The Heritage Paper

by Derek Ciccone

  Zach placed the document back in the box with a sad shake of the head. “Ninety minutes—that’s how long the conference lasted. Ninety minutes to decide to murder six million people—and half the time they seemed more interested in their cognac.”

  Veronica reached into the box and pulled out a small index card. On it was the First Manhattan Trust logo with the term VSD. Underneath VSD was a username and password.

  Veronica had no idea what it meant, so she handed it to Zach. He looked equally confused. They called in Mrs. Blythe to explain, since it was a bank issued card.

  “VSD stands for Virtual Safe Deposit,” she stated. “Recent legislation has made digitally signed documents legally binding. To accommodate this, First Manhattan Trust became one of the first banks to offer an online safe-deposit box.”

  “So we go to the Internet site, sign in using our password, and that will take us to our virtual safe-deposit box?” Zach asked.

  Mrs. Blythe nodded. “Yes—the great advantage is 24-hour access.”

  Zach and Mrs. Blythe briefly chitchatted about new bank technology. When she left, Zach pulled out his phone and brought up the Internet.

  “I can’t believe the kids’ great-grandmother was so much more tech savvy than I am,” Veronica bemoaned.

  Zach put in the user name and password that was left for them in the lockbox. On the screen appeared the one document Ellen stored in her virtual safe-deposit box. Zach smiled, as did Veronica.

  The memoir.

  A second copy.

  A second source to back up Youkelstein’s tape.

  There were two more items in the bin. One was a small booklet that looked like an address book. It was an inventory of precious art stolen by the Nazis. Some Veronica was familiar with, while others were obscure. She vowed to return the art to its the rightful owners, and knew just the person to make that happen.

  The last item was a hand-held video player. Veronica placed the earbud headphones in and turned it on.

  When she hit play, Ellen’s face came onto the screen. She was wearing the same outfit she wore on the tape they viewed in Kingston’s room. At first, Veronica thought it was a copy of the same video. A necessary copy, since Ellen accurately predicted that Kingston would destroy the video and the memoir. The old lady had been right about every move so far.

  Veronica made eye contact with the dead woman. It was an eerie experience.

  Ellen somberly began, “Veronica—this tape is for your ears and yours alone. Do not allow anyone else to view this video.”

  When she said it, Veronica felt a chill down her spine.

  Chapter 81

  Veronica wandered away from Zach and sat on a bench. She held the small video screen inches from her face, as if that would help her hear better.

  “Now that you’ve found a copy of the memoir, I want to let you know I left out one important chapter. The reason I did so was that I believe you, as Maggie and Jamie’s mother, are the executor of their heritage. Only you can decide what information will help them to grow, versus what will hang a burden on them. As my husband Harold used to say—pressure will either crush you or turn you into diamonds.

  So that’s where Carsten got that saying.

  “If it were up to me, I’d choose for you to never inform them of what I’m about to tell you.”

  Veronica filled with fear. There was something about those piercing, pale blue eyes staring back at her. She took a quick look at a pacing Zach, whose natural curiosity was eating at him. Maggie and Jamie remained oblivious, still involved in the Sibling Olympics.

  Ellen continued, “It is true that my mother, Etta, was a prostitute in Munich during World War I. It was there she met and became impregnated by a young German corporal. But it wasn’t until I was almost fourteen that my mother, then bedridden and nearing death, revealed to me who my biological father was.

  “During the creation of her Heritage Paper, Maggie kept asking me why my son Josef was ‘chosen’ to lead the return of the Reich. I never answered her. Because he wasn’t chosen … he was born into it. He was an heir to the throne. And that’s because I’m the daughter of Adolf Hitler. And that’s the real reason he took me in and protected me.”

  Veronica felt like her head just exploded. Did she just say what she thought she just said?

  Veronica rewound the video, but the result was the same.

  I’m the daughter of Adolf Hitler.

  She did it again.

  Adolf Hitler.

