The Witnesses

by Robert Whitlow

  “You broke into his office?”

  “No, of course not. But that’s not important for our purposes now.”

  “And what is your purpose in kidnapping me?”

  “You haven’t been kidnapped. You’ll be free to leave when we’re finished,” Krieger answered, turning to the man with blond hair.

  “Yes, sir,” the man replied. “That’s what I told him at his house.”

  “Which is the truth,” Krieger replied, refocusing on Frank. “You’re here because I’d like to see an injustice made right. My grandfather obtained some items from a residence in Siena during the war, and I want to see them returned to their rightful owners.”

  “And you don’t have them?” Frank asked.

  “The crates from the house in Siena were stolen by someone toward the end of the war and have never resurfaced, which makes me believe they’ve been kept intact.” Krieger held up a folder. “My grandfather made a detailed inventory. There are paintings by Giorgione, Lippi, gold work by Cellini, two small sculptures by Bernini, and multiple gold and silver pieces. It was an amazing collection brought together by several wealthy families from Florence and Venice for storage in a nondescript house in Siena. Museums all over Europe would be thrilled to have any of these items on display.”

  “What about the true and rightful owners?” Frank asked. “Wouldn’t they have a say in that?”

  “The Jews?” Krieger asked. “No heirs exist. I’ve done my research. All members of the families perished. There were no survivors.”

  Frank felt like he was about to throw up.

  “I am aware there was unexpected violence when three residents of the house tried to kill my grandfather,” Krieger continued. “Their blood is on their own heads.”

  “No!” Frank replied. “I was there! They were gunned down on the sidewalk!”

  “Many unfortunate things happen in a war,” Krieger replied calmly. “Millions of men are swept up in events over which they, as individuals, have no control.”

  “Not in my war,” Frank said. “We all made choices.”

  “Partly true,” Krieger responded with a nod. “You chose to desert your unit and flee to Switzerland. And that choice caused Conrad to barely escape with his life.”

  “How? Why?” Frank asked.

  Mueller stepped forward with his fists clenched. Krieger easily restrained the older man by holding out his arm and blocking him.

  “Conrad, please. There are no enemies here. Don’t open old wounds.”

  Frank looked into Mueller’s eyes, but the former private’s countenance didn’t reveal the truth.

  “I was blamed for your desertion,” Mueller said, “and sent to the Russian front where I lost two fingers, half of my left foot, and suffered the unbearable pain of frostbite over much of my body.” Mueller raised the remaining fingers on his left hand and pointed them at Frank. “And it’s your fault!”

  “When you said I saved your life—”

  “In your arrogance you believed me,” Mueller said, cutting him off. “It should have been you, not me, who was sent to his death!”

  “Enough!” Krieger raised his hand, and Mueller moved back a step.

  Frank looked at Mueller’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he began. “If I’d known—”

  “We’ve all suffered here,” Krieger snapped. “The Russians shot my grandfather in the middle of a Berlin street and dragged his body behind a truck until his face was unrecognizable. I wouldn’t want anyone to share his fate. But this is our chance to make many things right. If you want to compensate Conrad, I have a way for you to do so. We’re not the only people trying to locate the treasures of Siena. There are those who want to profit for themselves, but with your help we can keep that from happening.”

  “How?”

  “Tell us where to find what we’re looking for, Hauptmann, and we will all share in the reward.”

  “I’ve not been a hauptmann for a long time,” Frank replied.

  “It was a slip,” Krieger said with a slight smile. “I’ve thought about you in that way for so long it’s hard to adjust. But unlike when you stood before my grandfather, I have no authority to order you to do anything.”

  “You mentioned a reward,” Frank said. “What do you mean?”

  “A finder’s fee would be in order so long as it is reasonable. The amount would depend on the condition of the artifacts and their value. If you like, we can prepare a written agreement—”

  “I’d want my grandson to do that,” Frank said. “He’s a lawyer. Conrad met him.”

  Mueller nodded. “We can prepare a short-form memorandum now that your grandson can formalize in a document acceptable to you,” Krieger said with a satisfied smile. “I suggest we agree on a percentage of value based on the average of three independent appraisals. All we’re asking you to do is tell us where to look. We’ll do everything else and cover all costs of the operation. Once recovery occurs and value is confirmed, you’ll be notified immediately.”

  “Thirty-three and a third percent,” Frank said. “You know I could ask for more, because without me you have nothing.”

  Mueller looked at Krieger, who ignored him.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of ten percent,” Krieger responded smoothly. “I agree your role is key, but my people will bear all the risks inherent in a treasure hunt like this.”

  Frank paused for a few moments. “Twenty-five percent, which is nonnegotiable.”

  “Agreed,” Krieger replied immediately.

  “No!” Mueller said. “That’s more than twice what you promised me if I—”

  “And you accepted,” Krieger cut in. “You made your deal and should be grateful for it.”

  Krieger called over the blond-haired man and whispered instructions in his ear.

  “Gerhardt will prepare the memorandum for us to sign,” he said to Frank.

  “Make sure it includes everything found in Siena,” Frank added.

