Mystery of the Amber Room

Chapter 19

“We have to find the Amber Room, or else the Order will. It is of utmost importance that we find it before they do because this time they will topple the world's governments and instigate violence of genocidal proportions,” Purdue insisted.

They were huddled around a fire in the backyard of a house that Sam had rented in the settlement of Aral. It was semi-furnished three-bedroom shack and did not possess half the amenities the group was used to in First World Countries. But it was inconspicuous and quaint, and they could rest there until Purdue felt better, at least. In the meantime, Sam had to keep a close eye on Detlef to make sure the widower did not lash out and kill the billionaire before sorting out the matter of Gabi's death first.

“We will get on that as soon as you feel better, Purdue,” Sam said. “For now, we just lay low and rest.”

Nina's hair hung in a braid from under her knitted beanie as she lit up another smoke. Purdue's warning, intended to be foreboding, did not strike her as much of a problem with the way she felt about the world lately. It was not so much the verbal exchange with the godlike entity in Sam's psyche that spurred her indifferent thoughts. She was just more aware of the repeating mistakes of mankind and the ever-present failure to maintain balance all over the world.

Aral used to be a fishing port and harbor city before the mighty Aral Sea virtually dried up completely, leaving only a bare desert basin as legacy. It saddened Nina that so many beautiful bodies of water had dried up and vanished because of human infestation. Sometimes, when she felt particularly apathetic, she wondered if the world would not be better off without the human race killing everything in it, not excluding itself.

Humans reminded her of toddlers left in charge of an anthill. They simply did not possess the wisdom or humility to realize that they were part of the world, not in charge of it. In arrogance and irresponsibility they bred like cockroaches without considering that instead of killing the planet to accommodate their numbers and needs, they should have curbed their own population growth. Nina felt vexed that, as a collective, humans refused to see that producing smaller populations with higher intellectual faculty would yield a far more efficient world without destroying all beauty for their greed and reckless existence.

Deep in thought Nina smoked her cigarette next to the fire. Thoughts and ideologies that she was not supposed to be entertaining entered her mind, where it was safe to harbor taboo subjects. She thought about the Nazi objectives and found that some of those superficially atrocious ideas were, in fact, feasible solutions to a lot of problems that had brought the world to its knees in the present age.

Naturally, she abhorred genocide, cruelty, and oppression. But ultimately she agreed that to a degree eradicating weak genetic make-up and implementing birth control by sterilization after two children per family was not altogether monstrous. It would keep human numbers down, therefore preserve forest and agricultural land instead of constant deforestation for the construction of more human habitat.

When she had looked at the land below during their flight to Aral, Nina had lamented all these things in her mind. The glorious landscapes, once full of life had shriveled and withered under the foot of man.

No, she did not condone the acts of the Third Reich, but its proficiency and order were undeniable. ‘If only today there were people with such rigid discipline and singular aspiration wanting to change the world for the better,' she sighed as she finished the last of her butt. ‘Imagine a world in which someone like that didn't oppress people but stopped ruthless corporations. In which, instead of exterminating cultures, they would destroy media brainwashing, and we would all be better off. And there would be fucking lake to feed the people here now.'

She flicked her cigarette butt into the fire. Her eyes caught Purdue's staring at her, but she pretended not to be fazed by his attention. Perhaps it was the dancing shadows of the fire that gave his gaunt face such a menacing look, but she did not like it.

“How will you know where to start looking?” Detlef asked. “I read that the Amber Room was destroyed during the war. Do these people expect you to magically make something re-appear that does not exist anymore?”

Purdue seemed agitated, but the others assumed it was due to his traumatic experience at the hands of Klaus Kemper. “It still exists, they say. And if we don't beat them to it they will undoubtedly get the upper hand for good.”

“Why?” Nina asked. “What's so powerful about the Amber Room — if it even still exists?”

“I don't know, Nina. They did not go into the specifics, but they made it clear that it had undeniable power,” Purdue rambled. “What it has or does, I have no idea. I just know that it is very dangerous — as things of perfect beauty usually are.”

Sam could see that the phrase was directed at Nina, but Purdue's tone was not lovelorn or soppy. If he was not mistaken, it almost sounded antagonistic. Sam was wondering how Purdue really felt about Nina spending so much time with him, and it appeared to be a sore matter for the usually buoyant billionaire.

“Where was its last location?” Detlef asked Nina. “You are a historian. Do you know where the Nazis could have taken it if it was not destroyed?”

“I only know what's written in the history books, Detlef,” she admitted, “but sometimes there are facts hidden in the details that give us clues.”

“And what do your history books say?” he asked amicably, appearing to be quite interested in Nina’s vocation.

She sighed and shrugged as she recalled the legend of the Amber Room as dictated by her textbooks. “The Amber Room was made in Prussia in the early 1700's, Detlef. It was fashioned from amber panels and gold inlays of leaves and carvings with mirrors behind them to make it look even more splendid when the light fell on it.”

