At a Swedish trading company near the docks, Karl-Heinz led the way through the stockroom, followed by Herr Golcher. They headed towards a wizened old man with a white beard, Herr Akerson, who was packing a new radio in brown paper for shipping. Around them were stacks of oriental rugs and radios.
“Dr Kramer. How are you?” Akerson asked.
“I’m fine. How is business, Herr Akerson?”
“Business is good for radios and carpets, but very slow for art, Herr Kramer,” Akerson said. “Sweden is a small country and with the war, we have become even smaller.”
“Well, I hope we can help you with some new business. Two packages have arrived, a Matisse and a Chagall. Herr Golcher here will handle the viewing.”
Karl-Heinz handed Akerson the bill of lading with a description of the artworks. Akerson looked at the pedigree of the Matisse and laughed out loud.
“The ‘Seated Woman’? You must be joking, Dr Kramer. That’s not possible.”
“Herr Akerson, the information comes to me from Berlin,” Karl-Heinz said. “I have not seen the package. Please feel free to examine the work.”
“I would love to see it. If it is really the ‘Seated Woman’, I will have a buyer for you by the end of the week.”
Karl-Heinz nodded.
“Golcher here will look after you, Herr Akerson. He will organize the viewing. All you need to do is to ring him up and fix an appointment.”
“Very good, Dr Kramer," said Akerson, smiling. "I look forward to seeing your ‘Seated Woman’.”
Golcher put a business card on the table, and the two Germans took their leave. Akerson picked up the card and looked at the address of the German Press Office.
No, thought Akerson, it was not possible. He knew all about the ‘Seated Woman’ which he had seen hanging in Paul Rosenberg’s art gallery in Paris in 1939. It had been painted by Henri Matisse in 1921 and until 1940 had belonged to Rosenberg. Later, it was looted by the Nazis as Rosenberg fled France to Portugal on his way to New York City.
Hanne entered the Kramer house through the back door. She took off her winter coat and hat, and then changed her shoes before entering the kitchen.
“Guten Morgen, Wilhelma, Heidi.”
In the kitchen, Wilhelma and the child watched her silently as Eva stormed in from the living room, looking frantic.
“Hanne, have you seen Heidi’s toy house, the one with the green shutters?” Eva asked.
“No, Frau Kramer.”
“Wilhelma says she saw you with it.”
“No, that’s not possible,” Hanne said. “I almost never go into Heidi’s room.”
“Are you telling me that Wilhelma is lying?” Eva asked with a hint of menace in her voice.
“I don’t even remember seeing the toy, Frau Kramer.”
“That little house was bought in Berlin by my husband at the Kaufhaus des Westens. It was a very special gift for my daughter and quite expensive,” Eva said with undisguised pride.
“Have you looked under Heidi’s bed?” Hanne asked, “or maybe in the closet?”
“Of course, we have, Hanne,” Eva said. “This is quite serious. Did you borrow it?”
“I don’t have any children, Frau Kramer. I have no need for a child’s toy.”
Hanne started to collect the plates on the kitchen table and to carry them to the sink.
“Wilhelma thinks you stole it,” Eva let slip.
Hanne looked at Frau Kramer in shock and then glared at Wilhelma.
“That’s crazy, Frau Kramer.”
“Sie schmutzige Jude,” Wilhelma snapped, calling Hanne a dirty Jew.
“Verrücktes Weib,” Hanne screamed at the insult. Wilhelma was a crazy woman.
Frau Kramer grabbed Hanne’s wrist, and she lost her grip on the plates, which crashed to the floor.
“Lass mich allein,” Hanne said, demanding to be left alone.
Upstairs in his study, Karl-Heinz heard the shrieks from the kitchen. He snatched up his briefcase and hurried downstairs to see what the commotion was about. He stepped into the kitchen to see Eva struggling for a knife that Hanne had picked up off the floor with the plates. Eva slammed Hanne’s wrist down on the sideboard. Heidi was crying, while Wilhelma looked on with satisfaction.
“Nazi Hündin, get your hands off me,” Hanne yelled as she dropped the knife on the floor.
“Karl-Heinz, this woman stole a toy from Heidi and won’t give it back.”
“Dr Kramer, your crazy Jew wife is blaming me for a lost toy," said Hanne. "It is unbelievable.”
“I am not Jewish, Hanne,” Eva protested.
“Yes, you are,” Hanne yelled. “You are a Jew just like me, but you won’t admit it.”
Wilhelma looked at Eva with real concern, sensitive to racial issues. Eva stood back in silence.
“Ladies!” Karl-Heinz bellowed. “Let’s calm down, please.”
“I won’t calm down with this woman in our house,” Eva said. “I told you we couldn’t trust a Jew, and you hired her anyway.”
Karl-Heinz ignored her complaints and turned to Hanne.
“I think you better go home, Hanne. I will drop you off.”
Furious, Hanne headed to the door to put on her coat and boots.
“Die schmutzige Jude, I saw her steal it,” Wilhelma said.
“Wilhelma, that’s enough,” Karl-Heinz said. “Eva, I will be at the office.”
Karl-Heinz and Hanne left the house and walked down to the waiting German Legation car. The driver held the door as Karl-Heinz and Hanne got in the back. Eva stood in the window and watched them drive away.
Karl-Heinz glanced at Hanne as she took a handkerchief from her bag and blew her nose.
“You are from Vienna, aren’t you, Hanne?”
“Yes, Dr Kramer.”
“Why do you think Wilhelma called you a thief?”
“I have no idea. I have no interest in Heidi’s toys,” Hanne said. “That bitch called me ‘eine schmutzige Jude’, that’s the word Germans use to call out a Jew on the street. It’s so easy.”
“My wife says I should not have hired you, but I think you are from a well-to-do family in Vienna. You know things, you have a good deal of culture. That is my impression.”
“My family was chased out of Vienna in 1938, Dr Kramer,” Hanne said. “We had a large house in Hietzing. We went to concerts at the Vienna Philharmonic. We went to the Café Dommayer, and I was to go to the Medizinische Universität but I was kicked out. We lost everything.”
“I’m sorry, Hanne,” Kramer said with genuine concern.
“My family has lived in Vienna forever. I’m Austrian and proud of it.”
Karl-Heinz watched as Hanne dabbed delicately at her nose. He thought she had a very unusual background for a cleaning lady. They drove on in silence until the car pulled up in front of the German Legation at number 2, Hovslagargatan.
“Come in with me for a moment, Hanne,” Karl-Heinz said. “I have to drop something off, and then we will be on the way to your flat.”
Hanne acquiesced and followed Karl-Heinz into the building.