she finally did speak, her voice was soft. “Am I allowed to ask why you’re really here? I overheard what you told Oskar. I’ve read about battles over the ownership of art and any number of other objects stolen during the war, but I’ve never heard of anyone offering to give something back without a challenge. Is that truly your purpose? If so, I would be honored to be part of that effort.”
First Chloe and now Ingrid. Both had assumed Kate’s purpose was legitimate. Kate smiled, to show her gratitude for Ingrid’s concern, but said nothing. Ingrid retreated inside.
Oskar emerged from the closed office before Kate could explain her purpose. “The office is closed until fourteen hundred. Please vacate the premises.” He left them standing outside the door. He turned the handle to be certain the door was locked from the hall and headed toward the stairs. The two women listened to the echo of his footsteps.
Kate remained seated, her coat draped over the side of the bench until Oskar’s footsteps on the stairs assured he was out of earshot. “What a bastard. It would have cost him nothing to have helped us. Nothing. Jesus, I would have paid him a bribe if he’d only asked for one.” Nina said nothing and Kate continued. “In fairy tales, the gatekeepers at least let you cross if you answer a riddle. Here, we had no chance to bargain.”
Kate fished the train schedule out of her purse. She preferred to head back to New York without spending a night in the room MK reserved. Nina began saying her goodbyes.
The door opened. It was Ingrid. She looked around to be certain no one was watching them. “I must apologize for Herr Warren. He feels he’s fallen down on the job if he actually helps anyone not from Linz.”
Kate was grateful, at least, for Ingrid’s acknowledgment of the futility of her effort.
“I wanted to check my records before speaking because the name Hirsch sounded familiar. I was able to verify that a little over a year ago another woman came asking about the same family. She was from Spain. She gave me her card. I’ve written her information down for you. Please don’t tell anyone where you received this information.” She handed Kate a piece of paper.
Ingrid talked quickly. She looked around, to be certain no one was watching their conversation. “I also told the young woman the family owned a textile plant on Rubenstrasse. I put the address on the note. I must go. I am sorry for my colleague. You say you have something that belongs to this family. In the name of God I hope you can return it. We owe them that much.”
Kate was unclear what to make of this information. It was so sudden, so unexpected, so rich with possibility. Her thanks were effusive.
Ingrid smiled. She turned away. “Really, I must go before my superior learns of this encounter.”
Kate looked at the note. The writing was small and precise. Marta Hirsch. Her address, her email, her telephone in Barcelona. Kate was tempted to take her BlackBerry out of her purse and send her an email. But what could she say? That she knew about a painting a man named Karl Hirsch bought years before, but that she had no power to return even if this Marta somehow were related to the man?
Nina pointed to the address Ingrid had written. “That’s in the same direction as the station. We can stop on the way if you like. I must admit, I’m a bit curious myself about what’s there.”
The building was in a light industrial area of small factories surrounded by modest, working class houses. It sat on a street where the first floors of the buildings housed a café with smoked-stained curtains, a butcher shop whose windows were littered with sausage and rabbits and geese hanging from white cords, two empty storefronts, and a dentist’s office marked by a large, freshly painted white tooth hanging from a wrought iron arm.
Nina parked in front of an old brick building running the length of an entire block. The brick had given in to the
First Chloe and now Ingrid. Both had assumed Kate’s purpose was legitimate. Kate smiled, to show her gratitude for Ingrid’s concern, but said nothing. Ingrid retreated inside.
Oskar emerged from the closed office before Kate could explain her purpose. “The office is closed until fourteen hundred. Please vacate the premises.” He left them standing outside the door. He turned the handle to be certain the door was locked from the hall and headed toward the stairs. The two women listened to the echo of his footsteps.
Kate remained seated, her coat draped over the side of the bench until Oskar’s footsteps on the stairs assured he was out of earshot. “What a bastard. It would have cost him nothing to have helped us. Nothing. Jesus, I would have paid him a bribe if he’d only asked for one.” Nina said nothing and Kate continued. “In fairy tales, the gatekeepers at least let you cross if you answer a riddle. Here, we had no chance to bargain.”
Kate fished the train schedule out of her purse. She preferred to head back to New York without spending a night in the room MK reserved. Nina began saying her goodbyes.
The door opened. It was Ingrid. She looked around to be certain no one was watching them. “I must apologize for Herr Warren. He feels he’s fallen down on the job if he actually helps anyone not from Linz.”
Kate was grateful, at least, for Ingrid’s acknowledgment of the futility of her effort.
“I wanted to check my records before speaking because the name Hirsch sounded familiar. I was able to verify that a little over a year ago another woman came asking about the same family. She was from Spain. She gave me her card. I’ve written her information down for you. Please don’t tell anyone where you received this information.” She handed Kate a piece of paper.
Ingrid talked quickly. She looked around, to be certain no one was watching their conversation. “I also told the young woman the family owned a textile plant on Rubenstrasse. I put the address on the note. I must go. I am sorry for my colleague. You say you have something that belongs to this family. In the name of God I hope you can return it. We owe them that much.”
Kate was unclear what to make of this information. It was so sudden, so unexpected, so rich with possibility. Her thanks were effusive.
Ingrid smiled. She turned away. “Really, I must go before my superior learns of this encounter.”
Kate looked at the note. The writing was small and precise. Marta Hirsch. Her address, her email, her telephone in Barcelona. Kate was tempted to take her BlackBerry out of her purse and send her an email. But what could she say? That she knew about a painting a man named Karl Hirsch bought years before, but that she had no power to return even if this Marta somehow were related to the man?
Nina pointed to the address Ingrid had written. “That’s in the same direction as the station. We can stop on the way if you like. I must admit, I’m a bit curious myself about what’s there.”
The building was in a light industrial area of small factories surrounded by modest, working class houses. It sat on a street where the first floors of the buildings housed a café with smoked-stained curtains, a butcher shop whose windows were littered with sausage and rabbits and geese hanging from white cords, two empty storefronts, and a dentist’s office marked by a large, freshly painted white tooth hanging from a wrought iron arm.
Nina parked in front of an old brick building running the length of an entire block. The brick had given in to the
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