| |
“AH, JUST AS I SUSPECTED, Interpol is interested in this Chap Potts.” Sir Jonathan said sitting down to breakfast with a telegram and a folder in his hand.
“You were suspicious of him before our visit, weren't you Sir? What was it you found in the basement?” Sue Lee asked pouring tea for him.
“A stamp collector's record book but the stamps it contained were of no value, only if you lived in San Francisco. The collection it did contain were stamps dating from 1820 to 1850. They were confiscated by the Germans during the occupation of Paris. All very valuable, and now extremely hard to sell, especially, during these times of the Nuremberg tribunals.”
“How did you find that out,” Jane asked?
“Interpol, we added it to our list of missing artifacts, along with information about Mr. Potts. He’s on their watch list. I recognized the binder from the photographs and the unusual company logo. When he mentioned the philanthropists Barbara Weber, and her husband, William. They too are currently under observation for suspicion of profiteering during the war by American intelligence.” Jonathan Paused to accept the toast Jane passed to him. “My theory is Allen is hiding the stamps, and if someone else is after them, he faked the break-ins for police protection. His story passed down about his grandfather being killed is plausible, but I'm sure deliberately misconstrued to add mystery.”
“Why go to all the trouble of telling us he cataloged everything when he didn't? I saw the empty pages when you flip them open.”
Jonathan Munched on his toast before answering.
“That is perplexing. Nevertheless, the overall collection in the basement provides perfect concealment to hide the stamps. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack, so to speak.”
“Do you think his assistant is in with him?” Jane asked while pouring coffee for herself.
“No, I believe he's not. Douglas is only there to work and continue his education. He is also being used as a front while Allen travels and remains unnoticeable. You see, I believe after reading his dossier.” Jonathan paused to hold up the file. “Allen is a loner patiently waiting for the right time to sell, not his father's collection, but the stolen stamps. However, it's strange, there is no mentioning in his folder of his speech impediment.”
“What is the value of the stamps, Jane asked while reaching for the jam?”
“The collection sold intact would be over two hundred and fifty-thousand pounds.”
“Incredible. How do you think it came into his possession, Sir?”
“This is speculation of course, but during the war, we would receive information, some trivial that needed sorting out. One incident was in 1944, Himmler was searching for his Paris mistress, Katherine Welch, a theater director. We later learned. She was in charge of a propaganda production staged for the Red Cross to show how well the Jewish resettlement camps were being run. They added fake cafes, and shops and even put on a concert for the visiting dignitaries. It was such a success Hitler wanted it to become a movie. However, for it to remain secretive, after filming, the Führer ordered everyone involved, including Katherine Welch, to be sent to the Auschwitz concentration camp, and murdered. We were told by our operatives in Paris, Himmler was furious he wanted to question her about a missing item from his collection. He also was searching for her friend Herr Fischer, who was writing his biography and could not be found. With everything going on at that time, I set the information aside, however, after my inquiry yesterday, I received a photograph.”
Jane interrupted and said winking at Sue Lee, “Sent by diplomatic pouch I presume.”
“Yes, quite certainly, it is a candid photograph of Mistress Welch and her writer friend.”He handed Sue Lee and Jane the photo dated. 08-03-40.
“It's definitely Allen or shall I say, Herr Fischer? Apparently, they knew each other a year before she was killed.” Sue Lee said passing the photo to Jane.
“They appear to be more than just chums, don't they, how do you think they met?” Jane asked while handing the picture back to her uncle.
“One explanation I suppose would be they both were involved with the theater crowd.” Sir Jonathan answered while buttering his second piece of toast. “It's plausible Mistress Welch plotted to steal the stamps from her lover boy and brought Allan into her foray convincing Herr Himmler Allen was the one to write his egotistical biography as a distraction. The only problem with my theory is Allen’s stuttering.”
Sue Lee interrupted and said. “The Aryans according to Nazi's ideology were the Nordic people of Germany. Allen fits that description except for the imperfections in his speech. I cannot see how Herr Heinrich would allow him to write his biography.”
“I agree but, I'll say with my theory until proven different.”
“I say, it was the perfect heist, small, valuable, and easily transported. After Katherine Welch death, Herr Potts was on his own and needed a hiding place for the stamps while he escaped. I assume he sent his father a Christmas present,” Jane said.
“That would explain the stamp book among the clutter. Allen's father wasn't interested in stamps and set it aside. Allan knew that, and later removed, replaced, and relocated them, but why leave the book, Sir?” Sue Lee asked while passing more eggs.
“It is correctly dated to match his father's collection. If you didn't understand the binders' markings, you would never know it was created in Paris, exclusively for that stamp collection.”
