They would have little time.
“If your visas have made it through the line of checks into the depot, then you’re only steps away. But you must hurry,” he cautioned, and held out his hand to shake Jakob’s. His son-in-law swallowed hard and clasped her father’s palm in both of his. In a voice laden with emotion, her father faltered, coughing over the last words: “I give them to you.”
Hannah edged around Kája and embraced her mother, crying urgent tears.
Jakob nodded and whispered, “Shalom,” before gently pulling his wife away. “We must go.” He leaned in and pecked a kiss to his mother-in-law’s cheek. “Matka. Shalom. God be with you.”
“What is this?” Kája watched with her heart constricting in her chest. She recognized anguish. It was all over her mother’s face. It poured out of Hannah’s tears. And her father, steady though he always was—he, too, had hands that shook and glasses that couldn’t disguise the tears that had formed behind them.
Instinct was something Kája sorely wished she lacked at the moment. It spoke to her now, whispering words of dread, weaving tales about what would happen to the parents who—it was evident—would be left behind.
“Kateřina dear, you must go.” Izabel stopped abruptly and pulled at the fingertips of her gloves, shedding them in mere seconds. She placed them in her pockets. On a pause, as if to remember the moment, Izabel took her youngest daughter’s cheeks in her bare hands and stared back in her eyes. “We shall catch the next train. Yes?”
She nodded, no doubt hoping her daughter would believe her. Kája’s bravery was fleeting and no matter how much she longed to, she found she could not return the gesture.
Her will was firm. “No. We will not leave you.”
“I will stay with your father until it is time to board our train. But your train is ready to go now. And you must be on it. We will meet again soon, my sweet.”
Instead of agreeing, Kája shook her head. She pressed her gloved hands over her mother’s, loving the touch of warm, gentle hands against her exposed skin. They felt so alive and in the moment, Kája didn’t want that connection to end.
“Matka . . . I am a Jew as well. Can we not all stay together and catch the next train?” Kája found it easy to beg. It seemed unfathomable that this could be the last moment their family would all be together. She pulled her mother’s hands down, not wanting to accept it, then tugged her mother’s arm up against her side with firm intention.
“No. You must go now.” Izabel closed her eyes, pain taking over every distinguished line on her face. “I will watch over your father and our home until you return. I will even watch over your studio and your beloved books so they’ll be ready for the next time you should want to read them. Everything will be just as it once was.”
“I don’t care about a paint studio or books right now!”
“But you will, Kája. You will care. And your life must go on until we meet again. Do you understand?” She reached in her pocket and retrieved what felt like a handful of stones when pressed against Kája’s palm. “Take them. Your grandmother’s pearls. I have their mates—both of them,” she breathed out, referring to the pearl studs in her ears. The earrings were lovely, with the tiny star sapphire that winked out from the top of the setting. They were unique to be sure, and familiar, as Kája always pictured her mother wearing them for special occasions. “And I promise to return them to you soon.”
Izabel coughed over a sob, then pulled her hands away and left them up in the air as a sad shield between them. She turned away, looking off into the space of dirty brick and dust in the corner.
“Hurry now, or you’ll be late for the start of your classes.”
Kája looked from her father back to her mother again, suddenly confused. “But I’m not going to school today, Matka. You know where we are going—”
Izabel cleared her throat over the words.
“Yes. Yes, of course.” She shook her head, obviously overcome. “Jakob? Please go. I can’t . . .”
“Yes.” Her brother-in-law immediately stepped forward and picked up Kája’s traveling bag. He then took her by the arm and whispered, “Kája? We must go. Now. There is no more time.”
“No!” Kája grasped for the fur-trimmed lapels of her mother’s coat as Jakob and Hannah tugged her toward the light of the train platform.
Kája wanted to stay in the shelter of the stairwell with her parents. To see that they were properly looked after and that there was indeed a train they would board. That the hope of tomorrow wouldn’t die with that final image of them.
She didn’t think of tomorrow again until she’d been ushered onto the train and fell into the coldness of the first seat she saw. Kája’s coat absorbed the physical chill, yet her heart found no warmth.
Jakob sat across from them, silent but alert.
Hannah occupied the space next to her, seemingly trying to breathe, though Jakob would look up from time to time and offer an encouraging nod. Still, she sat with her back poker straight and her eyes flitting about as she looked at the people walking outside their closed compartment, holding her breath with every shadow that passed by.
Condensation snaked down the glass window that overlooked the sad world of Prague beyond. She pressed her gloved hand to it, smearing the tears. The journey should have plagued Kája with fear. It might have, even moments before. But now, as their exodus began, she found nothing but numbness inside.
The tiniest seed of resolve sprouted in Kája’s heart when the wheels screeched and the train groaned forward, spreading the drops of water in lonely trails down the glass. She kept her hand fused to it, as if it were the last connection to her parents. They were out there—somewhere. She pictured them standing on the other side of the window, dressed so beautifully, waving a sad good-bye to the departing train. But the vision fizzled, fading away in the cloud of steam behind them, along with the rest of Prague and a sea of Nazi uniforms.