  “Of course, that sets the boundaries,” Krieger said. “In the meantime, I suggest you begin the process of determining where the treasure is located. Would you like something to drink? We have a fully stocked bar. Do you need to be alone in a quiet place? That can be arranged. Virtually anything you need is at your disposal.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Frank replied.

  “Why not?” Krieger asked, a surprised look on his face.

  “Because I already know the answer.”

  Parker and Layla stood on the front porch. Parker used his key to unlock the door.

  “Where do you think he is?” Layla asked.

  “He could be out on the water night fishing with Lenny. Sometimes one of the men who worked for him on the Aare will swing by and take him out to dinner.”

  “Opa!” Parker called out as soon as they were inside.

  It took only a few seconds to confirm that the house was empty.

  “Even though I’m sure he’s okay, he ought to get one of those things he can hang around his neck in case he needs to push a button and call 911,” Parker said.

  “Would he agree to do that?” Layla asked.

  “No,” Parker replied. “And if I tried to make him do it, he’d wear it on his boat, drop it in the water, and claim it was an accident.”

  “What should we do now?” Layla asked.

  “We can put his meal in the fridge. He’ll enjoy it later.”

  “You should probably call my father now,” Layla said after they divided the food and put some in the refrigerator.

  Parker took out his phone and turned it on. He’d missed three calls. “Should I listen to the messages before I do that?” he asked her. “A call at this point may be a waste of time.”

  “Don’t drag me into this, Parker.”

  “You’re the one who brought it up—”

  The phone in the kitchen rang.

  “I’m going to answer that call first,” Parker said.

  Going into the kitchen, he picked up the receiver.


  “Frank?” a male voice asked when Parker answered.

  “It’s Parker.”

  “Oh, this is Lenny. I was calling to check on your grandfather. We spent the entire day on the water, but he was so distracted that he wasn’t even there. And not just because the fish weren’t biting. Something else was really working on his mind.”

  “Well, he’s not here now,” Parker replied. “I brought him a surprise dinner to cheer him up, but I don’t know where he is. His car is gone. Did he mention going out with anyone else this evening?”

  “He didn’t say anything to me. He dropped me off at the dock late this afternoon. After that he was going to run down to Little River Marina and tank up with gas.”

  “So he may not have come home yet?”

  “Possibly, although that was a couple of hours ago, and it’s dark now.”

  “Is there a chance he went night fishing?”

  “No way,” Lenny answered. “After the day we had on the water, he doesn’t want to see a fishing pole for at least twenty-four hours to get the bad memory out of his mind.”

  The mention of bad memories made Parker’s stomach suddenly knot up.

  “Okay, thanks,” he said.

  “Call me when you find out where he is,” Lenny said. “I’ll be worrying until I hear from you.”

  “Sure, thanks for checking.”

  Parker hung up the phone. He rested his hand against the wall and tried to figure out where his grandfather might be.

  “Parker! Come here!” Layla called out.

  Parker joined her in the living room.

  “Look what I found behind the door.”

  In Layla’s hand was a thick black plastic connector that had been fastened together but then cut in two.

  “Should this be here?” she asked, handing it to him.

  Parker turned the tie over between his fingers. “This is heavy-duty, but I’m sure he has things like this in his tool kit.”

  “But what would he use it for in the living room?”

  “I don’t know. And he never leaves anything on the floor. Believe me, I know. Picking up after yourself isn’t an option in this house.”

  Parker checked the door to see if something was broken and the tie was an effort at a temporary fix. Nothing seemed out of order.

  But in his heart, Parker knew that wasn’t the case.

  CHAPTER 41

  Every eye in the room was trained on Frank.

  “We’ll wait for the agreement,” Frank said calmly. “I want everything confirmed in writing.”

  “Yes, yes,” Krieger said impatiently and then motioned for another man to come over to him. Krieger spoke to him, and the man left.

  “The treasure is somewhere that will make it difficult for you to recover it,” Frank said while they waited.

  “As I mentioned earlier, that’s not your concern,” Krieger responded. “Once we know where to look, the problem is ours, not yours.”

  Gerhardt returned with a single sheet of paper in his hand and handed it to Krieger, who quickly scanned it.

  “This is clear enough,” Krieger said before handing the sheet to Frank.

  It was in German and succinctly set out the terms of their agreement. There were signature lines for Frank and Krieger.

  “Where does Conrad sign?” Frank asked when he finished reading it. “I want his commitment too.”

  “It’s not necessary,” Krieger replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m in charge.”

  “I want Conrad to sign it,” Frank insisted.

  Krieger’s face turned slightly red for a moment before the German regained his composure.

  “Very well.”

  He took the paper from Frank, drew another line on the bottom with a pen, wrote “Conrad Mueller” beneath it, and handed it back to Frank.

  “There, it’s done,” Krieger said. “Satisfied?”

  “Yes.”

  Frank signed his name and watched as Krieger and Mueller did the same.

  “Copies for all of us, please,” Frank said. “I’ll need two so I can give an original to my grandson.”

  The blond-haired man left the room, and Krieger fidgeted while they waited.

  “It would be a good idea to fax a copy to my grandson’s law office,” Frank said. “That way he’ll already have one when I call him about it.”

