Shark and Octopus Page 18

  “Hans told me the trains he was on had nothing to do with the fighting. And thank God they had nothing to do with the camps. The Nazis were hoarding musical instruments looted from music schools and orchestras. Some were stolen from Jews sent to the camps. That’s why Hans had to take an oath of loyalty to the Nazis. They needed his silence. For decades they got it.

  “Hans was with the Sonderstabe of violinists, Mr. Gilmore. Their job was to evaluate and catalog and transport the violins the Nazis had stolen. That’s where Hans first learned his carpentry skills. Carefully building crates to transport the violins.

  “Before shipping, the Sonderstabe of violinists had to determine which violins were worth shipping immediately. They had to separate the gold from the trayf. And there was plenty of gold. Several violins by Stradivarius. One more valuable even than any Stradivarius. Hans made a box solely for this one violin, it was so remarkable. He never did that for any of the other violins, which were packed into larger crates.

  “When the planes first struck that morning, he ran into the train car for this violin. That was the violin Hans was carrying when he was wounded. Parts of his left hand were blown off. You see, Mr. Gilmore, Hans was part of the Special Task Force For Music. Hitler himself ordered it. Hans felt terrible about being part of stealing musical instruments. Absolutely ashamed. I don’t know that he ever forgave himself for his part in the thefts.

  “Hans had a classmate at the Dresden conservatory where he studied violin before the war. The classmate was a French Jew who had to leave the school. He lived in Paris, had a music shop there. Hans would help the classmate deal with the Nazis when he could. Hans did feel good about that.

  “It was Hans’ old violin teacher at the conservatory who made him part of the Special Task Force. Otherwise, he would have been sent to the front as a soldier. He would not have lasted a month there. Later his teacher sponsored Hans coming to this country. He helped Hans settle in Baltimore. The teacher was here because he was a violin instructor at the Peabody Institute downtown.”

  “Miriam?” Griffin said. “You told us the raid where Hans was wounded took place in the morning.”

  “It did.”

  “But you also told us the Special Task Force trains always traveled at night. To avoid the Allied planes.”

  “They did. I asked Hans about that. He said a train of wounded soldiers needed to get through on the Ulm railroad line. So many of the other rail lines had been destroyed in the bombing.

  “The Special Task Force train was sitting outside Ulm for hours, waiting on a railroad siding for the long train of wounded soldiers to pass. Hans said he’d never forget how beautiful and blue the sky was that day. Not a cloud to be seen. The American planes came out of that blue and hit them while they were waiting.”

  “The American planes were after the rail line,” Griffin told Miriam, remembering his phone conversation with Billy Williams. “They did not even know the Special Task Force train would be there. The train cars loaded with stolen instruments were an unexpected target of opportunity for the bombers. Hans and the Special Task Force were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Millions of us alive then could say the same, Mr. Gilmore.”

  “I’m sure, Miriam,” Griffin said quietly.

  “It’s gone, all of it, gone. Both sides of my family burned in the ovens of Auschwitz. The city of Dresden incinerated by Allied bombers. The cherry tree I climbed, the men who informed on my father, all gone. Everything turned to ashes. Most days, I’m grateful I’m blind. Some days I play this music and pretend the war never happened. I pretend Hans is sitting here with me. Sometimes I’ll hear myself call his name. Hans.”

  The longing in her voice was so overwhelming Griffin grabbed Annie’s hand to keep her from crying.

  Miriam addressed him directly. “Mr. Gilmore, don’t think I believed for one moment your claim that you are just checking on the estate of Hans Baeder. There was no estate. Don’t ever try to make a living where you are required to lie. Your heart isn’t in it. I have no idea why you wanted to see me. I don’t much care. You’re here because I wanted to talk about Hans. Let yourselves out.

  “Ms. Knaack, on your way could you bring me the picture you see on the bookcase in the foyer? The one by the clock that’s stopped working.”

  She did as asked. She showed the picture to Griffin on her way back to the porch.