  Again.

  Hitler.

  When Veronica found her bearings, she updated the family tree in her head. If what Ellen said was true, Adolf Hitler and Etta Sarowitz had a child, Ellen Sarowitz-Peterson. That was what Kingston meant about royal blood.

  The bloodline had thinned dramatically over the years, including young deaths for Josef, Harry Jr. and Carsten. And coming in contact with the lineage from the outside appeared to be just as deadly. It had befallen Greta Peterson, Flavia’s mother ... and Eddie. She didn’t think that any of this was a coincidence.

  Veronica looked into Ellen’s eyes, desperately searching for some clue as if to say she’s a little coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs. But there was none. And after the last couple of days, how could Veronica legitimately dismiss it?

  She stared out at Maggie and Jamie, feeling helpless. She had tried to protect them from everything—took every precaution—but in the end there was an evil embedded inside them. Derived from a gene cesspool. They were descendents of the devil.

  Ellen provided a moment for it to sink in, as if she understood what her reaction would be, before continuing, “There are four remaining members in the blood line—Maggie, Jamie, Flavia, and James, who I presume has been elected president. He has known the secret since his formative years, and I informed Flavia yesterday in a similar manner to this. I asked her to bring that video to James—a last ditch effort for him to come to his senses, which I’m sure failed.

  “Otto, or Aligor Sterling as you might have known him, is the only other member of the Apostles who is aware of this secret. So whether Jamie or Maggie ever learns of this information, is completely up to you. But recently I’ve become worried that an outside force has discovered this secret, and in the future, will attempt to harm those in the bloodline. So telling you this is also a call for awareness on your part.

  “I know what you must be thinking, Veronica, but I don’t want you to jump to conclusions about any path Maggie or Jamie may take. History has already delivered its overwhelming verdict on my father, but what I can tell you is he was not programmed to become what he became. It was not genetic destiny, as most of the Apostles believe. Events shape our destiny, just as they shaped my father. His choices were regrettable, but not inherited.

  “After burying my children, I vowed to spend the rest of my life protecting my family from these harmful secrets. Especially Carsten, who I never wanted to find my letters to Heinrich. Like his father, he couldn’t handle it, and snapped. And that’s why he did that to you—not a violent nature handed down through genetics.”

  Veronica looked quizzically at the screen—did she know?

  “Yes, Veronica—he came to me that night and revealed his actions. I never saw him so ashamed, and he vowed that he would never raise a hand to you or the children ever again. I’m confident he didn’t. You are too strong to have stayed if he did. You must trust me when I tell you he loved you and the children more than anything in this world.”

  Ellen was now crying on the screen. Veronica cried with her, as if they were sharing it.

  From a distance, Zach looked like he wasn’t sure if he should help or not. But she looked right past him toward Maggie and Jamie. They were now sitting on the floor with the bored looks of typical kids. No longer competing—united in their boredom.

  Ellen looked as if she were drowning in regret. “Perhaps all this could have been avoided if I’d done a better job as a mother. You see, Veronica, mothers are the most powerful creatures in shaping the good
of the world. I failed my children, which makes me realize how lucky that Maggie and Jamie are to have you. Despite our differences, I’ve always respected your stewardship of the children, and often envied it. I know you will bring out their goodness.

  “But while I’m confident that they will forge their own path, I do see a few qualities in them handed down from my father.” A lump the size of a basketball clogged Veronica’s throat. Not the words a mother wants to hear. “I have seen his passion in Maggie, and I’ve noticed a similar charisma in Jamie. But remember, when guided the right way those qualities can be great attributes. Your children are a blank canvas, and you have always been a great artist. Godspeed, Veronica.”

  With those words, the video went dark. Veronica removed the headphones.

  “Are you okay?” Zach asked in a hesitant voice, as he approached her.

  Why wouldn’t she be okay? No biggie—she just learned that her children were related to the devil.

