Konrad Heider dropped to his knees before the small metal door, tears glistening on his cheeks. “I have dreamed about this moment for so many years. Oswald always knew I would find our family’s treasures. It was indeed my destiny,” he said, his voice a whisper, his eyes fixated on the entrance to the root cellar.
The lawyer seemed to have forgotten all about her. Was this her chance to make a break for it? Very slowly, she shuffled her left foot a few inches towards the shed’s door, following it with her right a few seconds later. She’d just repeated the move when Heider snarled, “Against the wall.” His weapon was once again aimed at her torso.
Zelda stepped back as ordered, trying not to snivel. If Arjan van Heemsvliet’s art collection really was down in the root cellar then she was a dead woman.
Using one hand, the lawyer tossed more tiles aside until the edges of the metal door were visible. He grabbed the broom and brushed the rest of the sand away, revealing a thick steel plate approximately three feet wide and four feet long with a large ring recessed into it.
Zelda pushed herself further against the wall, trying to disappear. The spade’s handle cut into her back. Instinctively she wrapped her fingers around it. As soon as Heider opened that door and saw the paintings, he would shoot her, she was sure of it. Could the spade’s blade deflect the bullet? Was she even fast enough to find out?
As Konrad worked his fingers around the rusty metal ring, she gulped reflexively and tightened her grip on the gardening tool’s long wooden handle.
“Uncle, this is for you,” he exclaimed as he yanked on the ring with his free hand. The door didn’t budge. Muttering in German, he used his fingers to scrape sand out from around the edges of the metal entryway. He pulled again, heaving with all of his might, but nothing happened.
Scowling at Zelda, Heider barked, “You try it.” He took a step back and waited for her to move forward and grab the handle. She didn’t want to let go of the spade, yet staring down the barrel of Heider’s gun, she didn’t see any other options. After releasing the garden tool, Zelda reluctantly tugged on the ring. Nothing. She pulled again, really putting her back into it, curiosity trumping her fear of death. But the door remained sealed.
“It must be rusted shut,” she wheezed, winded from the effort.
“Nonsense. Move back and turn around. Spread your arms out against the wall.”
Zelda did as she was told, positioning her body over the spade. The lawyer lay his gun down by his feet and pulled on the ring with both hands, grunting and groaning from the tremendous effort.
All of a sudden the door sprung loose, jerking open unexpectedly. Heider toppled backwards in surprise, the thick metal door falling onto his left leg, momentarily trapping him. His cry of pain turned to one of joy as he gazed down into the dark space below. “Mein Gott, es stimmt! My God, it is true!” he cried out, transfixed by the sight.
As he stared into the root cellar, his leg still ensnared, Zelda instinctively knew this was it, her last chance to escape this shed alive. Grabbing the spade with one hand, she leapt over the opening and onto the metal door, crushing Heider’s leg. They both screamed as she wacked the lawyer with the garden tool, hitting him as hard as she could across one cheek. His screaming stopped instantly, replaced by blood streaming out of his scalp and mouth.
Zelda stared down at the lawyer’s disfigured face, trying to process what she’d just done, when another anguished cry arose from behind her, moments before the shed’s door burst open. She swung her spade wide as she turned to face her attacker.
“Friedrich?” She blinked in surprise, sure she was hallucinating.
“Zelda? Here you are!” Friedrich cried out as he ran to her. “You’re okay.” He hugged her tight, rocking her back and forth. “I heard a scream and thought, if I don’t do something now, it will be too late.”
Tears of relief welled up in her eyes as she relaxed into his embrace, one hand still wrapped around the spade’s handle. “But how did you find me?”
“When I got back and saw you were gone, along with the letters and our translations, I woke up all my housemates to find out what had happened but no one had heard a thing. I couldn’t find a note so I tried calling you, but your phone was in the kitchen. At first I thought you’d gone home, but neither the police nor your housemates had seen you. That’s when I guessed you had figured something out about Arjan’s hiding place and had rushed off to Rita’s old house. I rang the bell but no one was home. I was about to give up when I saw that construction site you’d mentioned. When I looked through the fence and saw a light on in their shed, I wondered if you were inside. I’d just snuck through the two fences into their backyard when I heard you scream. What happened? Why were you yelling just now?” Friedrich searched her face for an answer, following her nervous gaze to Konrad Heider, his head now encircled by a pool of blood.
