SINS of the FATHER

by Marshall Huffman

  **

  Alan loaded the car and they said goodbye to the proprietors of the inn and headed out.

  “That was the best place ever,” Kate said as they drove off.

  “You say that about every place we stay.”

  “Yes. And it’s true. Everyone is the best place. I would be hard pressed to choose which one I liked best. Maybe the last one but boy, it would be hard to rank them,” she told him.

  “I don’t think we have the same accommodations tonight. Everything looked pretty updated. I did find one place that looked older than the rest but it was hard to tell much from the pictures.”

  “What is it called?”

  “Vue Sur Le Mont”

  “Never heard of it,” Kate said.

  “Okay. So?”

  “Because you seem to think I know every hotel in France. I thought I would just let you know that was one I didn’t know about.”

  “Cheeky wench.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” she taunted.

  “Smack your butt when we get there.”

  “Pervert.”

  “That’s Mr. Pervert to you.”

  “Boy, isn’t that the truth.”

  **

  Alan soon found that just having a hotel booked did not grant them access to the parking at the establishment. They had to park first, walk to the hotel, check in and then walk back to the car. They were given a code to press in so the arm on the barricade would lift. Then they could park at the hotel. There was nothing convenient about it.

  Alan parked and they took their luggage to the room. The room was just that. A room. Nothing fancy or especially inviting about it.

  “So where is the Castle or whatever.”

  “You can’t see it right now. The tide is coming in and it brings a thick fog. We won’t really be able to see it until the morning.”

  “You’re putting me on.”

  “No really. If you are watching while the tide goes out it’s kind of mystical. It just slowly appears right before your eyes,” Kate told him.

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Well true or not, let’s see what is here.”

  “Umm. I hate to tell you this,” Kate said.

  “Go on. You might as well. I’m still reeling from the magic appearing rock.”

  “Now don’t be a poop.”

  “Tell me,” Alan said.

  “Actually, other than a few hotels, restaurants and a couple of stores, nothing much is out here.”

  “So I needed to get a secret code to come here and park and see a fog bank and a few hotels, none of which are overly attractive and a few restaurants. Is that about the sum of it?” Alan asked.

  “Yeah. But you have me.”

  “And you are right, now that you put it that way. I guess all that other stuff doesn’t matter so much,” Alan replied.

  The walked around a little and checked out the menus posted outside each restaurant. They finally found one that they both agreed on. Alan looked around, seeing if he could spot any of Brandt’s people but if they were there, they were disguised or well hidden. He decided it didn’t matter much one way or the other.

  “I saw you looking around. Looking for Brandt?” Kate asked.

  “Yes and no. It doesn’t really matter too much. They knew where we were going and they have the diary so it’s no big deal if they want to waste their time spying on us,” Alan replied, glancing around once more.

  “I saw a small store on our way over here. Let’s get some wine and bread if they have any left and we can sit on the balcony.”

  “And what? No stars.”

  “Oh maybe we will just make out.”

  “Right. You think you can just have your way with me?” Alan asked in mock surprise.

  “I do and I can.”

  “Well, yeah, there is that.”

  “You are so easy,” she said.

  “Thank you for noticing.”

  She just shook her head.

  They made a quick stop after dinner and walked hand in hand back to the hotel.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Alan was dressed and looking out the window when Kate finally stirred. She sat up and looked at him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for the mystery mountain to appear.”

  “Alan, It’s on the other side of the building.”

  “Ah. I knew that.”

  “Good because otherwise I might think you had lost your mind.”

  “Well I did a couple of times last night,” he said smiling.

  “I need some space. Go watch Saint-Michel appear but do it on the other side,” Kate said pointing.

  “Okeydokey,” he replied.

  Alan was sitting on the bench waiting for Kate when he begin to notice a vague form appearing. The longer he sat the more the form came into view. Just about the time Kate arrived he could make out the general shape of Saint-Michel.

  “Wow. That’s really cool,” he replied.

  “In an hour or so, you will really be able to see it. I checked the weather and it is supposed to be clear and warm later on today. It will be a good day to see it.”

  “It looks a long way off.”

  “And it is,” Kate said.

  “And we really have to walk all that way?”

  “No. They have busses that will take you most of the way. A lot of people walk but most Americans want to ride the bus.”

  “Lazy huh?”

  “Undoubtedly. How many really obese people have you seen in France? Hardly any. That’s because they work a heck of a lot harder and walk ten times more. Most Americans are just too lazy to walk. That’s why we are so dependent on oil. We drive everyplace,” Kate pontificated.

  “Not to put too fine a point on it, I’m one of those lazy Americans and I want to take the bus.”

  Kate just rolled her eyes.

  They crossed over to the bus stop and waited until this funny looking bus came along. It looked like someone had forgotten to put half the driver's cab on it. Where the driver sat, it was only half as wide as the bus. They got on and found two seats and plopped down.

  “This is unusual. We are still fairly early.”

  “Meaning?” Alan asked.

