Rhineland Inheritance Read online

  Again the rictal smile. “Indeed there is.”

  “Where?”

  “Just over our heads. Some of it, anyway.”

  Jake resisted an urge to search the ceiling. “Why didn’t you just cut and run?”

  “Your patrols have become too thorough, Captain. My three best men are now sitting in various jails, charged with smuggling.”

  “They were caught on the way back in from dropping off their treasures in France,” Jake guessed, and pointed with his chin to the half-finished meal. “Probably carrying contraband to make your lives here easier.”

  “Thank heaven for such minor miracles, yes?” He walked toward the wall cabinet, his left foot scraping across the floor. “A glass of schnapps?”

  “I don’t think we’re going to be around long enough for that, thanks.” Jake inspected the man. “So you knew I was coming and didn’t run. You’ve got to admit, that sounds a little strange.”

  “Not if you knew what I know, Captain.”

  “Which is?”

  “I shall come to that in a moment.” He filled two glasses and handed one over. “Please.”

  Jake accepted the drink and set it down beside him. “Your moment’s up.”

  “The American way, straight to the point, yes?” The man stomped over and sat facing Jake. “Very well, Captain. What I have upstairs is only the tip of the iceberg.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Personal effects some of the officers were in too much of a hurry to take with them.” He gave another death’s-head grin. “Or maybe their destination did not permit it.”

  “So you searched through their things and rounded up this little trove?”

  “A few paintings which survived the bombardment, some decorative items they simply had to have on display, jewels intended for some fair neck or hand or ear.” The man leaned forward. “But there is yet another stash, Captain. One which I have been unable to tap. Their savings, so to speak. Not what found its way to the government’s own hoards. No. What I speak of are the precious items they chose to keep for themselves.”

  “And you know where all these things are buried.”

  “I do.”

  “And you want something in exchange.”

  “Naturally.”

  Jake thought it over. “What is your name?”

  “Konrad,” he replied, giving a small, seated bow. “Jurgen Konrad, at your service.”

  “So what’s the deal, Herr Konrad?”

  “There is so much treasure hidden away, Captain. So much you cannot even begin to imagine.”

  “So?”

  “I am tired of running, Captain,” Konrad replied. “I lost my youth in the war. I only want the conqueror’s permission to live in peace. To have papers. And enough money to enjoy this freedom. I will give you the hidden treasure, Captain, if you will allow me to keep the small trinkets I have upstairs for myself.”

  “Some loose change for your remaining years.”

  “Compared to what remains concealed,” Konrad replied, “these are mere trifles.”

  “You know I can’t agree to anything like that without authorization.”

  “Of course. You will naturally have to take me into custody until an agreement can be reached.”

  “And the treasure upstairs,” Jake added. “Do you really trust me that much?”

  “The entire town speaks of Captain Jake Burnes. I know you through what I have heard.”

  “You don’t know a thing about me,” Jake contradicted.

  “I know you are a man of honor,” Konrad replied. “Under the circumstances, it is all that matters.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jake called Pierre and Sally into Colonel Beecham’s office that evening. Sitting there surrounded by the colonel’s things gave them a reassuring sense of being under his direction. Since receiving the cable, they had heard nothing. Sally’s urgent entreaties over the telephone had yielded no response. Colonel Beecham was not available. Period.

  “At least our German’s safe,” Jake offered. They had stashed the man upstairs in one attic cubbyhole, the treasure in another. A pair of soldiers stood guard in the hall outside, another on the next floor’s landing, still more in pairs outside. “Never had so many soldiers volunteer for guard duty.”

  “Do you really think Connors and his men were that near to closing in?” Sally asked.

  Jake shrugged. “Herr Konrad thought so, and right now, that’s what matters.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want him to feel that we are honoring his trust in us,” Jake explained.

  “Honest Jake the treasure dealer. You take the cake, soldier.”

  “He’s put his life and fortune in our hands,” Jake protested. “We owe him that much.”

  “It was a good idea to post the lookout by his residence,” Servais told them. “We’ll know soon enough if Konrad had reason to fear the MPs.”

  “Make sure those boys are relieved every couple of hours,” Jake told him. “It’s too cold a night for them to stand still any longer than that.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Jake looked chagrined. “Did I sound too much like the colonel?”

  Pierre shrugged. “Somebody has to be in charge until Beecham returns. If that German soldier upstairs will trust you with his life, why shouldn’t I?”

  “Thanks, Pierre,” Jake said quietly.

  “I wonder how much that treasure upstairs is worth,” Sally mused.

  “Hard to say,” Pierre answered. “The war has depressed prices tremendously. But I would still say enough for a man to live a very long and comfortable life.”

  In the old man’s attic there had been six paintings, two of them fire-blackened but still recognizable as the work of masters. Three massive Persian silk carpets, far too bulky to smuggle out. A pair of silver and crystal candelabras. And four locker-size chests full to the brim with jewelry.

  “I thought Morrows was going to burst a gut when he pried off that first lid,” Jake recalled.

