The Heritage Paper

Chapter 29



Veronica wandered toward the glow. It looked like a miniature version of pictures she had seen in her textbooks.

“The Amber Room,” she exclaimed with astonishment.

“I figured that an art history guru like yourself would know better if it’s the real deal,” Flavia answered. “I found the materials stored underground here in sealed crates. I didn’t know what it was at first, but when I figured it out, I tried to put it together just as it last looked in the photos.”

Jamie made a mad dash toward one of the chairs, but Veronica grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. You can dress them up, but you just can’t take them to a lost treasure once described as The Eighth Wonder of the World, she thought with a shake of her head.

“Be careful,” Flavia warned. “The amber is very brittle.”

“Just amazing,” Youkelstein chimed in. “Shortly after the German invasion of Russia, the Nazis gained control of the treasure. They maintained it at the castle of Königsberg, until January of 1945 when Hitler gave the order to move it. So the treasure was loaded into crates, which were last seen at a railway station in Königsberg. There were rumors it was put aboard the Wilhelm Gustoff, which was sunk by a Russian submarine. Some believe it never left Königsberg, which was destroyed by the Royal Air Force that April, while others believe it was burned by the Red Army.”

“Wow—raise your hand if you had Rhinebeck in your missing treasures pool,” Zach quipped.

Veronica lightly ran her hands over the porcelain fixtures. “I mean, it could be the real deal, but I’m a student, not an expert.”

“Well, consider this to be your final exam,” Flavia said. “These caves are filled with paintings and other works of art that were stolen by the Nazis during the war. But for obvious reasons, I’ve never had the opportunity to authenticate them.”

“What was your reaction to finding this cave, and all it entailed?” Zach asked like a reporter.

“Like I said, I wasn’t a Nazi expert when I moved here. And while I have a good eye for art, I am no historian. I thought they must be Gus’ secret art collection—he’d given many paintings to St. Marks, so I knew he’d been a collector. I thought it would be a nice tribute to him to hang them in my gallery.”

Youkelstein looked shocked. “You hung priceless stolen paintings in your art gallery!?”

“Obviously I didn’t know they were stolen. At least until a customer complimented me on my exhibit to honor paintings stolen by the Nazis. She was also impressed with how exact my replicas looked.”

“So let me get this straight,” Zach interrupted. “You claim to have stumbled upon this cave after moving here full-time, but you had owned this place for over twenty years. So how did these artifacts remain in such pristine condition?”

“I’m sure the subterranean conditions down here helped, along with the lack of light. And I certainly wasn’t the one who constructed these airtight rooms. I believe someone was taking care of the art for all those years after Gus’ death. The cave had a curator.”

“Any idea who that would be?” Zach asked.

“Yes, I think it was Ellen.”

“What makes you think that?”

Flavia began walking away. “You need to follow me.”