The Amber Room

FORTY-TWO

Stod

1:45 p.m.

The garni's grand salon was full. Paul stood off to the side next to Rachel, watching the drama unfold. Certainly, if ambience counted, the room's decor should definitely help Wayland McKoy. Colorful, thickly framed maps of old Germany hung from oak-paneled walls. A shimmering brass chandelier, burnished antique chairs, and a richly designed Oriental carpet rounded out the atmosphere.

Fifty-six people filled the chairs, their faces a mixture of wonder and exhaustion. They'd been bussed straight from Frankfurt, after arriving by air four hours ago. Their ages varied from early thirties to mid-sixties. Race varied, too. Most were white, two black couples, both older, and one Japanese pair. They all seemed eager and anticipatory.

McKoy and Grumer stood at the front of the long room along with five of the excavation's employees. A television with VCR rested on a metal stand. Two somber men sat in the rear, notebooks in hand, and appeared to be reporters. McKoy wanted to exclude them, but both flashed identification from ZDF, a German news organization that had optioned the story, and insisted on staying. "Just watch what you say," Paul had warned.

"Welcome, partners," McKoy said, smiling like a television evangelist. A murmur of conversation receded.

"There's coffee, juice, and danish outside. I know you've had a long journey and are tired. Jet lag's hell, right? But I'm sure you're also anxious to hear how things are goin'."

The direct approach had been Paul's idea. McKoy had favored stalling, but Paul had argued that would do nothing but arouse suspicions. "Keep the tone pleasant and mild," he'd warned. "No 'fuck you' every other word like I heard yesterday, okay?" McKoy repeatedly assured him he was housebroken, fully schooled on how to handle a crowd.

"I know the question on all your minds. Have we found anythin'? No, not yet. But we did make progress yesterday." He motioned to Grumer. "This is Herr Doktor Alfred Grumer, professor of art antiquities at the University of Mainz. Herr Doktor is our resident expert on the dig. I'll let him explain what happened."

Grumer stepped forward, looking the part of an elderly professor in a tweed wool jacket, corduroy pants, and knit tie. He stood with his right hand stuffed in his trouser pocket, his left arm free. With a disarming smile he said, "I thought I would tell you a little something about how this venture came about.

"Looting art treasure is a time-honored tradition. The Greeks and Romans always stripped a defeated nation of their valuables. Crusaders during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries pilfered all across Eastern Europe and the Middle East. Western European churches and cathedrals continue to be adorned with their plunder.

"In the seventeenth century, a more refined method of stealing began. After a military defeat the great royal collections--there were no museums in those days--were purchased rather than stolen. An example. When Tsarist armies occupied Berlin in 1757, Frederick II's collections were not touched. To have tampered with them would have been regarded as barbaric, even by the Russians, who were themselves deemed barbarians by Europeans.

"Napoleon was perhaps the greatest looter of all. Germany's, Spain's, and Italy's museums were stripped clean so the Louvre could be stocked full. After Waterloo, at the Congress of Vienna in 1815, France was ordered to return the stolen art. Some was, but a lot remained the property of France and can still be seen in Paris."

Paul was impressed with how Grumer handled himself. Like a teacher in class. The group seemed fascinated by the information.

"Your President Lincoln issued an order during the American Civil War that called for the protection of Southern classical works of art, libraries, scientific collections, and precious instruments. A conference in Brussels in 1874 endorsed a similar proposal. Nicholas II, the Russian Tsar, proposed even more ambitious protections, which were approved at the Hague in 1907, but these codes proved of limited value during the two world wars following.

"Hitler completely ignored the Hague Convention and mimicked Napoleon. The Nazis created an entire administrative department that did nothing but steal. Hitler wanted to build a supershowcase--the Fuhrermuseum--to be the largest collection of art in the world. He intended to locate this museum in Linz, Austria, his birthplace. The Sonderauftrag Linz, Hitler called it. Special Mission Linz. It was to become the heart of the Third Reich, designed by Hitler himself."