Lord—my journey back to Prague begins now.
CHAPTER THREE
The early-morning sun tipped up over the horizon in a spray of delicate yellows and golds, its light casting a haze of shadows against the voids between the downtown buildings.
Sera sat in the driver’s seat of William’s Jeep, chewing on her thumbnail as she stared at the back doors to the municipal building. She kept willing them to open and release her husband back to her side.
From the moment William had been led away from their sunset beach with handcuffs behind his back, Sera had flown into action. Immediately following the painful sight of William’s head ducked under the door of a police car, she’d charged through the front doors of the estate house and into his downstairs office. She’d maneuvered the train of her wedding gown out of the way so she could sit in the chair behind the massive desk and pulled open a drawer to begin rummaging through.
“Sera.” Penny had appeared and hovered in the office doorway. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m not all right,” she offered, her tone distracted.
She’d found the list of business contacts William had left in the desk drawer and began thumbing through them with her manicured nails. The sound of muffled crying floated in from the foyer. Sera tried to ignore it—picturing his mother in tears would only make things worse.
Sera slammed one desk drawer and yanked open another.
Penny looked out into the hall, then turned back and clicked the door closed behind her. She dropped her tone to a whisper.
“Sera, what in heaven’s name is going on? His family is out there, confused, shocked. If you know something about this, please go out there and tell them what it is.”
Sera froze, sensing the weight of what had just happened finally bearing down upon her. She closed her eyes against the fear, against the disappointment in having the best moment of her life turn into the worst in a matter of seconds.
“Sera?” Penny’s voice echoed against the stillness of the room.
Sera hadn’t noticed how hushe
d everything was until a kiss of wind brushed the office windows, signaling that their sunset beach was still alive outside. It was empty now; their reception meal would go uneaten and the flickering tabletop candles had likely all been snuffed out. William was gone. He was gone and she was sitting in a wedding gown, alone.
Sera opened her eyes and took a deep breath.
“He told me he’d leave it right here.” She began rifling through the drawer again, only glancing up when Penny remained quiet. Sera found her standing with arms folded over her middle, stoic almost, eyeing the scene.
“Leave what? What are you looking for?” Her words were whispered into the silence between them. Softly. Without reproach. And Sera found that because of the softness in them, she couldn’t turn her away.
“I’m looking for Lincoln Stahlworth’s number. I should have put it in my cell phone. I suppose I didn’t want to believe I’d really need it. What was I thinking?” she chided herself, and continued rummaging through the pens and odds and ends all the way to the back of the drawer. “I have to call his lawyer. William gave me instructions on what to do if this happened.”
“If this happened? Sera, your husband was just arrested—at your wedding! And forgive me, but you don’t seem the least bit surprised.” Penny edged toward the desk. “So do you want to tell me what’s going on? Or at least go out there and give his family some sort of explanation? Anything would do to calm them down, because they’re beside themselves. Paul’s so angry he’s ready to go tear down the jail with his two hands, and I think the last thing we all need right now is two Hanovers behind bars.”
Penny looked incredulous.
It pained Sera to see that look in her friend’s eyes, like she was hurt that Sera hadn’t confided in her. That William’s family was in shock. That, yes, Sera knew exactly what was going on; both she and William did. They’d had mere days to process the possibility, as soon as his lawyer’s office had called with the news that there was an investigation into the Hanover company finances.
“Sera? You’ve never kept anything from me before—especially not something as big as this.”
Sera exhaled and rested her elbow on the desktop, cradling her forehead with her palm. She peeked out from the side of her hand to find Penny, just a few steps away, watching her with the desk in between them.
What else was left but to tell the truth?
“The Hanover Corporation—and William in particular—is being investigated for fraud.”
Penny drew in a breath and took a step closer. “What kind of fraud?”
“When William gave back the money from the family inheritance last year, part of the assets were missing. An investigation was already underway, though we didn’t know the full extent of it then. We do now.”
“What assets?” Penny asked, and fell into a chair opposite the desk.
“Do you remember when you found William through the art auction website?”
Penny nodded. “Of course I do. It was in a photo of a vase the Hanovers had put up for sale that we first saw their painting of Adele, and we made the connection. I remember William was liquidating his grandfather’s assets. Selling some of the family heirlooms and such. But that’s not out of the ordinary, is it? Families do it all the time.”
“But that’s just it.” Sera paused and looked up at her friend. “The art wasn’t his to sell.”
Penny creased her brow, asking, “I don’t understand. He was acting on behalf of the family. He was executor of his grandfather’s will, right?”
“He was. And yes—he did liquidate much of the estate because his father wasn’t in the picture. William’s grandfather was an avid art buyer and over the years had amassed quite a collection. Picassos. A Renoir. Even an early Manet. But more than three years ago, the artwork was signed over to the Hanover Corporation as collateral for a very large loan.”
“How much money are we talking about, Sera?”
Penny bit her bottom lip, waiting for an answer.
