Toronto, February 1990
BACK IN TORONTO , Karl had finally confessed to Phyllis that he had withdrawn money from the bank to pay Theo Král to retrieve the paintings. Upon hearing that he had put his faith and resources into the hands of this art smuggler, Phyllis had thrown her hands up into the air. “I knew you would do whatever you wanted,” she cried.
“Don’t be angry with me,” Karl replied, trying to placate his wife. “We can afford it.”
“Do you think I care about the money?” she said. “It’s not that.”
“Then what?” asked Karl.
Phyllis shook her head in frustration. “It’s this endless mission to get the paintings. You’re consumed by it. When will it stop? When will you realize that you’ve done all you can do, that maybe they are simply unattainable.”
Never! he thought, though he couldn’t say that to Phyllis. He couldn’t bear the notion – wouldn’t acknowledge the possibility – that he might never retrieve his family’s property. There was a long pause, and then Phyllis spoke, more gently this time.
“All of your determination,” she began. “You know I think it’s admirable. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if this plan doesn’t work.”
Of course he would be disappointed, devastated in fact. But again, this was a possibility that he simply could not entertain. It was his certainty about this journey that kept him energized. It was the hope. Take that away from him, and there was nothing. He could not stop believing that he would get the paintings back. Still, Karl needed his wife’s assurance and support – now more than ever.
“Please tell me you think it was the right decision to give Král our money,” begged Karl.
This time, Phyllis laughed out loud. “I’ve always said that if it had been up to me, you would have never made the trip to Prague in the first place, you would have never gone to meet with Richard VandenBosch, and you would have never arranged a meeting with Theofil Král. You have more guts than anyone I know. Was this the right thing to do? Time will tell.”
Explaining his decision to Hana and Paul was more difficult. Karl called his sister and arranged for her and her husband to come over. They gathered in the family room, where Karl once again confessed that he had paid Theo Král his advance asking price of three thousand, five hundred dollars.
Hana was astounded. “You actually paid him in cash?”
Karl nodded. “Král has gone. He says he will return on March twenty-first with the paintings. I’ll pay the balance when he comes back.”
“If he comes back!” interjected Paul.
“And if he brings the art,” continued Hana. “You realize of course that he could return to Toronto and simply lie about all of this. He could say that he tried and failed to get the paintings. And he would still have half the amount of money and we would still be without our property!”
This was certainly true, thought Karl. And yet, he still felt strongly that he had done the right thing by entrusting Theofil Král with this mission. Hana opened her mouth to speak again, but no words came out. She clamped her jaw shut, sucking back any further reproach and sat, silently shaking her head. Paul was equally stunned and quiet.
“Hana,” said Karl, moving closer to his sister, trying to articulate his thinking. “Please try to understand. I have a feeling. It’s hard to explain what it is. Something tells me – my gut or my instinct – that this man is the one to make this happen. I like him.” Hana looked away. “I know that seems ridiculous,” continued Karl, “because I don’t even know him. But it’s true. He is straightforward – honest, if you will. I appreciate that.”
“He’s a thief!” exclaimed Hana. “Probably a con artist as well. That wasn’t honesty, Karl. That was pulling the wool over our eyes. How could you be fooled by that?”
“I’m not asking you for any money, Hana,” Karl continued. “This was my decision, my risk.”
Hana was silent for another moment, and then she asked, “Did you at least get a receipt for the thirty-five hundred dollars?”
Karl paused and then burst into laughter. “Hana,” he finally said, when he could catch his breath, “the man’s a thief! You said it yourself. What good would a receipt do?”
The question hung in the air and then Hana started to chuckle. Paul joined in and then Phyllis, and soon the four of them were doubled over in laughter. The release felt good. It was something they all needed. In the end, Hana and Paul agreed to split the cost of the venture with Karl. “I may not agree with what you’ve done,” said Hana. “But you know I support you one hundred percent. This can’t be just your risk. It’s for our family – for Mother and Father as well. We’re in with you on this.”
Karl nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, grateful to have his sister as an ally, even though she did not agree with his tactics. That was a tribute to their devotion to one another. It also added to the burden of responsibility. And Karl felt that resting even more heavily on his shoulders. He had put the wheels in motion and now he had nothing to do but stand aside and wait for events to unfold. March 21 – that was the day that Theo had said he would return. It was not that far away, and yet it seemed out of reach, as distant as the paintings themselves.