Searching for Edgar's Five Dancers

by Efren O'brien

  After being informed Quinn Chase was outside, Garrett replied, “Quinn Chase…he’s still around?” About two minutes later after deciding what to do, the door to the chief’s office opened and Garrett walked out smiling. “Well, I’ll be damned! If it isn’t one of my favorite detectives, Quinn Chase! Damnya’s, Quinn! What the hell have you been up to the last four years?” Garrett said with a broad grin while extending his hand. “We’ve been worried about you and Ethan Clark! We’ve been hoping we’d hear something sometime!”

  Quinn displayed a wry smile as he shook Garrett’s hand, but offered only a short answer. “I’ve been on a real journey, chief!”

  “Hell, it’s great to see you!” said Garrett. “Come on in here, have some coffee, or a belt of whiskey! Fill me in on your adventures!”

  “Thanks, chief, I was hoping you would have a few minutes,” Quinn said as he walked from the visitor’s couch in the outer office. “I’ve got so much to share with you!” said Quinn.

  They both looked at one another and laughed as Quinn displayed the widest smile he could muster. He walked into the chief’s office, a folder under his left arm in which Quinn carried a typed confession for the chief to sign. It was about the events from four years ago. The document essentially read that Brock Garrett, along with high-ranking members of the US Army, sent Quinn and Ethan Clark on a fraudulent, near–suicide mission without informing either man or gaining either man’s consent. Once signed, the confession would probably end Garrett’s career as Chief of Police and might even put him behind bars. At the very least this injustice would be exposed. Concealed in Quinn’s pocket was his small Derringer. The small handgun was fully loaded with two .32 caliber bullets; one in each chamber. The way Quinn viewed the situation was that for the good of the police force, and for the country, he had to act. If Garrett wouldn’t sign the confession, Quinn would never have a better opportunity to set things straight than now. If Garrett wouldn’t sign the confession, Quinn knew instead of beginning a new job and new life – he’d be going to jail. But in Quinn’s mind the act would be justified and he would have done the right thing. He would meet and sort the details out with God at a later time, and figured he would be forgiven. It would be a fitting conclusion to this tragic chapter of his life. And in the overall scheme of things on that day in the life of a true detective…that’s all that mattered to Quinn.

  EPILOGUE

  In 2010…nearly 70 years after the end of WWII and during a routine border check and crossing between Switzerland and Germany, an interesting event took place. An elderly man in his late 70s was crossing the border from Switzerland into Germany by train. Customs officers checking passports and other documents later described the man as particularly nervous when they inspected his passport and credentials. This caused the customs officers to become suspicious. They searched the man and found about 5,000 Euros (equivalent of $9,000) in cash. Most of the man’s cash was crisp new bills, which made the customs officials even more suspicious. Upon further inspection they found that the man was sort of a mystery himself as they could not find his name in any government database. The man had never held a documented job. He had never paid taxes. Even stranger, he was not registered in the German national healthcare database. His name did not appear in the phone book, and he had no working phone. It was later discovered that he did not even own a television set. The man turned out to be a recluse with no personal or cultural associations with any clubs, churches, or other organizations. The man was Cornelius Gurlitt. And he was the son of the famous WWII art dealer made mention of in this story—Hildebrand Gurlitt.

  His identified profession was Art Collector. He had purchased an apartment in Munich, paid for in cash where he had lived alone since the 1960s. He had also purchased a home in Salzburg, Austria.

  Following the “Border Incident,” in 2012 local officials in Munich insisted on searching Cornelius Gurlitts’ apartment. They were completely shocked to find 112 framed works of art and over 1,100 unframed watercolors, sketches, and oil paintings mostly from the 18th and 19th centuries inside. These works of art were painted by some of the most well-known artists. Cornelius Gurlitt had paintings by Henri Matisse, Marc Chagall, Pablo Picasso, Renoir, Gauguin, Van Gogh, and Gustav Klimt, Gustave Courbet, and Emil Nolde. The estimated value of Gurlitt’s collection found in his Munich apartment was one billion Euros (approximately $2 billion USD). Gurlitt maintained these near-priceless paintings since his father Hildebrand died in the 1950s and passed the collection on to him. He referred to the artwork in his apartment as “his friends.” More information came to light about this mysterious man. Though strange, Cornelius Gurlitt proved to be honest and straightforward. When questioned by the police or reporters, he didn’t conceal a thing. It seemed that his only close contact or relationship during his adult life was with his sister Renate. She passed away in 2012. In the only interview he gave following the confiscation of his art treasure trove given to him by his father, Cornelius Gurlitt claimed that the last time he had watched TV was in 1963 and the last time he had seen a movie at a cinema was 1967. The interview was with Der Spiegel magazine in 2012.