  Veronica wiped away tears. “I’m fine—she just had a few things she wanted to get off her chest about Carsten. Kind of a final goodbye.”

  Zach nodded, but she could tell he was skeptical.

  Then Maggie’s voice filled the vault, in her best twelve-year-old whine, “Are you almost ready, Mom?”

  Jamie seconded, “Yeah, it’s so boring here!”

  Zach looked at his watch, “If I’m going to make Baer’s show, we better get going.”

  Veronica agreed. But as she stood, she pretended to lose her grip on the device. She dropped it to the floor, but it was still breathing. So she “accidentally” stepped on it with the heel of her boot. She twisted her heel until she was confident it had no chance of ever working again.

  She would take the secret to her grave.

  Chapter 82

  Veronica and the kids were dropped off in front of Beth Israel Hospital. The Secret Service showed some chivalry, helping them across the busy sidewalk and into the lobby.

  A nurse led them to Ben’s room on the third floor. They were met by Flavia, who informed them that Ben had a “rough night,” but was much better this morning.

  Veronica looked to Youkelstein. “You look much better this morning, considering.”

  His ashen face lit up. “Never underestimate the healing powers of a beautiful young woman.”

  He nodded in Flavia’s direction. Veronica faked a smile and held back any urge to let him know she wasn’t that young.

  “He’s just buttering me up so he can steal more money from me in cards,” Flavia replied with a flirtatious wink.

  Maggie walked to the bedside table and picked up the deck of cards. “What were you playing?”

  “Strip poker,” Youkelstein said, grinning. “I must admit I cheated, but it was well worth it.”

  Veronica cringed. She also wondered what Mr. Nazi Hunter would think if he knew he was flirting with Hitler’s great-granddaughter. She doubted he’d be in such a jovial mood if she’d revealed the secret to him.

  Veronica approached Youkelstein’s bedside and reached into her bag. She pulled out an item and handed it to him. “I brought you a present.”

  He looked confused by it.

  “It’s the notes from the Wannsee Conference. You know, Die Endlösung der Judenfrage. I think what you’ll find most interesting is it contains the missing minutes,” she said like she was an expert on the subject.

  He appeared awed.

  “I also have in my possession a list of stolen Nazi art, and its location, that I will leave in your care to return to the rightful owners.”

  Youkelstein looked like he was on the verge of tears.

  Veronica had one more thing for him—an apology. “I’m sorry for doubting you, Ben. Without you I’d never have gotten my children back. I owe you my life.”

  He waved his bony hand dismissively, almost yanking the IV tube out of his arm. “I didn’t take it personally. My only agenda is to eliminate this evil from the planet, and so far I haven’t been able to. Time ruthlessly moves on, and at my age I’m sadly running out of it.”

  Chapter 83

  The loud growl of the angry bear shook the room.

  Last night, Youkelstein had his assistant bring over a radio from his apartment so he could listen to election results. It was a bulky relic that looked like something a family would gather around in 1938, listening to War of the Worlds. He still hadn’t accepted that television wasn’t just a passing fad.

  Theodore Baer aggressively took control of the airwaves with no hint of the humility that should accompany such a historic defeat. “My fellow Baer Cubs,” he shouted. “They think they have defeated us, but little do they know the fight has just begun! We might have lost the battle last night, but we’re going to win the war!

  “They compare Kingston to JFK, but he will go down as the next William Henry Harrison.” After a dramatic pause, he continued, “For those of you who weren’t paying attention in history class, Harrison was the ninth president of the United States. He died thirty-seven days after taking office, giving him the distinction of having the shortest tenure as president of the United States. A record Jim Kingston will break!”

  Veronica sighed. She couldn’t believe the fate of the world was in the hands of this narcissistic loud mouth.

  “And now that I have your attention, I want to introduce a guest who will further this topic. He has been working on an investigative report concerning Kingston that will blow your minds—so without further ado, I’d like to introduce Hudson Valley Times columnist, and former Newsbreaker correspondent, Zach Chester. But starting today, the only title he’ll be known by is: Jim Kingston’s worst nightmare. Good morning, Mr. Chester.”