  “I didn’t know anybody’s eyes could get that big,” Sally agreed, rising to her feet with a yawn. “Well, I’m either going back to bed or sacking out on the floor right here.”

  “I’ll walk you back,” Jake offered, and when she did not object, followed her from the room.

  They walked the short distance in silence. At the doorway to her billet, she turned and offered a sleepy smile. “Why don’t you come up and see me sometime, soldier.”

  “I wish you meant that,” Jake replied in a subdued voice.

  The smile and the fatigue slipped away. “Give it time, Jake. Maybe it will happen.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know you do.” Softly now. “Dear Jake. Look at how tall you’ve grown.”

  “I’m the same height I always was.”

  “So tall,” she repeated. “You positively tower over the other men around here.”

  “And still I’m not good enough for you,” he said with a trace of bitterness.

  “Don’t say that,” she said, but without anger. “Don’t ever say that.”

  “I’ll never be able to fill a dead man’s shoes, will I?”

  “That’s not the point, Jake.” She gave him a wounded look. “Can you tell me why life has to be so hard?”

  “I wish I knew,” Jake said, aching for her. Despite the fear and pleading in her eyes, he started toward her. But he drew back when he heard the sound of running feet thundering down the back hallway of the HQ.

  Jake turned around. An instant later Pierre slammed back the door. “Red alert, Jake. Let’s move out!”

  * * *

  “They hit Konrad’s house about three quarters of an hour ago,” Pierre said, hustling Jake back into the colonel’s office. “When they found the place empty, they went totally berserk.”

  “Connors’ men?” Jake nodded to Morrows, who was standing back waiting anxiously in the outer office. “Come on in, Sergeant.”

  “Thank
you, sir.”

  “Who else?” Pierre motioned to the two men waiting inside. Both snapped to attention at Jake’s entry. “Simpkins and Vance, the soldiers on duty when it happened.”

  “At ease, men.” Reluctantly Jake moved behind the colonel’s desk and sat down, making room for the rest. “Colonel Beecham is in Frankfurt,” he explained. “He left me in charge during his absence.” To his surprise, no one batted an eye at the news.

  “Tell him,” Servais ordered.

  “Sir, we were heads down in the ditch like you ordered. All of a sudden these two trucks and maybe four jeeps—”

  “Just the ones we could see,” Vance interrupted. “But we could hear shouts and stuff from the road in back. Especially after.”

  “Right. So out they pile—”

  “All MPs?” Jake demanded.

  “Yessir. That is, all of them had on the white helmets and bands.”

  “Go on.”

  “So out they come on the bounce, like I said. And they hit the house six ways from Sunday, breaking down the door, shining lights everywhere, shattering windows, and poking their rifles in—”

  “Just like this gangster film I saw back in the States,” Vance offered.

  Simpkins turned his way. “Who’s telling this story, you or me?”

  “You’re doing fine, soldier,” Jake said. “Carry on.”

  “Right, sir. So then there’s this shout from inside, ‘He’s not here.’ And somebody from outside called back, ‘And the loot?’ And the guy inside shouted, ‘Gone!’ Then, sir, this guy outside, he just goes bananas. Stomping around, cursing, screaming to wake the dead—”

  “Woulda made a drill sergeant blush,” Vance added. “Mentioned your name a few times. I’d just as soon not tell you what he said.”

  “That’s all right, Simpkins,” Jake said mildly. “I can imagine.”

  “Yessir. So then he sends the ones who speak Kraut to question everybody in all the surrounding buildings, to see if maybe anybody saw anything. And the other guys started combing the area. We couldn’t get out any sooner, sir. They were all around us.”

  “We can thank our lucky stars there ain’t no streetlights, sir,” Vance agreed. “Two of them guys almost stepped on my toes, they was so close.”

  “Yeah, sir, we just hunkered down in the pit there and waited them out.”

  “And listened.”

  “Sir, you can’t imagine the noise. I mean, people wailing and moaning and carrying on up and down the street, all these MPs shouting and cursing. I doubt most of the Krauts had any idea what was going on.”

  “They didn’t have to,” Jake said grimly. “Being awakened in the middle of the night like that probably reminded them of their worst nightmare.”

  “Yessir, I guess so. Anyway, these guys stick around a while, then all start coming back to that one who’s still kicking up a storm around the jeep. We didn’t wait to see what happened next. Soon as they were back on the other side of the street, we hightailed it outta there.”

  “Good work, you two. Better get yourselves some shut-eye.”

  “Yessir. Thank you, sir.”

  “Morrows, think maybe you could get Cookie out of bed?”

  “No problem, sir.”

  “Ask him to make a couple of big pots of coffee, maybe some soup would be better, and a big box of sandwiches. Have your men take them over to the neighborhood the MPs just terrorized. Does anybody in your squad speak German?”

  “Don’t think so, sir.”

  Jake took out a piece of paper, scribbled furiously and handed it over. “Have them show this around the street. My guess is, half the neighborhood will still be up talking about it, now that the danger’s over. Tell them to show the paper to everybody. It basically just apologizes for the disturbance.”

  “A good idea, Jake,” Pierre murmured.

