by Renee Duke
“Shock,” said Uncle Trevor.
“Due to…?”
“Recognition of the man signing in at the desk. It’s Jasper Wolverton-Herne. The people with him are his wife Lavinia, son Percy, and daughter-in-law, Hermione.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Are…are you sure?” Paige managed.
“Yes. I’m the chap who did up Grantie’s genealogical chart and family history. In the course of which I studied every photo and news clipping she had. Her sister Lavinia would have been in her mid-forties about now, Jasper close to sixty, and the newly-weds about nineteen. They married young. Come on. Let’s get back upstairs before we’re spotted and have to be sociable.”
“Well, this is scary,” said Paige once they got to her room. “Penelope to contend with on one side of our medallion connection, and Great-Grandpa Percy on the other.”
“Fortunately, only Penelope is cognizant of us,” said Uncle Trevor. “The ones this end don’t know us. Your names will mean nothing to them, and since I’m here under an assumed name, they won’t connect me to the Hollingsworth line. Their presence here doesn’t make me feel any too comfortable, however. Perhaps we should return to our own time. Now that Hani’s passed the bracelet on to us, your work here’s probably finished.”
“It can’t be. If it was, the medallion would have tingled as soon as I got the bracelet. It didn’t.”
“And isn’t tingling now,” said Dane, who was wearing it. Much, he added mentally.
“That might just be because it wants us to stay until Jack’s completely healed up,” Uncle Trevor argued.
“Or because our work here isn’t finished,” said Paige. “We know the Reitzels and Altmeyers are leaving Germany, but Nicko’s family isn’t. They’re still deliberating.”
“Whether they stay or go is up to them. We’ve voiced our opinions.” Uncle Trevor gave a sigh of regret. “Like it or not, you know saving everyone isn’t part of your mandate this time round.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t try. I’m not willing to give up yet.”
“Me either,” said Dane.
“All right. We’ll stay a few more days. Jack’s definitely on the mend, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure his wound won’t excite comment when we go back. And despite my instinctive desire to limit contact with the Wolverton-Hernes, it might be interesting to find out what Jasper and co. are up to. We’ll introduce ourselves and keep a close eye on them. I might even pretend to be a Nazi sympathizer myself. I’ll tell Herr Altmeyer his new guests pose a threat to England and I believe it to be in my country’s interest to cosy up to them and learn more about their intentions.”
Herr Altmeyer concurred. “A clever idea, Herr Hastings. I’m sure the British is eager to be made aware of potential traitors. Already I think the abdication of your King Edward the Eighth might have had more to do with his liking for Nazis than his liking for the American woman. Your Ministry of Defence must be told if English businessmen are getting friendly also. Cosy up to them all you wish. The Kepplers have invited Marta to go skiing with them for a few days, so there is no danger she will drop by and say anything that might cause these people to suspect that, like me, you abhor the Reich.”
Uncle Trevor didn’t exactly ‘cosy up’, but he did mask his loathing of the Wolverton-Hernes well enough to engage in conversation whenever they met for meals or passed in the hallway. And well enough for the head of the family to insist that the children call him ‘Uncle Jasper’. Which they found rather amusing, since, unbeknownst to him, he was their distant uncle.
“Germany’s definitely on the right track for future prosperity,” Uncle Jasper said to Uncle Trevor at supper the first evening. “Every country should be ridding itself of communists and clamping down on Jews, Gypsies, and other riff-raff. Were you here for Kristallnacht? Herr Altmeyer said you’ve been in Germany several times taking photos of important events.”
“Afraid I missed Kristallnacht,” Uncle Trevor said, trying to sound disappointed.
“Too bad. But there’ll be plenty more opportunities to document Germany’s rebirth and rise to power. Could well be the making of you; the fellow who got photos of it all. Not many of our countrymen realize the potential for fame and fortune if they throw in with the Nazis. They’ll be taking over a lot of countries, including our own, and aren’t likely to forget who their friends are. I expect to make quite a tidy pile myself. I brought my son along on this trip to make sure Herr Gruber and his friends know that we’re all onside.”