  “Good morning, Theodore,” Zach’s voice filled the airwaves and it brought a smile to all faces in the hospital room. It was the first time they’d been out of the shadows in days, and it felt liberating.

  “Please tell us, Mr. Chester, about your shocking story that will hit newsstands tomorrow.”

  “As some people might know by now, a woman named Ellen Peterson recently confessed that she was an intricate member of the Nazi hierarchy during World War II. And that she had arrived in the United States as part of an organized escape plan, which included twelve of the most loyal members of Hitler’s inner circle, who called themselves the Apostles.

  “Their mission was to plant the seeds of infiltration that would lead to an eventual return of the Reich. Through my investigation, I learned that some of the notables involved in this group were Gestapo Chief Heinrich Müller, Reichsführer-SS Himmler, and Rudolph Hess. Even Hitler’s wife, Eva Braun, took part in the plot. They faked their deaths, using doppelgangers to cover their tracks. To paraphrase Mark Twain, reports of their demise were greatly exaggerated.”

  Veronica was impressed. Zach started a little nervous, but by the second sentence he sounded confident, and more importantly, believable. Well, as believable as he could sound making insane accusations.

  Baer played devil’s advocate, “But this Peterson woman had a history of being a nut job. Just weeks earlier she wandered out on a cold night because she saw aliens, correct?”

  Zach didn’t fluster. “On the surface, her mental state raises many questions. But we discovered a methodical road map of clues she purposely left behind. It would be impossible to form such a coordinated effort if she were mentally impaired. And earlier this morning I was able to review the contents of a safe-deposit box, which contained considerable evidence to back up her claims.”

  “Tell us about this group, the Apostles, and more importantly, how is this related to the election?”

  “I think the most important fact would be that the Apostles were based on four elite families embedded within the United States. One of those families was named Kingston, another was Sterling.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you saying that Aligor Sterling, the great champion of the Jewish community, and dare I add, Kingston’s biggest financial contributor, is a Nazi supporter?”

 
; “No, I am saying that he is an actual card-carrying Nazi.”

  “And he’s conspiring with the president-elect of the United States? These are some serious claims, but why should anyone believe you? I hope you have more to back up your claims than you’ve shown so far.”

  “I don’t expect anyone to believe me. That’s why I think it would be best for Aligor Sterling to tell the story in his own words. My guess is that he’ll be a much more believable witness.”

  Baer acted shocked, but he knew very well that Zach had the Sterling tape. It was the only reason he allowed him on the show.

  And they played it.

  It began with Youkelstein’s voice accusing Sterling of being a German spy named Otto. Sterling not only didn’t deny it, but detailed how he infiltrated the Terezin concentration camp and befriended Youkelstein in preparation for his future existence in the United States. He referred to it as “research.” The tape then morphed into a conspiracy theorists dream, including one of the world’s biggest mass murderers—Himmler—rising up the financial ladders of the United States, under the alias of Jacob Sterling. And Gestapo Chief Heinrich Müller working for the CIA.

  And the grassy knoll kept growing—Bormann, Rudolf Hess, and the rest of the Apostles were revealed. But Sterling’s most disturbing claim was that he helped finance 9/11 as part of a strategy to blame Israel for the tragedy—in what he believed would spark a revolution, while he himself would serve as the sacrificial lamb.

  When the tape shut off, Baer’s voice was filled with smugness. Veronica’s own satisfaction came from Zach keeping his word, by not mentioning Maggie and Jamie. They were so engrossed in their card game that they wouldn’t have noticed anyway. Jamie’s disinterest didn’t surprise her, but Maggie had been front and center in this thing, and often the driving force. Maybe she realized the adult stuff couldn’t compare to being a kid. Veronica sure hoped so.