  “Yessir, sure is,” Morrows agreed, inspecting the paper. “A little PR at a time like this couldn’t hurt anybody.”

  “I just want them to understand that we are sorry the MPs got out of line.” Jake looked at Sally standing in the doorway. “Would you mind putting off your sleep for just a little while longer, and see if you can find Beecham for us?”

  She spun on her heel and was gone without a word.

  Jake looked at Pierre. “You’d better tell the guard detail to be on full alert.”

  Pierre was on his feet. “I’ll send another squad up to the base as well.”

  “Good thinking,” Jake agreed, and rose. “I guess it’s time I had a little talk with our friend upstairs.”

  * * *

  The German listened in watchful silence as Jake related the developments. “You see,” he rasped, when Jake was finished, “I was right after all.”

  “They won’t stop now,” Jake said.

  “You know my conditions,” the man replied in his throaty whisper. “The only reason I spoke to you at all was to obtain my request.”

  “How much have you already shipped across the border,” Jake demanded.

  The man hesitated, then replied, “About as much as what you have here. Perhaps a little more. But not much. And there were three other partners to take care of.”

  “This isn’t all the treasure you’ve collected, is it?”

  Konrad became very still, his eyes blank.

  “You didn’t collect everything in one place,” Jake persisted. “And I imagine there are several bombed-out mansions you haven’t gotten around to looting yet. You probably hit the ones that were the least damaged, with the largest caches of valuables and in the most accessible places. It must be hard-going, trying to sift through all that rubble in the dark. Especially now that all but one of your partners are sitting in a jail somewhere.”

  The man remained mute.

  “I thought so,” Jake said. “You’re trapped, aren’t you?”

  “Almost as trapped as you, Captain,” Jurgen Konrad replied.

  “I know where you could pick up some more partners fast,” Jake continued. “Partners who can run fast, dig for hours on end, even crawl in and out of upstairs windows without being caught.”

  The gaze flickered. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Partners you can trust,” Jake continued. “If they gave you their word, you could trust them with your very life. I would.”

  “Then you are a very simple man, Captain.”

  Jake shook his head. “I have worked with them. I have come to know them well.”

  “As well as any human being can know an animal.”

  “They are not animals,” Jake said sharply. “They are survivors. Their way of life has been shaped by events beyond their control. They have faced difficulties that should have killed them, and yet they survived.”

  The German searched Jake’s face and gave his head a slight shake. “This is so strange.”

  “What is?”

  “You really do care for these cellar children, don’t you, Captain?”

  “They are worthy of your trust. And they will help you.”

  “Very well, Captain,” came the rasped reply. “I will think over your words.”

  Jake nodded. “As to this other matter—”

  “It exists,” Konrad insisted. “The treasure is there.”

  “It’s unlikely to be there for long,” Jake pointed out.

  “I understand your concern,” Konrad replied. “But my demands must be met.”

  “Perhaps others know of this treasure,” Jake pressed.

  “Few ever knew of it,” Konrad whispered. “And even fewer still came through alive.”

  “If one did, there may be others,” Jake went on. “Any moment now, the MPs may stumble upon someone ready to tell the tale.”

  “Why are you speaking to me like this, Captain?” Konrad demanded. “You do not strike me as one who is greedy for treasure.”

  “I want nothing for myself,” Jake asserted.

  “Then why do you not simply agree to my demands and let us get on with it?”

>   “Because I do not have the authority,” Jake confessed. “And my superior officer is not here.”

  “Contact him, then.”

  “I have tried. I am trying. I cannot find him.”

  “And this concerns you.”

  “Very much,” Jake said grimly.

  “You think others may be responsible for his disappearance?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  Konrad sipped from his water jug, making loud swallowing sounds that were painful in Jake’s ears. He set down the jug and breathed heavily, as though the effort of drinking had exhausted him. Then he said, “What is it you want?”

  “I have promised to reward my young German helpers,” Jake said. “I need to take their payment from your hoard, to ensure that whatever happens they are properly compensated.”

  “A man of his word,” the German said. “I was right to trust you, Captain.”

  “The soldiers who are working on this project also have a right to expect something,” Jake continued.

  “How much do you want?”

  Jake thought it over and decided, “Everything we have taken from your attic and secured here.”

  “Impossible.”

  “You keep everything else.”

  “And if I am unable to travel to France to collect the proceeds from what has already been sold? Or retrieve anything more for myself here? You see the condition the war has left me in. I would be signing my own death warrant.” Konrad shook his head. “The carpets, perhaps.”

  “Not enough,” Jake replied. “A full chest. That is the least I need.”

  Konrad thought for a moment, then asked, “What about my papers?”

  Jake thought it over, and decided that if he was going out on a limb so far, he might as well start sawing away. “I will go down and have them issued immediately.”

  “Also,” Konrad went on, “you must have my partners released from your jails. Give me pen and paper so that I may write down their names.”

  “I can ask,” Jake replied, fishing in his shirt pocket. “And I will. But I cannot order it. The officer in charge may be willing to do it as a special favor. But I can’t promise anything.”

  Konrad considered this. “You will do this immediately?”