“He’s committed to the Nazi cause, too, is he?” Uncle Trevor inquired. Earlier in the day he had accompanied Cousin Percy and Cousin Hermione on some tours a friend of Onkel Gottfried had arranged and then on to an exclusive Nazi club. He had declined an invitation to stay at the club for supper, but they had accepted.
“Committed? Percy? I’ll say! He knows the German way is the way of the future. He likes how they do things. Especially the Gestapo. The new order’s sure to meet with some opposition as it starts to establish itself world-wide, but he reckons Himmler’s fellows know how to deal with trouble-makers.”
Cousin Percy and Cousin Hermione were out most of the next day as well, this time shopping and visiting local tourist attractions. They did not return until early evening. Uncle Trevor was upstairs reading and Paige and the boys downstairs crawling around the reception area. Jack had dropped a board game box and most of the pieces had rolled behind the long, tall, reception desk. Engaged in retrieving them, they were hidden from view when Uncle Jasper and Aunt Lavinia came downstairs and settled at a small table in the lobby. Moments later, the younger Wolverton-Hernes came in and were equally oblivious to the children’s presence.
“Did you get it?” Aunt Lavinia asked, eagerly. “Did that man who promised to find it for your father finally get the right one?”
Cousin Percy waved a book in front of her. Peeping round the desk, the children tensed with interest, for it was the same book Professor Azarian had shown them.
“Excellent,” said Uncle Jasper. “Let’s have a look.” He opened the cover. “There it is. Titus’s name. The old stories were true. The book our ancestor won in a game of cards has finally come back to us. Not that we’d ever have lost it if he hadn’t been such a wastrel in his early years. Imagine pawning a book like this.”
“I doubt he realized its importance until he received a letter from the young Armenian he originally won it from, inquiring as to whether or not he enjoyed it,” said Cousin Lavinia. “Bit of luck that, as it made Titus sit up and take notice of something he’d hitherto dismissed as just an interesting legend.”
“Not luck, my dear. Providence. The Hernes were meant to know about the fortunes to be made through possession of your family’s cherished bauble. That’s why Vasag Karayan allowed Titus to win the book from him in the first place. So we’d be set on the right track.” Uncle Jasper started to leaf through the book. “Not sure how Karayan benefitted from it, but Titus always claimed the Hernes were specifically chosen to do what someone attached to Karayan couldn’t. He said in one of his journals that a lot of this book is camouflage, just bits and pieces of Armenian history written for an English market, but if you know what to look for…ah, here’s something. It’s under the heading, ‘A Legend of Interest to The Ambitious’. It says, ‘Each Keeper Piece is said to be infused with power, power that can only be released in correlation with the primary medallion, recognizable by its secret inscription. Once this inscription has been translated and the words spoken in the native tongue of the holder, the speaker can expect to be taken to places of great interest and potential profit. Though the identity of the primary medallion’s hereditary holders be not currently known, it would behoove those of an enterprising nature to discover it, as whoever relieves them of this treasure is likely to rise high in the world. As they should, for it is a wicked waste for the medallion to remain in the hands of those committed solely to its original purpose. That purpose being to simply aid, in some manner,
persons of little consequence. Far better it be used to fill the coffers of those with the wit and will to wield its power properly.”
“Which we do,” said Cousin Percy.
“We do indeed,” said Uncle Jasper. “And here’s the rhyme that’s come down to us from Titus. The only thing the young fool could remember with any clarity from the book.
“‘If ye be bold and keen of mind,
Ye can great wealth and power find,
By taking for thyself the key
Which leads to such prosperity.
Use falls beneath an age select,
Though elders can their path direct.
To gain the key ye must join the line,
That serves the tree and would decline
The rewards which wait to be bestowed
On those who’d take a different road.’”
“Percy told me the medallion was the ‘key’, and said Titus spent years looking for the family that had it,” said Cousin Hermione.