  The picture was of a couple in their sixties sitting on a bench in the Inner Harbor. Miriam looks much as she did on her porch, wearing a similar grey pants suit. Next to her with his arm looped around Miriam’s shoulder is Hans Baeder. He is pitifully thin. His blond hair is brushed straight back in the old style. He wears a tired-looking suit coat and tie. Neither Hans nor Miriam is smiling broadly, but it is clear they are comfortable with each other.

  “Miriam,” Griffin said. “I’m not lying when I tell you this. You need to leave this apartment. You said you have a cousin in Philadelphia?”

  “Yes. I have an open invitation to visit as often as I want and for as long as I want.”

  “I suggest you take your cousin up on the offer as soon as possible. You may not be safe here. It’s my belief events are about to start moving quickly and not always exactly as we’d like. And Miriam? We’ll do right by Hans.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  June 20

  5:07 pm

  “You feel like driving around?” Griffin asked Annie, unlocking the car door on her side. He glanced back at Miriam Frietag’s apartment and shivered slightly. “After that conversation I could use some aimless cruising.”

  They drove in silence for a while. The houses were getting noticeably poorer, many of them with shingles fallen off like scales from dead fish.

  “That was so depressing,” Griffin blurted out finally. “That entire conversation with Miriam. And I know I could have done a better job of restraining myself. I should have dialed back. And, you know, this neighborhood does not help me feel more cheerful at all.”

  Griffin was turning onto Paton Avenue when he made the admission. Paton was a single curving block. Griffin counted six boarded up houses with “No Trespassing Private Property” stenciled in big black letters on plywood filling the holes where windows and doors used to be.

  As he looked out at the passing bleakness, Griffin said, “Annie, you have convinced me of one thing. You and Miriam.”

  Annie asked what that was.

  “The room at the back of the Arazzo Castle dungeon? No way was it ever filled with loot from the Special Task Force. As you explained before, how would the man in white move all that out of the castle without the surveillance cameras catching every move?”

  “Miriam said Hans was especially concerned with one violin.”

  “So concerned,” Griffin agreed, “that rather than run for cover when the American planes attacked at Ulm, Hans ran back into the train car for this violin.”

  “Hans risked his life for this one violin.”

  “He did, Annie. Miriam also told us said it was this violin he was carrying when he was wounded. This was the only violin he built a separate crate for.”

  “Which violin was it, do you think?”

  Griffin had to wait before answering. They were stopped at a light on Reisterstown Road. The radio of the car next to them was so loud Griffin could feel the rap as well as hear it. He let the car pull ahead. In the blissful silence he told Annie, “I wish I could say which violin Hans had. There is one thing we learned today. More accurately, something was confirmed.”

  “Arazzo Castle.”

  “Yes, the Special Task Force For Music stayed in Arazzo Castle. That’s why the man in white went there. That’s why he took the key from me.” Griffin nodded as he worked out his reasoning. “It was logical for him to conclude the instrument – whatever it is – was in the room at the back of the Arazzo Castle dungeon. It’s the most secure part of the castle. Grace talked about that. The Ferlinghetti family used it to shelter in the dungeon during Worl
d War Two air raids. The dungeon walls are three feet thick and the walls around that room thicker still. If you’re Hans Baeder and you have in your possession a violin so precious you risked your life to protect it – What safer place is there than the room in the dungeon at Arazzo Castle?”

  “How long has the man in white thought the violin might be in that room?” Annie wondered.

  “With online research we found out the Special Task Force was in Italy. He may have found that out as well. Maybe he learned that just months ago. Maybe it was years ago. Whenever it was, there wasn’t anything he could do without the key. Once he got the key—from me at the museum – two days later he tried to obtain the violin by himself. When that didn’t work, first thing he did was call Future-Ride. We watched him do that on the surveillance tape Grace sent.”