  “Usually these things are crammed full.”

  “I thought only Americans rode the bus.”

  “Alan. Don’t start in on me.”

  “I was just...”

  “Stop.”

  “Yes dear.”

  The bus dropped them off about a quarter of a mile from the city. It was enormous. Alan could hardly believe that there was an entire city right out here in the middle of the water. How in the world could they have built such a thing without the modern equipment we have today. Even now it would be challenging. It was built between 400 and 1500. Amazing.

  “Wow.”

  “Yes. That’s what I thought when I came here,” Kate said.

  “You said it was amazing but that doesn’t really do it justice,” Alan said.

  “It’s close to 250 acres in size. That is a lot of area for us to cover to find what we are looking for,” Kate said.

  “It will probably not be any place too obvious. So far they have been on crosses. We need to find out if there is a cemetery here.”

  “I would imagine there would be one someplace. Where, is the question?”

  “Let’s see what we can find out. There are a ton of restaurants and shops. Someone in one of these is bound to know where it is,” Alan said.

  “Pick one and we will give it a shot. If not, the church is at the very top so we can go there and see what we can find out,” Kate told him.

  The entered a café and a waiter ambled over.

  “Bonjour.”

  “Bonjour,” Kate replied.

  “May I help you?”

  “Two Coke-Lights,” she said.

  Alan could tell he went away disappointed. No espresso? No cappuccino? Humph, America
ns.

  He brought them their drinks with maybe two cubes of ice.

  “Excuse me,” Kate said before he could get away.

  “Oui?”

  “Can you direct us to the cemetery?”

  “Which one?”

  “Oh dear. How many are there?” Kate asked.

  “Two main ones and four smaller ones.”

  “I see. Well then I guess we just stumble around until we find them,” she said practically batting her eyes at him.

  It worked. He got a map of the isle and put a mark on where each was located. He was practically drooling by the time she was done with him. Men. We are such pigs.

  “So, that was easy,” Kate said.

  “Yeah if you let him look half way down your dress,” he replied slightly miffed.

  “You’re just mad because he could see and you couldn’t,” she shot back.

  “Well duh.”

  “Men. You are such pigs,” she replied.

  “No kidding. I was just thinking that same thing about him,” Alan replied.

  “Not just him. All of you.”

  He wanted to have a good argument for that insult but in fact I couldn’t think of anything I could say that was the least bit true.

  “Come on, we have a lot of ground to cover,” she said and off we went.

  **

  An hour later they had covered the two larger cemeteries. They wasn’t really expecting to turn up much. It would have been pretty noticeable, a string of numbers on a cross where none belonged.

  “You want to start at the upper one and work our way down or start low and work our way up?” Kate asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. It will be the last one we look at no matter what. It always works that way,” he assured her.

  “You are a pessimist, Alan Lang,” she rebuked.

  “I think of it as being a realist.”

  “Pessimist,” she muttered.

  “Let’s start down and work up,”Alan suggested.

  “Because?”

  “If we find it before the last one, we get to stop and come down sooner. Otherwise we go all that way for nothing.”

  “You sound like an American.”

  “Hey, I am.” Alan exclaimed.

  “Oh yeah. I forgot. I saw your feet actually move there for a minute.”

  “Ha, ha. Very funny."

  “Come on, time is a wasting,” she said and we started up the cobblestone stairs.

  There were only about a million steps to the first small cemetery. Alan was huffing and puffing by they reached the first cemetery. They systematically went about looking at each cross. Thankfully there were only a few dozen graves and none had a references to coordinates. Alan just shook his head. It was going to be in the top one for sure.

  “No use waiting. Let’s hit the next one,” Kate said.

  They climbed higher and found the second cemetery. It had a gate across it that caused them to come to a halt.

  “Now what?” Kate asked.

  “I don’t know. Why would it be locked?”

  “I don’t have a clue. Maybe someone vandalized it at one time,” Kate said.

  “I guess anything is possible. What do you think the chances are it’s in this one?”

  “One in three,” Kate said smiling.

  “Oh, that’s rich. One in three. You are turning into a real comedian. One in three,” Alan snorted.

  “So do we go on to the next one?” Kate asked.

  “Is anyone coming?”

  “Why?”

  “I can get over this railing in nothing flat. You just keep a lookout and if you see someone, I’ll hide behind that center tombstone.”

  “Alan. You’re actually going to break into a cemetery?” she asked.

  “It’s easier to break into one than out of one.”

  “That’s just sick. Alright, but make it fast. I don’t like this very much.”

  “I’m not too fond of it either. Okay, keep a good lookout and whistle if anyone comes this way.”

  “Just go,” she said.

  Alan scrambled over the top of the railing and started looking at the crosses and tombstones. He was almost to the end when he hit pay dirt. He took out his pen and paper and copied down the coordinates. He was almost done when he heard Kate yell, ‘coming’. He ran and hid for several seconds. He could hear someone talking and then it was quiet again.