“He did,” said Uncle Jasper. “When he finally learned it was the Wolvertons, he set about wooing the only eligible Wolverton daughter. He was getting on a bit by then, though, and the uppity little madam didn’t fancy him. Undaunted, he shoved his much younger brother in her direction. Him, she did fancy. Unfortunately, he also fancied her. To the extent that, once they were married, he refused to procure the medallion for Titus. Said he could never betray his beloved’s family like that. Stupid young pup. Poor Titus was a broken man. Had to be content with marrying someone else and passing the story down so one of his descendants could reap those ‘rewards which wait to be bestowed’.”
“And Jasper thinks we’ll be the ones to do it,” said Aunt Lavinia squeezing his arm affectionately. “Having this book to refer to should help a lot. Up until now, we’ve had a hard go of it. My parents didn’t approve of Jasper. We had to elope, and even after our marriage was a fait accompli, they only very grudgingly accepted it, and weren’t at all pleased when we added Wolverton to our surname. Even so, with no sons left to perpetuate the Wolverton name, we fully expected Papa to leave all his wealth and possessions to Percy, his Wolverton-Herne grandson. But my youngest sister, Rosetta, could always wrap Papa around her little finger. In his dotage she persuaded him to bequeath everything to her. Including the medallion, which she and her fiancé Daniel Tremaine will doubtless pass on to any brats they may have. Letting the children of the family use the medallion’s power is a long-standing tradition. Only certain ones are favoured, though, and I was not among them.”
“My cousin Emmy was,” said Cousin Percy. “I caught her with it one day. Would have got it from her if she hadn’t been such a mouse that she took fright and gave it back to Auntie Etta. About all I could do then was ask Auntie Etta if I could have it for a while. She said no, of course. She’s never liked me.”
“We can bide our time,” said Uncle Jasper. “You two will soon have children to pit against any Etta and Daniel might have. Or that Emmy might have if they don’t. Sooner or later, the medallion will come to us. Once it does, we just have to figure out how it works and…well, I think anything we stand to rake in from working with the Nazis might well be small potatoes compared to what the medallion’s capable of giving us. I’d like to peruse this book further, but Gottfried Gruber got us all tickets for a concert, and we don’t want to offend him by not going.”
They went up to their rooms to get ready. The children stayed where they were, but as soon as the Wolverton-Hernes left for the concert, they flew upstairs and filled Uncle Trevor in on what they’d overheard.
“Well, now, isn’t that interesting,” he said. “Explains how our W-H relatives know more about the medallion than they should—and confirms my father’s suspicions that they didn’t become our relatives by random chance. He told me Herne means ‘hunter’, and if Titus Herne got that book off an Armenian, I dare say our friend Khatcheres had a hand in making sure he got it. His hunter line against our restorer line A hunter line which eventually found us and is now determined to get hold of the medallion and use it for their own gain.”
“How?” asked Dane. “It only ever takes its users to kids in trouble.”
“Whom they would leave in trouble and look around for ways in which to profit from being in another era,” said Uncle Trevor. “Such as acquiring items that would come to be of great value. My camera, for instance. It would fetch a few bob in our time. So would the fountain pen, a Meisterstuck 149. They’d know what to procure, and would do so on a huge scale. Works of art, manuscripts, precious gems, whatever the time in question had to offer. And then there would be the time itself, filled with possibilities for timeline manipulation. They could do something that would work to their future advantage, or hold the modern world to ransom, threatening to change the order of things unless someone paid them handsomely not to.”
“The medallion wouldn’t allow that,” said Dane. “If they weren’t doing what they were supposed to, it would just whisk them back.”
“It’s never whisked us back,” said Paige. “Not without one of us saying the connecting rhyme. Not even from Victorian times, when, even though our task was finished, we chose to stay and make sure Hetty and Pip were all right.”
“But our reasons for staying were good, and once we felt okay about Hetty and Pip, the tingling got so intense we knew we had to leave.”