  The paintings were initially seized by local government authorities in Munich, but Germany’s laws dealing with looted Nazi art from WWII were, and are still, complicated. Even if artwork is identified and proven to be “stolen” and taken during the Nazi era (commonly recognized from 1933 to 1945), the modern-day German law does not require immediate return of the artwork to the original owners unless they had made a claim within the 30-year statute of limitations, which expired in the mid-1970s. Since the majority of victims alive today related to the Holocaust were children in the early 1940s, it is highly unlikely they were knowledgeable enough about their parents’ private collections looted during the Holocaust, or about German law to make claims later. So most WWII survivors and descendants did not make claims during the statute of limitations period; and so now they must initiate complex and expensive civil lawsuits to attempt to reclaim their families’ stolen artwork from a different era.

  Cornelius Gurlitt had heart surgery in 2012 and passed away in May of 2014. He did make out a will where he directed various works of art in his possession to be returned to their original owners. The bitter irony of it all is that the oil paintings, sketches, and watercolors found in Gurlitt’s Munich apartment and home in Salzburg, Austria, have not been dispersed to date according to his will, which has been contested. The artwork he kept for so many years is currently held in a warehouse outside Munich, to undergo cleaning and restoration. The eventual fate of the pieces remains undetermined. The man who was given these masterpieces by his father after WWII told Der Spiegel, “I had no part in taking them [artwork], only in maintaining them.” Cornelius Gurlitt also claimed during his interview that losing the paintings “was a greater loss to me than losing my parents or sister.” An insight into one man’s bizarre life, and a partial answer as to what happened to some of the world’s great works of art - resulting from the human tragedy we collectively name The Holocaust.

  Author’s Note

  Although most of the historical accounts in this story are accurate, the story is fictional. During the Second World War, great security efforts were made to conceal all activity at the site of America’s atomic research, “The Hill” (later to officially be named Los Alamos National Laboratories) at Los Alamos, New Mexico. Although it is well accepted that foreign espionage activity was conducted by the Soviet Union (our ally during WWII) and that information the Soviets obtained from Klaus Fuchs, Ted Hall, and Harry Gold greatly assisted the Soviets with their nuclear development program, no tangible evidence exists of espionage activity by Nazi Germany or Japan at Los Alamos. To this author’s best knowledge, there is no evidence that local civilians attempted to assist Nazi Germany with espionage at Los Alamos.

  Although both Japan and Germany had research facilities, as described in this story, their programs were inferior and ineffective with regards to the actual devel
opment of an atomic weapon. Also, the foreign intelligence (spy) programs of Germany and Japan, if even attempted, were ineffective in piercing the security of Los Alamos. Any references or statements in this story with regards to Nazi Germany actually obtaining nuclear “secrets” from Los Alamos specifically or any other source in New Mexico are untrue and fictional. This author in no way attempts to disparage the security efforts made by military intelligence and those of law enforcement during this time.

  Some further explanation regarding the portrait which is an important part of this story is necessary. Around 1875, Edgar Degas, the French Impressionist painter, created his pastel, Five Dancing Women…(Ballerinas). The work of art had several owners, the last documented owner being Baron Mór Lipót Herzog of Hungary prior to the Second World War, who was an art collector and owner of the famous Herzog Art Collection. In this story, this pastel painting was smuggled to and hidden in Santa Fe, New Mexico. In reality however, the Five Dancing Women…(Ballerinas) by Degas has not been seen and remains unaccounted for since the Nazis confiscated most of the Herzog Collection from Hungary in 1944. This pastel is widely considered among the Top 10 Most Wanted Missing Art Works from WWII. While there have been alleged sightings of the painting since 1944, the actual whereabouts of Five Dancing Women…(Ballerinas) by Edgar Degas is unknown to this day. It remains an unsolved mystery from the Second World War.

  About The Author

  Efren O’brien has had a keen interest in US history and the history of WWII since he was in grade school. O’brien’s father was a WWII veteran who was actively involved in the European Theatre in 1944 and 1945. Also as an admirer of modern art, a resident of New Mexico and a visitor to Los Alamos National Laboratories, O’brien gained the familiarity and inspiration for this story. This is Efren O’brien’s second historical fiction novel. His first published novel is The Deserving.