“Is that the lawyer?” he said, gaping in horror.
Zelda pushed back from her friend and nodded.
“What happened to him?”
“I hit him with this,” she replied sheepishly, holding up the blood-covered blade for him to see. “He was going to shoot me once we found the artwork! I don’t think I killed him, but maybe we should call an ambulance.” She still couldn’t believe she had actually hit Heider hard enough to knock him out, let alone mangled his face so badly. Zelda began to shake a little as the shock set in, hugging the spade close to her body.
“Wait, what were you two doing in here?” Friedrich asked, finally noticing the towers of concrete tiles stacked up around the room. “Why did you dig up the floor?” All at once the opening to the root cellar registered. “Is Arjan’s artwork down there?” her friend asked.
Zelda nodded. “I think so. I haven’t looked yet.”
She gazed across the shed, wondering what exactly was stored below. The entrance to the root cellar was now splattered with blood, Konrad Heider’s blood. He was lying on his side facing them, his eyes closed and one leg still trapped under the metal door. She told herself she could see him breathing, that he was just unconscious, but knew the longer they waited to call the authorities, the smaller the chance that Heider would survive the day.
“We really should call the police, shouldn’t we?” she asked again, leaning heavily on the spade. Neither moved. Zelda was torn. Heider did try to kill her and was in fact responsible for Gerard’s death. He had caused so much confusion and pain, as his uncle had done before him. Zelda hated him for what he’d done, but couldn’t consciously allow another human being to die, even if he deserved to. Besides, all she really wanted to do was get out of here and let someone else deal with this mess. Right now, she couldn’t care less what was down in that hole.
“Do you have your phone with you? We should go outside and call them…” she finally mustered, too late.
Friedrich was already moving towards the root cellar. “It won’t hurt to take a quick peek,” he grinned, swiveling his head back to look at her.
A shot rang out. A red stain began spreading across Friedrich’s shoulder as he sank to his knees. The lawyer was up on one elbow, unsteadily trying to cock his gun again.
“No!” Zelda yelled. In one fluid motion, she pushed Friedrich down to the ground and swiped the spade across Heider’s neck and shoulder. As the lawyer’s head snapped back, the gun dropped out of his hand. Primal screams filled the room as she hit him again and again, her rage fueling her strength.
She looked down at the lawyer, his head and torso now a mass of red. She released the bloody spade, letting it drop noisily to the ground. Her stomach clenched as she stared at her hands. How could she have done something so horrible?
Friedrich moaned as he tried to prop himself up. Zelda went to her friend, gently cradled him in her arms. “I’m so sorry.”
He smiled slightly. “It’s nothing. Just a flesh wound.” His words were slurred. Zelda could hear sirens in the distance, rapidly approaching. Any neighbor who’d heard that shot would have called the police immediately.
The bloody spot on Friedrich’s t-shirt was growing by the second. “Why did you have to be so damn impatient? That’s my job,” she whimpered while kissing his cheek, praying an ambulance was already on its way.
“It was worth it, to get you to kiss me.” His eyelids began to drop.
“Oh, Friedrich,” Zelda kissed him full up on the mouth.
“Ah, let the morphine commence,” he mumbled as his body relaxed into hers.
The sirens were racing up the street. Zelda could see flashing blue lights through the shed’s open entryway and hear car doors slamming shut. “Stay with me, Friedrich, help is right outside!”
She looked over at the lawyer, now a bleeding heap on the floor, his head bent back at a strange angle, wondering if she’d just killed a man. Then at her friend, slipping slowly out of her embrace as the pool of blood around him grew.
Zelda gazed at the root cellar’s opening, wondering if any amount of artwork was worth all of this chaos and death. Was it even true? Was there really a cache of lost masterpieces only a few feet away? She resisted the urge to look inside, instead holding her dying friend tight. There would be time enough to find out what, if anything, was stored down below. Right now Friedrich needed her. And that was enough.