"I've got bad news."
We turned to look at him.
"Johnny didn't make it."
I inhaled sharply. "What happened?"
"Dr. Shay doesn't know. In fact, she's a little mystified by it." Baxter scowled. "Apparently, he was doing better before he died."
"Did you know him well?" I asked.
"Not really. But he was a decent guy."
"Any leads on what caused the explosion?"
"Johnny was our only witness to it." Baxter scowled again. "Without him, we'll probably never know the truth."
Chapter 18
I didn't want to wake Graham. He'd snuck off to our room while I'd questioned Baxter about Johnny Richards' death. So, I cracked the door and peeked into the interior. I saw his shadowy figure standing in one corner. He held a tiny flashlight in one hand and a map in the other one.
I flicked a switch, causing a single halogen light to fire up.
Graham glanced in my direction. "I don't think I mentioned this before, but you look like hell."
"Thanks." I dragged myself into the room. It was outfitted with a built-in bunk bed, two tall dressers, and a closet.
The one thing the room lacked was a window. It made sense, what with the unrelenting sunshine during the summer months. But I still wished we had one. There was something about a window that made a place feel homey. Without it, I might as well have been living in a basement.
"We need to talk."
"About what?"
"About Werwolfsschanze ."
I groaned. "Can't it wait?"
"What if Pat's right? What if there's no treasure here?"
"It's a little late to worry about that now," I replied.
"I explored large parts of this region in my youth. And I never found a single Nazi artifact."
"Yes, but—”
"I've also read plenty of books about Antarctica. So, I know all about the 1939 expedition. The Nazis came here in the MS Schwabenland to scout out locations for a whaling station. In those days, whale oil was a major ingredient in soap and margarine. But the MS Schwabenland was a small ship. It was far too small to carry building supplies. It only stayed here a couple of weeks and the crew spent very little time on the ice."
"True. But the Nazis planned other expeditions."
"And failed to launch a single one."
I fought to keep my temper in check. "Come on, Dutch. We've been over this a thousand times."
"Yeah, but I had an ulterior motive for coming here. I think it may have colored my good judgment." He paused to collect his thoughts. "Here's what bothers me. Historians have covered all aspects of the Nazi regime for decades. None of them have uncovered the slightest trace of Werwolfsschanze . Hell, none of them have even found evidence of a follow-up expedition to Antarctica."
That wasn't exactly true. We'd researched that same topic while still in New York. And we'd found numerous reports of a Nazi stronghold in Antarctica. Unfortunately, the claims were outlandish. They involved things like Aryan physics, Hollow Earth theories, UFOs, secret battles on the ice, and mind control. "Maybe not," I replied. "But no one knew about the New York treasure trove either."
" Werwolfsschanze isn't even a real word. It could mean anything."
I exhaled. "We covered this too. The first part translates to werewolf. The second part means entrenchment or better yet, lair. So, Werewolf's Lair."
"Maybe. Or maybe it was just some little piece of Werwolf ."
Werwolf was the code name for a mysterious Nazi operation launched in 1944. Its stated goal was to create a team of commandos who could operate behind enemy lines, wrecking havoc on the Allied forces. However, rumors had persisted for decades that Werwolf had another purpose—the recruitment and training of guerrilla fighters who could carry on the war after Nazi Germany's surrender.
"Let's get back to basics," I said. "The Nazis hid gold bars in New York shortly after the end of World War II. Beverly and I found those gold bars a few weeks ago."
The full story was a little longer than that. By the mid-1940s, Nazi leaders had realized defeat was inevitable.
We turned to look at him.
"Johnny didn't make it."
I inhaled sharply. "What happened?"
"Dr. Shay doesn't know. In fact, she's a little mystified by it." Baxter scowled. "Apparently, he was doing better before he died."
"Did you know him well?" I asked.
"Not really. But he was a decent guy."
"Any leads on what caused the explosion?"
"Johnny was our only witness to it." Baxter scowled again. "Without him, we'll probably never know the truth."
Chapter 18
I didn't want to wake Graham. He'd snuck off to our room while I'd questioned Baxter about Johnny Richards' death. So, I cracked the door and peeked into the interior. I saw his shadowy figure standing in one corner. He held a tiny flashlight in one hand and a map in the other one.
I flicked a switch, causing a single halogen light to fire up.
Graham glanced in my direction. "I don't think I mentioned this before, but you look like hell."
"Thanks." I dragged myself into the room. It was outfitted with a built-in bunk bed, two tall dressers, and a closet.
The one thing the room lacked was a window. It made sense, what with the unrelenting sunshine during the summer months. But I still wished we had one. There was something about a window that made a place feel homey. Without it, I might as well have been living in a basement.
"We need to talk."
"About what?"
"About Werwolfsschanze ."
I groaned. "Can't it wait?"
"What if Pat's right? What if there's no treasure here?"
"It's a little late to worry about that now," I replied.
"I explored large parts of this region in my youth. And I never found a single Nazi artifact."
"Yes, but—”
"I've also read plenty of books about Antarctica. So, I know all about the 1939 expedition. The Nazis came here in the MS Schwabenland to scout out locations for a whaling station. In those days, whale oil was a major ingredient in soap and margarine. But the MS Schwabenland was a small ship. It was far too small to carry building supplies. It only stayed here a couple of weeks and the crew spent very little time on the ice."
"True. But the Nazis planned other expeditions."
"And failed to launch a single one."
I fought to keep my temper in check. "Come on, Dutch. We've been over this a thousand times."
"Yeah, but I had an ulterior motive for coming here. I think it may have colored my good judgment." He paused to collect his thoughts. "Here's what bothers me. Historians have covered all aspects of the Nazi regime for decades. None of them have uncovered the slightest trace of Werwolfsschanze . Hell, none of them have even found evidence of a follow-up expedition to Antarctica."
That wasn't exactly true. We'd researched that same topic while still in New York. And we'd found numerous reports of a Nazi stronghold in Antarctica. Unfortunately, the claims were outlandish. They involved things like Aryan physics, Hollow Earth theories, UFOs, secret battles on the ice, and mind control. "Maybe not," I replied. "But no one knew about the New York treasure trove either."
" Werwolfsschanze isn't even a real word. It could mean anything."
I exhaled. "We covered this too. The first part translates to werewolf. The second part means entrenchment or better yet, lair. So, Werewolf's Lair."
"Maybe. Or maybe it was just some little piece of Werwolf ."
Werwolf was the code name for a mysterious Nazi operation launched in 1944. Its stated goal was to create a team of commandos who could operate behind enemy lines, wrecking havoc on the Allied forces. However, rumors had persisted for decades that Werwolf had another purpose—the recruitment and training of guerrilla fighters who could carry on the war after Nazi Germany's surrender.
"Let's get back to basics," I said. "The Nazis hid gold bars in New York shortly after the end of World War II. Beverly and I found those gold bars a few weeks ago."
The full story was a little longer than that. By the mid-1940s, Nazi leaders had realized defeat was inevitable.
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