“Yeah, and we did, but Penelope would just take it off, allowing her and any grown-ups she had with her to ignore it and carry on gathering up valuables and playing havoc with history. We’ve got to make sure they never get their hands on it.”
“Or can’t get it to work if they do,” said Jack. “Since kids under sixteen are the only ones who can work it, I could make out that being shot at has unnerved me and say I want to tell her exactly what the medallion does and the way to make it do it. And once she’s been told how to use it—”
“—she won’t be able to,” Paige finished. “Just like our mothers couldn’t because Granddad and Uncle Edmond told them without letting them work it out for themselves. Way to go, Jack.” She rubbed her hands gleefully.
“Sweet,” Dane agreed.
Paige suddenly sobered. “But that’ll only sabotage Penelope. Her father or grandfather could still kidnap one of us and make us work it. They know we can.”
“Oh, I don’t think they’ll try that,” said Uncle Trevor.
“Why not?”
He turned to a bedside table and patted his camera. “I got this as a prop for my cover and a potential Christmas present for my father-in-law, but it’s also provided me with some very nice pictures of Percy and Hermione taking in local attractions. Local Nazi attractions.”
“What do you want pictures of that for?” asked Dane.
Paige knew. “Blackmail!” she declared.
“In a word, yes,” Uncle Trevor replied. “There have always been rumours that Percy and Jasper were Nazi sympathizers before the war, and might even have been working for them during it. Until now, there’s been no proof, but even though decades have passed, they could still be ruined by an open accusation that was backed up with clear, and, through the negatives, verifiably genuine, photos of them in Nazi locales hobnobbing with Nazi bigwigs.”
“Can you still get that kind of film developed in our time?” Dane inquired.
“I’m not sure. That’s why I’ve already had prints made. People of this period usually had to wait several days for their photos, but a little something extra in the way of payment secured me a rush job. Want to see them? I have some especially damning pictures of Percy out at Dachau gleefully touring the facilities in which many of the Jews arrested during Kristallnacht are being held. Pictures the diligent chaps who still pursue Nazi war criminals and collaborators might well be interested in.”
Aware of the camp’s reputation, the children approached the Dachau pictures a little apprehensively.
“The prisoners look in fairly good shape,” Paige said in surprise. “Even the camp itself s
eems quite well kept up.”
“A lot of the buildings are new. Put up in response to a population increase. Dachau started out as a camp for political prisoners. While rations might have been short, and beatings definitely occurred, systematic starvation and brutality didn’t become common practice until the war years. A method of control the Nazis didn’t invent. They just took it to a whole new level.”
“Who did invent it?” Dane wanted to know.
“Our forefathers. The people who slaughtered as many Native Americans as they could and herded the rest onto reservations, where they were kept in appalling conditions and treated abominably. Later, during the Second Boer War, the British turned refugee camps into prison camps and ran them much the same way as the reservations. Mortality rates were high in both, and the Nazis studied them at length to learn how to go about ridding themselves of the undesirable sub-humans in their own detention centres. Heinrich Himmler of Gestapo fame was the chief administrator.” Uncle Trevor smiled. “And I have Jasper on tape admitting that Percy was a great admirer of Heinrich Himmler.”
“How’d you manage that?” Paige asked.
Uncle Trevor fished a miniature tape recorder out of his pocket. “Switched this on during the first meal we had together. Happened to have it with me back in our own time. Good job, too, since the ones from this era were too large for covert use. Jasper might not have minded being recorded, though. The others certainly didn’t mind being photographed. With luck, they won’t tomorrow, either. That’s when the whole crew’s supposed to be having lunch with Deputy Führer Hess and Reich Minister Ribbentrop. I’d love to get pictures of that as well. Just don’t quite know how to wangle it.”
As it happened, he didn’t have to. The next morning, Uncle Jasper asked him to accompany them to the well-known, upscale restaurant where the luncheon was being held. He told him he was expecting great things from the meeting, and thought it would be good to have a professional photographer on hand to capture its finer moments.