking the car up from Stuttgart. ‘I think we know what you’re thinking about dear boy, but I’m one step ahead of you.’ Ethan laughed. ‘The car you are worrying about should just about now be sitting in one of our garages waiting for you.’
‘How could that be done Uncle?’ Louis asked.
‘Just a small phone call to Harold is all that it took. He was happy and now so are we, am I right dear boy?’ Ethan asked.
‘We want you to stay with us Louis, as long as you like. There is plenty of room and we know you would be very happy here.’ Leah looked at him awaiting an answer.
Louis explained that he wanted to go back home the next day, to which they both looked disappointed. So when the young man talked about Esther, whom he had just met, he promised faithfully that he would return with his new wife on his next visit. Ethan smiled broadly.
‘That’s what I like to hear Leah, a man who knows what he wants!’ Then they all laughed loudly.
15 The Big Sale
The auction house in NYC
Victor woke up on the Sunday morning in his apartment with a hangover, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t going to the warehouse. Mikhail certainly knew how to have a good time, but still the question remained how much could he trust this Russian Ambassador?
The most important job to do first at the Warehouse was to obtain the individual numbers to attach to, and follow each individual item right up to the successful disposal. This number, which represented the item’s own Swiss bank account, would automatically be credited by the Auction house after charges. Mikhail had made it very clear to him that only four parties would know the number. Mikhail, Victor, the auctioneer and Philippe, the Swiss banker, the provider of the number in the first place.
He agreed with the Ambassador that Victor would choose the first five artefacts, Mikhail would obtain five numbers from Philippe to start with, and Victor would shipped them to the auction house, duly marked, and accompany the shipment to the chosen auction house for the first sale. This would enable them to then judge what, if anything, did not go smoothly, and then rectify it.
Victor had spoken to Mikhail on the Sunday on the special mobile number to ask him a question. Mikhail sounded uncomfortable on the phone, but told him the address of the café on his boulevard where he would meet him after dark, and suggested after ten. Mikhail was dressed in the same strange disguise as last time, and Victor could not disguise his mirth. The young man had been thinking ahead about any hitches that could arise, and he asked if the Russian could trust him to make contact with his friend Leah-May from Bonham’s in London.
Victor explained that Leah-May would be very useful in getting the details right and would make the whole operation much smoother. Mikhail asked about her credentials and said to leave it with him, as he wanted to do some checking first. He was happy though for Victor to ‘touch base’ with her to ask if she might be interested, but warned Victor not to disclose any details of their arrangement. Victor also told the Ambassador that subject to a generous financial arrangement with her, together they could more than halve the time it would take to dispose of all the artefacts, which would mean probably more proceeds, much quicker.
As he slept that Sunday night he hoped that Mikhail would see sense and agree to his request, as he really did not want to even attempt such a considerable disposal without professional help. In fact he was sure that the task was too big for one person. Victor’s ploy would be to temp Mikhail, by telling him that with two people, he would complete the sales considerably quicker.
The next da
y, Victor was pleased to see that Levka had retained the job to ferry the young man to and from the Warehouse. It was helpful to at least know the person, and on the surface, trust him. The guards were still at the warehouse although two of them had been changed. Victor quite understood that, considering how long they had to be there for the Ambassador. Levka had given Victor a sealed envelope, hand written to be opened when he had arrived at their destination.
The letter outlined that Mikhail’s investigation had proved positive and he agreed ‘in principle’ to his request. In respect of the person that Victor had suggested, he was happy for him to allow remuneration, however it would have to come out of Victor’s own commission, and nowhere else. At the bottom of the letter there was a strict instruction to burn his written message for obvious reasons.
Victor was ecstatic about Mikhail’s note and he had soon fired off an email to Leah-May asking her to meet him as soon as possible at his flat in Montmartre. Amazingly he received a reply in less than five minutes, asking what it was all about. He answered, apologising for the lack of detail, but asking if she could she take a couple of days off and come. Also, just for interest, he mentioned that she could finish up a wealthy woman.
He then intimated to her that it would be the most exciting offer she might ever receive. He received he reply that she would be on the first flight from London on the Tuesday, and a request that he meet her at the airport at ten in the morning. His reply was affirmative and he told her what he would be wearing, and told her look out for him.
The young man made pretence of inspecting the layout of the artefacts, moving them slightly here and there, and checking against the listings. Soon it was lunchtime, and he told Levka that he was done for the day and that he would not need his services the next day. He also told him that there could be another person accompanying him on the Wednesday morning. The senior guard also had to be told and he gave him Leah’s full name Leah-May Owen, so that his records would be in order. On the way back to the city Levka said that he would have to report to his boss the change of instructions and Victor nodded in agreement as he got out of the Renault.