A pent-up breath escaped her lungs. Sera exhaled, long and low. Somehow, saying the words out loud made them even scarier. She feared saying them would somehow make them true to those whom she trusted most. If Penny couldn’t be convinced of William’s innocence, who would?
“Somewhere in the range of twelve million dollars.”
Penny’s eyebrows arched up with the truth. No doubt she was trying to figure out the same thing Sera had—why twelve million dollars would matter to a family who had more than ten times that.
“But that’s a leaf blowing in the breeze to the Hanovers, right? Forgive me for saying it, but your husband’s family has money coming out of their ears.”
“Had. William didn’t take the inheritance, remember?”
“But the family still has quite a bit of it. So why would he need a few million when he gave up more than 100 million?”
Penny was right, of course.
The Hanovers seemed the picture of American prosperity. They owned a lavish beachside estate. A vineyard outside Napa. They owned a private jet for the company, which the family had for their own use. They owned a Park Avenue apartment and still had a rather large townhouse in London’s South Kensington neighborhood. All in all, they had more than one leaf blowing on a breeze; they owned a tree of them. So it begged the question—why the loan?
“Well, that question doesn’t matter to the authorities. They say someone behind the scenes transferred ownership of the art collection to the Hanover Corporation almost four years ago. When William turned around and sold the art last year, he didn’t know that it was no longer his to sell. Officially, it belonged to his investors. The price for the transaction was twelve million dollars and it was buried in the company books. Somehow they’ve traced the money back to William. His signature is on the loan and then on each bill of sale for the art.”
“Which means?”
Sera looked up, knowing the truth would show all over her face. It did no good to hide it. Penny could see straight through her without trying.
“Which means that my husband could be in some serious trouble.”
Penny rushed around to the back side of the desk, just in time for Sera to crumble in her arms. Penny cradled her hand at the back of Sera’s head, whispering soothing words as she cried.
“How long have you known about this?”
“Only a few days,” Sera mumbled, hiccupping slightly.
“And this is why you moved the wedding up?”
Sera nodded.
“You silly girl,” Penny whispered on a sigh, and pecked a kiss at her temple. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s why you were so quick to jump into this? And here I thought you two just loved each other so much that you couldn’t stand to be apart anymore.”
“We can’t stand to be apart. That’s why I married him. Whatever happens, I won’t wait around on the sidelines. If I’m his wife, I can walk through this with him. It’s as simple as that.”
“Sera.” Penny’s doubt seeped through in the tone of one word. “Are you sure he—”
“I know what you’re thinking, Penn. But he didn’t do this.” Sera’s heart sank with the flicker of doubt in Penny’s voice.
“You’re positive?”
Sera pounded her fist on the desk. “He told me he’s innocent and I believe him. You don’t know him like I do.”
“Are you sure you know him?”
“Penn, we’ve been engaged for months. We’ve spent time together over the last year, holidays, flying from coast to coast just to be a part of each other’s lives. He’s been in the gallery a hundred times. It’s not like we rushed into this. We may have made the decision to move the wedding up but that doesn’t mean it was blind. I know who he is and he’d never lie to me.”
“I never said he’d lie to you.” Penny paused, as if fighting to choose her words oh so carefully. “I just have to think that in order to hand down an indictment for the things you’re talking about—wouldn’t the feds need to have some pretty strong evi
dence?”
Sera pulled back from Penny’s arms and stared back at her, to find the loving support she’d expected to see was only half there. The rest of what she saw was pure speculation. Doubt had rushed over Penny’s features like a wave.
It hurt to realize the truth.
“You think he did this?”
Penny shook her head immediately. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“Sera, you’re my friend. I love you dearly. I only want what’s best for—”
“Don’t say you want what’s best for me!” Sera pushed back the desk chair and sprang to her feet, leaving Penny kneeling at its side.
“It is what I want—always.”
“And I want to be with him. I need to fight for him, even in something like this. It could get much worse, I know. But I trust him. That’s why I married him. Not because we were afraid of an arrest or even because I wanted to be at his side through it all. I married Will because I love him. And with love, trust is given without question. I’m his wife; I owe him that at least.”
Her friend’s will looked solid. She was loving in her doubt; that much was evident. But it meant that convincing others of her husband’s innocence wasn’t going to be an easy task. If her closest friend had doubts, who wouldn’t?
Penny rose up and tilted her head toward the door.
“And what should I tell them? They’re waiting on the other side of that door and I think they’re going to demand some sort of explanation when I walk through it. Right now you’re the only one who can give it to them.”
Sera notched her chin in a show of solidarity. She stood tall with squared shoulders and a poker-straight stance.
“You tell them that I’m getting on the phone with William’s lawyers and that we’ll have him back home by morning. I don’t care if I have to make calls all night and wake up half the city in the process—he’s coming home. And after that, all of the Hanovers will take this thing one step at a time.”
Penny hesitated only a moment. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it and instead nodded, then turned toward the door.
A Sparrow in Terezin Page 4