“Who did it belong to?” he asked, biting into a dry crust of home-baked bread.

“The then king, Frederick Wilhelm I, but he gave the Amber Room to the Russian Tsar Peter the Great as a gift. But here is the cool thing,” she said. “While it belonged to the Tsar it was actually expanded several times! Imagine the value, even then!”

“By the Tsar?” Sam asked her.

“Aye. They say when he was done expanding the chamber it contained six tons of amber. So as always the Russians earned their reputation for their affinity for size.” she laughed. “But then it was looted a Nazi unit during World War II.”

“Of course,” Detlef lamented.

“And where did they keep it?” Sam wanted to know. Nina shook her head.

“What was left was taken to then Königsberg to be restored, and it was subsequently put on display there. But… that is not the end of it,” Nina continued, taking a glass of red wine from Sam. “There it was reputedly destroyed once and for all by Allied air attacks when the castle was bombed in 1944. Some records indicate that when the Third Reich fell in 1945, and the Red Army occupied Königsberg, the Nazis had already taken the remnants of the Amber Room and smuggled them onto a passenger liner in Gdynia to get it out of Königsberg.”

“And where did it go?” Purdue asked with intense interest. He knew much of what Nina had relayed already, but only up to the part where the Amber Room had been razed by the Allied air strikes.

Nina shrugged. “Nobody knows. Some accounts tell that the ship was torpedoed by a Soviet submarine, and the Amber Room was lost at sea. But in truth nobody really knows.”

“If you had to guess,” Sam challenged her cordially, “according to what you know about the situation as a whole during the war. What do you think happened?”

Nina had her own theory of what she did and did not believe from the records. “I really don't know, Sam. I just don't believe the torpedo story. It sounds too much like a cover story to stop everyone from looking for it. But then again,” she sighed, “I don't have any idea what could have happened. I'll be honest; I believe the Russians intercepted the Nazis, but not like that.” She chuckled awkwardly and shrugged again.

Purdue's light blue eyes stared at the fire in front of him. He was considering the possible consequences of Nina's tale, along with what he learned about what had happened in the Bay of Gdansk at the same time. He snapped out of his frozen state.

“I think we should take that account on faith,” he announced. “I suggest we start where the ship has supposedly sunk, just to have a starting point. Who knows, we might even find some clues there.”

“You mean diving?” Detlef exclaimed.

“Correct,” Purdue affirmed.

Detlef shook his head, “I don't dive. No, thank you!”

“Come now, old boy!” Sam smiled, lightly slapping Detlef on the back. “You can run into live fire, but you cannot take a swim with us?”

“I hate water,” the German admitted. “I can swim. I just don’t. Water makes me very uncomfortable.”

“Why? Did you have a bad experience?” Nina asked.

“Not that I know of, but perhaps I made myself forget whatever made me despise swimming,” he revealed.

“That doesn't matter,” Purdue weighed in. “You can keep watch for us since there is no way we can get the necessary permits to dive there. Can we count on you for that?”

Detlef gave Purdue a long hard look that had Sam and Nina alarmed and ready to intervene, but he simply answered, “That, I can do.”

It was shortly before midnight. They waited for their meat and fish on the grill to be done, and the soothing crackle of the fire lulled them into a sense of reprieve from their troubles.

“David, tell me about the business you had with Gabi Holtzer,” Detlef insisted suddenly, finally bringing forth the inevitable.

Purdue frowned, perplexed by the strange request from the stranger he had assumed to be a private security consultant. “What do you mean?” he asked the German.

“Detlef,” Sam warned gently, advising the widower to keep his cool. “You remember the deal, right?”

Nina's heart jumped. She had been anxiously anticipating this all night. Detlef kept his cool as far as they could tell, but he repeated his question in a cold voice.

“I want you to tell me about your business with Gabi Holtzer at the British Consulate in Berlin the day she died,” he said in a calm tone that was deeply unsettling.

“Why?” Purdue asked, infuriating Detlef with his apparent sidestepping.

“Dave, this is Detlef Holtzer,” Sam said, hoping that the introduction would explain the German man's urging. “He is — no was — Gabi Holtzer's husband and he has been looking for you so you could tell him what happened that day.” Sam deliberately formulated his words this way to remind Detlef that Purdue was entitled to the benefit of the doubt.

“I am so sorry for your loss!” Purdue replied almost instantly. “My God, it was awful!” It was evident that Purdue was not putting on a fake face. His eyes filled with tears as he relived those last moments before he had been abducted.

“The media says that she committed suicide,” Detlef said. “I know my Gabi. She would never…”

Purdue stared at the widower with wide eyes. “She did not commit suicide, Detlef. She was killed right in front of me!”

“Who did it?” Detlef roared. He was emotional and unstable, being so close to the revelation he had been seeking all this time. “Who killed her?”

Purdue gave it some thought and looked at the distraught man. “I–I cannot remember.”