  “Gerhardt will take care of that later this evening,” Krieger replied.

  The blond-haired Gerhardt returned and distributed the copies of the agreement to the three men. Krieger then dismissed everyone except Frank and Mueller from the room. Krieger and Mueller pulled up chairs and sat in front of Frank. Up close, Frank could see that Krieger was wearing an expensive watch, and a diamond-encrusted thick gold ring circled one of his fingers.

  “It’s an incredible honor to be part of this venture with you,” Krieger said, not able to hide the excitement in his voice. “Now, what can you tell us?”

  “First, what happens with me is not a science.”

  “Understood,” Krieger replied.

  “And I don’t know the condition of any of the items stolen, I mean confiscated, by your grandfather.”

  “There’s no use focusing on the unknown,” Krieger said impatiently. “Tell us what you do know.”

  Frank spoke calmly. “I know that I’m not going to help you. There was a time when I would have done what you’ve asked without questioning and not given much thought to the consequences. But I’m not that man anymore. Much has changed in what I believe and what I’m willing to do in life. Herr Krieger, what happened in Siena wasn’t a part of a war. It was a war crime. And for those reasons, I’m not going to reveal anything.”

  The veins on Krieger’s neck bulged out, and he jumped to his feet. Red-faced, he jabbed his finger in Frank’s face. “I didn’t come halfway around the world to waste my time debating the past with you! You will tell me what you know! And you will do it now!”

  At the sound of Krieger’s voice, the other men came running back into the room.

  “Is there a problem, sir?” Gerhardt asked.

  Krieger kept his attention riveted on Frank. “Don’t push me, Haus,” he said. “My family has spent decades in this search. And you’re going to help me finish it. Out with it!”

  Frank felt the strange calm of a man who considered his life over. No threats could touch him. No reservoir of fear remained in his soul.

  “I did a great wrong in Siena,” he said. “And I will not add new guilt to the old. Do what you want to me. I won’t change my mind.”

  “Why did you ask for an agreement and sign it?” Mueller asked.

  “That wasn’t for me,” Frank replied, turning to his former comrade. “It was for you. Someday soon you’re going to remember this moment in a time and at a place when it will mean something very different to you. When that happens, my words will be written like fire across your heart, and you will have one last chance to repent. In the only way that truly matters, I am giving you a chance to save your life.”

  Mueller’s face was pale.

  “You’re an old fool. Both of you,” Krieger replied as he motioned to a man who was standing in a dark corner of the room.

  The man was about six feet tall with close-cut brown hair and blue eyes. He stepped over and slipped a fresh black plastic tie around Frank’s wrists and cinched it down extra tight. When he did so, Frank saw a swastika tattooed on the man’s forearm.

  “Krieger, no!” Mueller protested.

  “This is not your decision,” Krieger responded. “If he’s not going to cooperate, there’s no reason to keep him around. If he’d been captured when he deserted in 1944, he would have been shot, no questions asked. There’s no statute of limitations on treason.”

  Frank looked at Mueller, who was anxiously glancing back and forth between Krieger and the man who’d bound Frank.

  “Just do what he asks,” Mueller said.

  “If I cooperate, do you believe Herr Krieger is going to
let me go?” Frank asked. “Is he going to honor the worthless sheet of paper we signed? Is he going to risk me telling someone else where the treasure of Siena is located? What if I do and they solve the riddle of recovery before he can? How does he know I haven’t already made arrangements for the information to be released if something happens to me?”

  “I’ll accept that risk,” Krieger replied, staring coldly at Frank. “And do you think I would have gone into this without a backup plan?”

  Frank gave Krieger a puzzled look. Then, in an instant, Frank’s calm acceptance of his fate was blown into a million pieces.

  “No!” he cried out.

  “Where are we going?” Layla asked.

  “To Opa’s boat.”

  It was dark by the time they reached the sandy lot and parked the car. There was only a thin sliver of moon in the sky.

  “His car isn’t here,” Layla said. “He must have gone out with someone else.”

  Parker had a physical reaction to Layla’s words identical to the way he felt when Lenny had mentioned a bad memory.

  “No, there’s something else going on,” he replied. “We’re going out in the boat.”

  “Why? What are we looking for?”

  “I don’t know!” Parker banged his fist hard against the steering wheel. “But there’s no way I can leave!”

  “Okay, okay.”

  They got out of the car. Parker used the light on his cell phone to guide them along the dock to the boat. Once there, he flicked on the running lights and took a powerful flashlight from the console below the steering wheel. He turned on the flashlight and shined a long, straight beam across the rippling water of the river.

  “That’s a strong light,” Layla said.

  “It can be seen over a mile away.”

  Parker retrieved the spare key from its hiding place beneath one of the life jackets stored in a cabinet along the gunwale.

  “Can I ask where we’re going?” Layla asked in a timid voice.

  “Yeah, there’s a spot along a creek several miles downriver that I can’t get out of my mind. I want to check the river from here to there.”

  “Do you think that’s where your grandfather might be?”

  “I hope not, because there’s nothing at the creek except a private boat ramp and water. But maybe this is a way to get us out on the river in the direction we’re supposed to go.”