Sue Lee's phone rang, and she walked back into the kitchen to take the call.
“Sir, it's for you a Mr. Foster.” Sue Lee said returning.
“Ah yes, I do hope you don't mind that Lucie gave him your number to reach me?”
“No, not at all, perhaps, you would be more comfortable in the den. I'll hang up when I hear your voice. Here, take your tea and toast along Sir.”
“That would be appreciated, please excuse me.”
“Well, that's a name I haven't heard before, he must be an American connection? Jane said after Sue Lee returned from the kitchen. I hope he is not too long on the phone, didn't you want to be in Bodega by noon?”
“Shouldn't be a problem, the car is already loaded, and Kane probably delivered our wedding presents this morning. I'm sure he left early so he could fish with John before the activity starts.”
“It is grand that they are marrying without a war to come between them. I wonder what our lives would have been like under similar circumstances? Would I be married to a handsome doctor waiting for him to return from his club while I patiently attended to our two screaming children?” Jane said wistfully.
“Nah, if it ended up that way, you probably be the first Doctor on trial for castration. Please come and help me with the dishes Cinderella.”
“Your right, of course, there've been a few men in my life that I would have considered good candidates for such a procedure,” Jane said helping Sue Lee with the remaining breakfast plates.
“Now what surgical operation might you be referring to?” Sir Jonathan asked Jane as he joined them in the kitchen with his empty cup while munching the last of his toast.
“The castrating of my fantasy husband of course,” Jane said wiping the cups!
“I see; I'm not one to pry, but he must be a cad! Do you wish for me to speak to him?”
Sue Lee stood over the sink smiling with her back to Jane's Uncle Jonathan. Apparently, he had experience interacting with Jane's fantasy ever since she was a child. Sue Lee surmised Jonathan took on the role of uncle and father since his brother's death. He was a wonderful man to keep the family together under one roof and made sure everyone participated in the decision-making. He had a way of projecting an unconditional love. Sue Lee's thoughts were interrupted when Jane asked about his phone call.
“Well, it was two calls actually, I had to confirm what Detective Harrington told us. It is true, we have no other option than waiting to see what our Mr. Potts next move is. It's frustrating of course, but we only have speculations, no real evidence.”
“I will tell Kane about it today, he knows Detective Harrington and between the two of them. They can keep an eye on him.” Sue Lee said turning from the sink and noticed Jonathan was holding the playing card. Jan too saw it and asked.
“Is that the card you absconded from Potts basement, surprising them both? I saw you slip it into your pocket.”
“Please, don’t be vexed with me I'm only a theft when the occasion requires it. We have a new assignment, I was told about it earlier, but that phone call was from the Adele’s family lawyer, Mr. Foster confirmed it.” Jonathan paused and held the card up to the light before continuing. “If it weren't for me recognizing this ace, I never would have seen the stamp album. A bit of good luck, would’t you say? This risqué card belongs in a deck created by a very famous and wealthy New York socialite, Marie Adele, while she was a saloon singer in Yukon Canada during the Klondike Gold rush. She would throw each playing card, one at a time, out to her audience, for a gold nugget in return. According to Lucie’s notes, the stage was full of chunks of gold. This scantly dressed woman was known by the miners as Klondike Mary is Marie Adele.” Jonathan turned the ace of spades for the girls to see the backing and handed it to Jane.
“Wow! This was in 1896; my smallest swim suit covers more! Those miners must have loved her?”
“Why was a wealthy society woman in the Klondike?” Sue Lee asked while admiring Marie’s natural beauty over Jane's shoulder.
“It should be a fascinating story, but perhaps we should be on our way. I can read my notes in the car. However, at this time I only have what Lucie said to me. More information is being sent by the family.”
“This I want to hear,” Jane said handing the ace back and putting the last dish away!
“Me, too if everyone is ready, let's go!” Sue Lee said while hanging the dish towels on the kitchen drying rack.
Jonathan cleared his throat after they crossed the scenic Golden Gate Bridge and said. “Marie’s Journal apparently is a complete story about her life in the Klondike and more. It contains information about several gold strikes and their locations. According to your mother's research, apparently, miners were not only generous with the stage nuggets they openly brag about their strikes after a few drinks.” Jonathan said looking at his notes.
“Is she still alive,” Jane asked?
“Unknown at this time only unsubstantiated rumors.”
“How did the journal become missing and when?” Sue Lee asked slowing for a farmer’s tractor that was moving to the side of the road.
“That we don’t know all we have, at this time, is a notice for a substantial reward to find it. According to Mr. Foster, it would be a bonus, A huge one indeed!”
“If we find it?” Jane interrupted?