  Annie said, “I understand why Hans Baeder would risk his life for one remarkable violin. He was devoted to violins. But why would he leave the violin in the castle? Why leave it anywhere?” she asked. “Why not just take it back to the Music Office in Berlin, with the rest on the Special Task Force’s loot?”

  Griffin felt a smile grab his face and not let go.

  “Hans wanted to keep it away from the Nazis.”

  That pleased Annie as well, who said soon after, “It’s a love story, isn’t it.”

  For a few streets Griffin could not think of a response to that. Eventually he managed, “How’s that?”

  “At the heart of all this is a love story,” Annie insisted

  “Hans and Miriam.”

  “Miriam and Hans,” she agreed.

  They drove a few miles in a silence broken by Annie asking, with clear reluctance: “Griffin? Back there with Miriam? You meant it when you said things were about to heat up, didn’t you? This might get dangerous?”

  Griffin saw the worry on Annie’s face.

  “I’m afraid that’s true.”

  “Miriam could be in danger? That’s why you suggested she should leave town?”

  “If someone connected her to Hans Baeder, she could be in danger, yes.”

  “What about the Duke?”

  “What about him, Annie?”

  “Isn’t he in danger too? The man in white knows about him. Shouldn’t he be warned also?”

  Griffin smirked. “Aw, Annie, do I have to?”

  “Griffin?” she warned.

  “Okay. I’ll suggest this would be a good time to take his blondes and clear out of Dodge. Revisit the ancestral estates in Italy. I’ll contact Mel Morton as well. His son is obnoxious, but I assume he’d keep an eye out for his father. Billy Williams, Miss Paulette, and Professor Silverman have no connection to Hans Baeder. They’re completely safe.”

  “So everyone’s taken care of.”

  “Except us.”

  *

  Saif arrived at Annie and Griffin’s house just after ten Monday morning. As he stepped inside he apologized, “Sorry I can’t stay for the brunch.” From the dining room Annie waved with a pitcher of apple juice. Kit and Bobby were in the dining room, brunching away. “I’m teaching a class in ninety minutes. Then I have to get back to prepping for my doctoral defense.”

  “This shouldn’t take too long,” Griffin replied. They started toward the dining room. “Last night I spent some time on the computer. I reviewed the surveillance film Grace sent us a couple times. I came up with a theory I want to run past everybody. Saif, I’m hoping you can help me with something. Two somethings.”

  “If I can, sure thing. Things.”

  “Saif,” Griffin began, “here’s the first something.

  “While you were on your way here this morning, I emailed you the surveillance film Grace sent. You remember the film?”

  Saif, studying the tray of pastries Kit was holding, said, sure, I remember the tape.

  “You brought your laptop with you?”

  Saif did; he apparently did not leave home without it. Saif placed his laptop on the dining room table. He selected a strawberry pastry from the tray. This was done only with some deliberation. Saif Venkatesan did not make even minor decisions casually.

  “That day when Grace sent the film, Saif, you saved it to my hard drive. You thought we might need to look at the tape again. Turns out, we do.”

  As Griffin was speaking Saif was booting up, which he did with remarkable speed and while holding the strawberry pastry between two slender fingers.

  “Have you accessed the film yet?” Griffin asked and Saif said he had. “Can you go to the eleven minute, twenty three second mark on the film?”

  In a few keystrokes Saif was there.

  “As we can all see,” Griffin explained, “by this point in the Arazzo castle tour, our man in white, name still unknown, has entered the gallery. In this gallery are floor to ceiling paintings, two harpsichords and three musicians preparing to play a private party. The party starts once the castle closes to the public in a few minutes.

  “Here’s why I think this part of the film is vital.

  “Everyone remember that room in the back of the dungeon?” Nods all around. “The room for which the man in white needed the key – the key we all worked so hard for me to steal. That room? I used to think that room was filled with loot stolen by the Special Task Force For Music.

  “Annie and Miriam Frietag have convinced me that’s wrong. How would the man in white have gotten out of the castle with all that loot? The logistics of moving all that stuff out of there into vans or whatnot are insurmountable. Security cameras, guards – we saw them on the film – around at all times. How would he get away with it? He couldn’t.”

