The Heritage Paper

Chapter 21



Since Eddie and Zach couldn’t properly determine who the alpha male of the group was, they compromised, deciding to both accompany the children.

It left Veronica and Flavia together, with Youkelstein acting as the referee. Before the bout could begin, a friendly waitress took orders for appetizers. Youkelstein got the onion soup gratin, while Flavia ordered the prosciutto and melon with extra virgin olive oil. Flavia seemed to Veronica like one of those people who would breezily order for the group in a trendy Manhattan restaurant. Even when they lived in the city, the Petersons were always more of a pizza delivery family.

Flavia ordered a bottle of Pinot, and Veronica finally found something they had in common—they both needed a drink.

As their appetizers arrived, and more importantly, the wine, Flavia stared them down with a look of mistrust. But her skepticism might have been prudent. For all she knew, they could have been the ones who “murdered” Carsten and were trying to elicit information from her before delivering her the same fate.

As Youkelstein sipped his soup, he shared the details of what Ellen had said on the video during Maggie’s presentation. Hearing it out loud made Veronica choke on her crab cake, and she needed a gulp of wine to wash it down.

But Flavia didn’t seem a bit surprised. She turned to Youkelstein. “It makes me think of your book, Ben: Smoking the Doppelganger. A very catchy title, I might add—very sixties.”

Youkelstein proudly mentioned that the book was still a hit on Amazon, despite being published over forty years ago.

“So did you find it informative?” he asked, unsteadily raising a spoonful of soup to his mouth.

“I would have if you had remembered to finish it.”

“What do you mean?” he replied, a bruised ego showing through.

“I was impressed by the detailed forensic analysis. And I was very open to your theories, especially since I’d never thought of what happened to those dead Nazis. I went in with no preconceived notions—I didn’t even know who most of them were. And you made an overwhelming case based on evidence, which swayed me to your thinking.”

Youkelstein braced for the but. Authors never seemed to lose their insecurities.

“But you didn’t answer the question of why, or at least project a hypothetical of what you believe became of them. So you left me hanging. All of these men you mentioned, like Himmler and Hess, were the types who believe they were put on the planet to do grandiose things. If they escaped, as you made a strong case for, I find it hard to believe they spent the remainder of their lives selling insurance in Santa Fe. You didn’t complete the thought.”

Veronica was stuck on something she mentioned. “You said you never thought about dead Nazis before—what suddenly sparked your interest?”

“Let’s just say that the painting you brought me today wasn’t the first of its kind to come into my possession.”

Flavia turned back to Youkelstein. “So do you believe what you witnessed today represents the final Chapter of your book? Maybe that’s why you got the invite.”

“Perhaps.”

“Another issue I had was that the book didn’t cover the one missing Nazi I was most interested in—Heinrich Müller,” Flavia continued.

Veronica summoned the notes in her head from Nazi-101 class this morning. Müller was the Gestapo Chief.

Who had a child with Ellen!

The child who was the Chosen One.

The aliens are cleared for landing.

“Despite claims of my grandstanding, or those who say I’ve never met a conspiracy theory I didn’t believe, I have always based my findings on facts … which is why I didn’t satisfy your need for an ‘ending.’ I have never come across any evidence that Müller survived the war. He was last seen in Berlin on April 30, 1945 with his communications director, Christian Scholz. There have been rumors, such as the Russians had captured him and he worked for the KGB, and similar ones about the US and the CIA. But good money was always on Müller being killed in the Battle of Berlin.”

“What would you say if I told you I know for a fact that Müller survived the war?”

“After my experiences this morning, I wouldn’t doubt you for a moment.”

Flavia took another sip of wine. “What do you say we go pay him a visit?”