  “Okay,” Kate’s voice rang out.

  Alan went back, checked the numbers and scrambled back over the wall.

  “Well?” Kate asked.

  “Got them.”

  “No way.”

  “Really. I was writing them down when you alerted me. Who was it?” Alan asked.

  “Some single guy wanting to show me around. It took me a while to get rid of him.”

  “ Look this place is nice and all but I’ve see all I need to see. Let’s just get out of here,” Alan said.

  “Oh come on. We are here. It is a beautiful day. You will probably never be this way again. Let’s just spend the rest of the day here and then move on,” Kate replied.

  “You’re right. I’m just a little pumped from my B & E.”

  “B & E?”

  “Breaking and Entering.”

  “Of a grave? You are a real criminal,” Kate said.

  “You have to start someplace,” Alan answered.

  “Come on hardened criminal. Take me to lunch.”

  “You got part of that right,” he muttered.

  “I heard that,” Kate said swatting him on the arm.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “Gégorie, what have you found out?” Kluge said.

  “Alors! Would you quit sneaking up on me like that. How did you get past the bell?” Gégorie DuChett asked.

  “Trade secrets. Never mind that. What about the diary?”

  “I just finished it last night. I am 75 percent certain the last pages are forgeries. Who I don’t know but I see several small differences. It was done very well. If I weren’t one of the best, I’ll venture to say it would have never been caught.”

  “That is very interesting but it raises more questions than it answers. If someone added that part why wouldn’t his grandfather have just torn it out or denied he wrote it? From what I have found out he did neither. Instead he let his father think he did those things. That doesn’t make any sense. On one hand it explains why he had no money to speak of but to let his own father think he was a traitor is difficult to imagine,” Kluge said.

  “I can’t answer for any of that but I am certain the last pages were not in his handwriting. Unfortunately I have no one else to compare them with.”

  “I see you have the diary now,” he said picking it up off the desk.

  “Yes. Finkel dropped it off. It seems Lang decided to share the information since he appears to be at a dead end.”

  “Interesting. And what did you find?”

  “A hell of a war hero. A survivor. More medals than you can imagine. Wounded twice, stayed with his unit. Fought on Utah Beach in Normandy. Across France, and the Battle of the Bulge. A very impressive person.”

  “And?”

  “No ands. He was sent back to Paris after the Battle of the Bulge. He had been severely injured and needed treatment. He was still in Paris when Hitler was killed. His last assignment was working with the provisional government trying to keep a Civil War from breaking out,” Gégorie,” replied.

  “What about the gold and diamonds?” Kluge asked.

  “The only reference is on the last pages that I have determined to be forgeries.”

  Kluge was rubbing his chin, lost in thought. It just didn’t add up. Why would anyone let people think he was a murder and traitor? He could appreciate the dilemma that Lang was going through a little more.

  “What about Brandt?”

  “What about him?” Gégorie said.

  “Does he know any of this yet?”

  “No. You said to call you first which I was just about to do af
ter I checked my work one more time. I doubt my opinion will change but you know I always check and double check. It is how mistakes are avoided,” Gégorie said.

  “Gégorie I have enjoyed our relationship but I think it would be best if you did not tell Brandt what you found out.”

  “I don’t understand. That means that Lang was telling the truth and he doesn’t know what happened. No one does. Brandt will be no closer than before.”

  “I’m sorry, I have my own reasons,” Kluge told him.

  “But what can I say? I lost it? Someone stole it? I can’t very tell them the diary just vanished,” Gégorie replied.

  “I thought about that. And you are right you can’t say that and have them believe you. You need a better reason,” Kluge said and pulled his pistol out of his pocket and shot Gégorie in the head.

  As he crumpled to the floor Kluge stood over him and shot him twice more in the heart. It was his trademark.

  **

  “Finkel just got back from going to see Gégorie. He doesn’t look too happy,” Durr said looking out of the café window.

  Finkel came storming in and grabbed a chair.

  “It still isn’t ready?” Brandt asked.

  “Gégorie is dead. Shot in the head and twice in the heart,” Finkel reported.

  “Kluge.”

  “No doubt.”

  “The diary?” Brandt asked.

  “Gone.”

  “This is not good,” Brandt said stating the obvious.

  “I must have arrived very shortly after Kluge killed him. The blood wasn’t congealed yet,” Finkel told him.

  “Did you have any time to look around?”

  “Just a few minutes. I found this pad of paper so I brought it. Maybe we can get something off of it.”

  “Good,” Brandt said taking it from Finkel.

  “I have a pencil. I took it from Gégorie’s desk.”

  “Let me have it,” Brandt said.

  He laid the paper down and lightly went back and forth over the paper. A faint outline started to appear.

  “Easy,” Finkel said.

  “Can you read this? I looks like it says forgery but I can’t make out the rest,” Brandt said holding it up to the light.

  Finkel took it from him and looked at it carefully.

  “75 percent sure last pages forgery,” Finkel read aloud.