Grumer paused a moment, seemingly allowing the information to be absorbed.

"Plunder for Hitler, though, served another purpose. It demoralized the enemy, and this was especially true in Russia, where the Imperial palaces around Leningrad were decimated in full view of local townspeople. Not since the Goths and Vandals had Europe witnessed so spiteful an assault on human culture. Museums all over Germany were stocked full with stolen art, particularly the Berlin museums. It was in the waning days of the war, with the Russians and Americans close, that a trainload of this art was evacuated from Berlin south to the Harz Mountains. Here, in this region where we are right now."

The television sprang to life with a panning image of a mountain range. Grumer pointed a controller and paused the video on a forested scene.

"The Nazis loved hiding things underground. The Harz Mountains now surrounding us were used extensively, since they were the closest underground depositories to Berlin. Examples of what was found after the war proves this point. The German national treasury was hidden here along with over a million books, paintings of all descriptions, and tons of sculptures. But perhaps the strangest cache was found not far from here. An American team of soldiers reported finding a fresh brick wall, nearly two meters thick, five hundred meters into the mountain. It was removed, and a locked steel door waited on the other side."

Paul watched the partners' faces. They were riveted. He was, too.

"Inside, the Americans found four enormous caskets. One was decorated with a wreath and Nazi symbols, the name Adolf Hitler on the side. German regimental banners draped the other three coffins. A jeweled scepter and orb, two crowns, and swords were also found. The whole thing had a theatrical arrangement, like a shrine. Imagine what these soldiers thought. Here was the tomb of Hitler. But, alas, it wasn't. Instead the coffins contained the remains of Field Marshal von Hindenburg, Hindenburg's wife, Frederick the Great, and Frederick William I."

Grumer pointed the remote control and released the video. The color image shifted to the inside of the underground chamber. McKoy had traveled to the site earlier and remade the video from yesterday, an edited version to buy a little time with the partners. Grumer now used that video to explain the digging, the three transports, and the bodies. Fifty-six pairs of eyes were glued to the screen.

"Finding these trucks is most exciting. Obviously, something of great value was moved here. Trucks were a precious commodity, and to forfeit three in a mountain meant a lot was at stake. The five bodies only add to the mystery."

"What did you find inside the trucks?" came the first question from the audience.

McKoy stepped to the front. "They're empty."

"Empty?" several asked at once.

"That's right. All three beds were bare." McKoy motioned to Grumer, who popped in another videotape.

"This is not unusual," Grumer said.

An image rematerialized, an area of the chamber intentionally not filmed on the first tape.

"This shows the other entrance to the chamber." Grumer pointed at the screen. "We hypothesize there may be another chamber past this point. That's where we will now dig."

"You're telling us the trucks are empty," an older man asked.

Paul realized that this was the hard part. The questions. Reality. But they'd gone over everything, he and Rachel prepping McKoy like a witness about to be cross-examined. Paul had approved the strategy of saying there may be another chamber. Hell, there might be. Who knows? At least it would keep the partners happy a few days until McKoy's crew could burrow into the other entrance and learn for sure.

McKoy fended off the challenges well, each inquiry answered completely and with a smile. The big man was right. He did know how to work a crowd. Paul's eyes constantly scanned the spacious salon, trying to gauge the individual reaction.

So far, so good.

Most seemed satisfied with the explanation.

Toward the back of the room, at the double doorway leading out to the lobby, he noticed a woman slip in. She was short, with medium-length blond hair, and stayed in the shadows, making it hard to distinguish her face. Yet there was something familiar about her.

"Paul Cutler here is my legal counsel," McKoy said.

He turned at the mention of his name.

"Mr. Cutler is available to assist Herr Doktor Grumer and myself in the event we have any legal difficulties at the site. We don't expect any, but Mr. Cutler, a lawyer from Atlanta, has graciously volunteered his time."

He smiled at the group, uncomfortable with the loose representations but powerless to say anything. He acknowledged the crowd, then turned back to the doorway.

The woman was gone.