Henry took out his notebook and settled into the high back leather chair.
"As you know, I am an art enthusiast. There are many of us, and we enjoy the competition of the auction. An afternoon of bidding at Christies or Sotheby’s is an extraordinarily pleasant diversion. Obtaining an object of beauty is one of my great pleasures in life. But that is only half of the story.” Dr. Schaeffer took a sip of his drink. “The other half requires some explanation.”
There was a light knock at the door, and Hans leaned in. “Dr. Schaeffer, if you don’t need anything else this afternoon…”
“That is fine, Hans. Henry and I have much to discuss. I will speak with you tomorrow.”
***
Hans gave Henry a polite, albeit cold, nod and then closed the door. A moment later, the front door could be heard opening and shutting.
Hans walked across the street and down the block. He entered a bakery, where a man waited for him.“They will be there for hours. I propose we head up the street.”
“I could use a pint.”
Hans and Arthur, unbeknownst to their employers, were old friends. They also had their own agenda. They sat in the corner, away from prying ears, and spoke in hushed tones.
Arthur started. “Patrick would have a fit if he knew what was going on.”
Hans laughed. “The father is a prick, wearing his collar and acting pious all the time. But we know his skeletons, don’t we, my friend?”
Arthur and Hans clinked glasses. Arthur asked, “So, what do you know about this Henry guy?”
“He is not to be underestimated. He was Michael Thomas Moore’s apprentice and seems much cleverer; plus he has help, something Mr. Moore could have used.”
“So where are we?”
“The Falcon assures me that everything is on schedule, despite the Eye still being at sea. We are a few days from never having to work again. I must admit, I will miss Dr. Schaeffer, but it will pass. How is the whale?”
“He is as disgusting as ever.” Arthur shook his head. “He is almost manic over the thought that the good father may call off the auction. His paranoia is beyond the pale, although, I guess it is reasonable in this case.”
They laughed again.
***
Dr. Schaeffer was just finishing up with his childhood and Henry was getting a little impatient, but then the story got interesting. “So there I was with a nice practice, and Hitler starts World War II. Before I knew what had happened, I was practicing my trade in the Luftwaffe.” He stood up and went to the bar, refreshed his drink, and continued. “There were many evil people, on both sides. I had devoted my life to the healing of the sick, and suddenly death and cruelty were everywhere. I suppose I shouldn’t complain; my parents were safe, for a while at least. I am ashamed of what Hitler did in the name of the ‘Master Race.’ When I learned of the camps, I started to think of redemption.”
“Redemption?”
“Yes. One man can only do a little, but I was determined to devote my life, and considerable resources, to do as much as I could. I had only a few friends during the war, but they were well connected. We would gather, and they would tell stories of the plunder and looting of the Jews. The world’s finest pieces of art were being stolen, hidden, and sometimes burned. The pieces which did survive, hidden away in secret spots all across Europe, are still mostly there. I decided to devote my life to returning these paintings, sculptures, and other treasures to their families. Sadly, many of them are still lost, but I have managed to acquire and return seventeen pieces.”
“You are buying art and giving it back?”
“Yes. There are a number of Jewish organizations who are searching for the stolen treasures. They have been compiling lists of missing pieces since the war ended. I have made a friend with a rabbi, who researches each piece I buy. On those occasions when he has determined that the piece was stolen, he returns it anonymously to the rightful family.”
“I am impressed,” Henry said, and he was.
“Don’t be. I am only doing what must be done. The problem is that there are many people who don’t care if there is blood on the work they buy. Art collectors are soulless. This brings me to the Eye of God, a truly unique opportunity.”
“Was it stolen?”
“Well, not in the same way as the other pieces. But it has caused quite a stir, and I intend to use this to my advantage.”
The woman with the accent brought in a tray of food. She asked the doctor if there would be any guests for dinner. Henry declined when invited, explaining that he had a previous engagement.
Henry enjoyed a few of the tiny sandwiches the woman had brought in. Dr. Schaeffer seemed ill at ease. "I don't believe in fairy tales Mr. Wood. My own fascination with this..."