  “So you believe he’s after just one musical instrument?” Bobby asked. “One violin?”

  “Got to be.”

  “But, Griffin? Doesn’t that present the same problem?” Kit objected. “The security guards, the cameras. If he’s spotted,” Kit pushed on, “wouldn’t walking around the castle holding one musical instrument – a violin, we’re all assuming – wouldn’t that attract attention he doesn’t want? And it’s not like he can just pop the violin into a backpack.” Kit pointed at the screen. “He’s not wearing a backpack.”

  Griffin said, “Kit and everybody, here’s what I think the man in white had planned.”

  Griffin turned to Saif. “Can you remove the greenish tint from the film? Kind of leach it out?”

  “It can be done, Griffin. At about the eighty percent level. It won’t quite be like we’re there in the room with him, but the film clarity should improve noticeably.”

  In a few more keystrokes the gallery, the paintings, the musicians all suddenly acquired a clarity and sharpness previously missing. It was as though a green fog had lifted.

  “His suit,” Kit noticed immediately. “His suit isn’t quite right. You couldn’t tell before.”

  “That’s because I don’t think it’s a suit. Saif, here’s the tricky part. Can you show us what the man in white would look like without that tailor made Italian suitcoat he’s wearing?”

  “Sure,” Saif replied. “The app for that sort of thing is not unlike Photoshop.”

  Saif placed the pastry on the back of his left hand as he typed. The pastry wobbled but stayed in place. The man in white’s suitcoat disappeared.

  “This is virtual reality, you understand,” Saif cautioned. “It’s the computer’s projection of what the film would show with the suitcoat removed. It’s accurate at perhaps the level of-”

  “It’s accurate enough,” Griffin announced. “Look at the three musicians.” Everyone did. “Now look at the man in white.”

  *

  Bobby reacted first.

  “They’re all wearing the same shirt and slacks. The musicians and the man in white.”

  Griffin agreed.“They are. And that, of course, is not coincidental.”

  Griffin extended his arms, palms up, in a Where’s My Applause? gesture.

  “Getting rid of the suit coat? You’re saying it’s just a kind of wardrobe change, Griffin? That’s wha
t you’re saying?” Bobby was unconvinced. “That’s why our guy here is wearing the same slacks and shirt as the musicians? It couldn’t be just coincidence? Or just some European clothing style?”

  Griffin explained: “Here’s what I think was his plan, Bobby. Or at least the man in white’s hope.

  “He goes into the Arazzo dungeon and then to the room at the back of the dungeon. He unlocks the door with the key he got from me. There’s a violin in there. Just one violin. At least he thought there would be a violin there. Remember how disappointed he was when he came back up the steps.”

  “Okay. What if he’s got the violin, as he hoped? What then, Griffin?” Bobby remained unpersuaded. “How does he explain to a security guard why he’s carrying this violin? And he’s got to be carrying it. As Kit says, he can’t just pop it into a backpack he doesn’t have.

  “We’re looking at virtual reality, remember,” Bobby persisted. He had the unpleased facial expression of someone being urged to finish his vegetables. “In real reality he’s wearing his suit coat.”

  “Saif,” Griffin said, “if you would. Fast forward to the 18 minute, 16 second mark of the tape.” Saif did. “Everyone, see the man in white pulling on that handle sticking out of the hallway wall?” Griffin pointed to the screen. “We – me at least – thought pulling the handle was just a nervous gesture on his part. I should have known better. The man in white is not one to get nervous. That handle is for a chute which goes to the incinerator in the basement. Grace told us about the incinerator chute. He was double checking to make sure the chute was open for him.”

  “He was going to drop the suit coat in the chute, wasn’t he?” Bobby said, understanding Griffin now. “Then he looks just like the musicians. But he didn’t toss the suit coat in the chute-”

  “Because he never got a violin from the room in the dungeon,” Annie finished for him.