report. “What happened to Jean Louis? He’s out like a light,” I said to Bess while studying Jean Louis snoring on one of the couches.
Bess gave me a wily grin. “I put two Benadryls in his coffee. Works every time.”
“At least he’ll wake up rested.”
“And it won’t be for a while.”
Suddenly I got a crazy idea. “Bess, I’m going upstairs to get an aspirin. I’ve got a hell of a headache.”
“Sorry that we don’t have some down here. Take this flashlight just in case the lights go out again. There is a bottle of aspirin in the servants’ bathroom by the kitchen. Now make sure you come right back. I don’t want to be worrying about you.”
“I’ll be fine.” I took the flashlight and headed upstairs. But I had no intention of coming right back.
15
I t has always been my theory that when opportunity knocks, open the door, which is what I did. I opened the back door and stepped out into the storm.
The rain had stopped but the wind whistled through the trees. All lights were out except for the solar barn lights and those in the Big House.
I knew if I were going to do this, I would have to hurry. Not because Bess might come looking for me but that another tornado might bounce onto the farm any moment.
Stepping up my pace, I skirted the pool near the guest bungalow. The door was locked. Using the flashlight, I broke the glass in the door. No one would be suspicious, as they would think the storm caused the damage.
I unlocked the door and let myself in. Looking at my watch, I was going to give myself ten minutes before I went back.
First thing I did was go through Jean Louis’ closet, searching his luggage and the pockets of his clothes. Nothing. Next, I went through his drawers. Nothing again. Surely there had to be something.
Then I saw it in the corner. His portfolio. Grabbing it, I laid it open on a table and took out all the drawings. I had learned a thing or two from Asa about how to search for contraband. Feeling around the edges of the portfolio I discovered a slight bump in the lining.
Worrying with it, I discovered that part of the lining was affixed to the frame of the portfolio with velcro. I pulled the velcro apart and felt inside. My fingers made contact with slick paper. Gingerly I pulled it through the opening.
It was an old black and white photograph of a bride and her groom standing before an altar. The forties-era bride was beaming at her new husband, who was wearing a German Schutzstaffel uniform.
The dreaded German SS!
So much for Jean Louis’ parents fighting in the French Resistance.
Of course they were his parents. He and the man in the picture shared the same beady eyes.
I flipped the picture over. Scribbled in German on the back was 22. Juni, 1941. (June 22, 1941.) Behind the beaming couple were hundreds of paintings stacked against the walls of the altar.
Carefully I reinserted the photograph and closed the velcro. After placing Jean Louis’ sketches in the order that I had found them, I put the portfolio back.
I realized now that I had a piece of the puzzle. And the photograph had made it possible.
I think the couple was showing off the soldier’s work, which were the stacked paintings. My educated guess was that this SS soldier was a member of the Kunstschutz.
And what is the purpose of the Kunstschutz? It was to confiscate art throughout Europe. In other words . . . steal it by hook or by crook.
How do I know this? I was an art history professor – remember?
16
O scar Wilde once said, “Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.” Since Oscar Wilde was both a saint and sinner, I guess he should know.
Myself – I am a great believer in sin and redemption. I think it is a Southern thing. I am not above tweaking the rules here and there because I know though my sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow, Isaiah 1:18.
Every woman knows that if she played by the rules all the time, she’d never get anywhere, so I was ready
Bess gave me a wily grin. “I put two Benadryls in his coffee. Works every time.”
“At least he’ll wake up rested.”
“And it won’t be for a while.”
Suddenly I got a crazy idea. “Bess, I’m going upstairs to get an aspirin. I’ve got a hell of a headache.”
“Sorry that we don’t have some down here. Take this flashlight just in case the lights go out again. There is a bottle of aspirin in the servants’ bathroom by the kitchen. Now make sure you come right back. I don’t want to be worrying about you.”
“I’ll be fine.” I took the flashlight and headed upstairs. But I had no intention of coming right back.
15
I t has always been my theory that when opportunity knocks, open the door, which is what I did. I opened the back door and stepped out into the storm.
The rain had stopped but the wind whistled through the trees. All lights were out except for the solar barn lights and those in the Big House.
I knew if I were going to do this, I would have to hurry. Not because Bess might come looking for me but that another tornado might bounce onto the farm any moment.
Stepping up my pace, I skirted the pool near the guest bungalow. The door was locked. Using the flashlight, I broke the glass in the door. No one would be suspicious, as they would think the storm caused the damage.
I unlocked the door and let myself in. Looking at my watch, I was going to give myself ten minutes before I went back.
First thing I did was go through Jean Louis’ closet, searching his luggage and the pockets of his clothes. Nothing. Next, I went through his drawers. Nothing again. Surely there had to be something.
Then I saw it in the corner. His portfolio. Grabbing it, I laid it open on a table and took out all the drawings. I had learned a thing or two from Asa about how to search for contraband. Feeling around the edges of the portfolio I discovered a slight bump in the lining.
Worrying with it, I discovered that part of the lining was affixed to the frame of the portfolio with velcro. I pulled the velcro apart and felt inside. My fingers made contact with slick paper. Gingerly I pulled it through the opening.
It was an old black and white photograph of a bride and her groom standing before an altar. The forties-era bride was beaming at her new husband, who was wearing a German Schutzstaffel uniform.
The dreaded German SS!
So much for Jean Louis’ parents fighting in the French Resistance.
Of course they were his parents. He and the man in the picture shared the same beady eyes.
I flipped the picture over. Scribbled in German on the back was 22. Juni, 1941. (June 22, 1941.) Behind the beaming couple were hundreds of paintings stacked against the walls of the altar.
Carefully I reinserted the photograph and closed the velcro. After placing Jean Louis’ sketches in the order that I had found them, I put the portfolio back.
I realized now that I had a piece of the puzzle. And the photograph had made it possible.
I think the couple was showing off the soldier’s work, which were the stacked paintings. My educated guess was that this SS soldier was a member of the Kunstschutz.
And what is the purpose of the Kunstschutz? It was to confiscate art throughout Europe. In other words . . . steal it by hook or by crook.
How do I know this? I was an art history professor – remember?
16
O scar Wilde once said, “Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.” Since Oscar Wilde was both a saint and sinner, I guess he should know.
Myself – I am a great believer in sin and redemption. I think it is a Southern thing. I am not above tweaking the rules here and there because I know though my sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow, Isaiah 1:18.
Every woman knows that if she played by the rules all the time, she’d never get anywhere, so I was ready
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