Adriana sat quietly, considering what he’d said.
Friedrich raised a finger. “There is someone who may be able to help you, though. She was a friend of Holger for many years. Some believe they had some kind of a romantic relationship. Of course, rumors abound that way. Her name is Helen Obermeyer. I believe she still lives in the same house. Every now and then she comes into my shop to buy something. We do not talk much but if there is anyone that can get you into that fortress of a home, it would be her.”
“Where can I find her?”
Friedrich gave her some quick directions and asked if she needed a pen and paper.
“No,” she said, “I remember everything.”
She stood up and reached into her jacket pocket then tossed a thick, white envelope onto the table in front of him.
“Gracias.” She said and walked out of the room, headed for the front of the shop.
He gently picked up the envelope and peeked inside. Within it was as stack of Euros, each bill worth one hundred. “Bitte,” he said the German word as he heard the door to the front open.
Adriana had followed Friedrich’s instructions and had little trouble finding the place. Now she stood in front of a beige home with a white door. It appeared to be several hundred years old, though still well maintained. Of course, that was a common thing in Germany. Many homes were passed down through generations, each successive heir doing what they could to renovate and keep up the ancestral manor.
An elderly woman with short, white hair appeared in the doorway a few moments later. She was tall and slender. While the skin on her face was wrinkled and old, she still carried herself with a youthful pride. The woman said nothing at first, sizing up Adriana.
“Frau Obermeyer?” Villa asked after the woman had opened the door.
The lady raised an eyebrow. “Und who are you?” Her English was perfect despite the German accent.
“My name is Adriana Villa. I have a few questions I’d like to ask you if you have a moment.”
The woman appeared irritated. “Questions. What kind of questions?”
“In regards to this,” Adriana held out the photo of the painting.
The woman’s cold demeanor changed to confusion. She looked up and down the street then motioned for Adriana to enter. She did as instructed and followed the woman into the home.
Inside, the appearance of the place was rustic. The old wooden floors made her feel like going back in history. The smell of the wood mixed with a scent similar to a library, again adding to the sense of long ago.
“Would you like some coffee?” the host asked politely, carrying the photograph into the kitchen.
“No, thank you.” Adriana preferred to get back to the subject of her visit. “So you know this painting?”
The woman found her way to a small, black bistro table in a kitchen nook that looked out on a back yard. Helen sat down and motioned for Adriana to do the same. She held the photograph reverently. When she spoke, her voice was distant.
“I have not seen this painting in many years,” she began.
“Could you tell me where have you seen it?” Adriana asked.
The woman laughed a little. “My dear, I am certain you arrived here after speaking with our friend at the antique shop. He no doubt told you where this painting is located. So why are you here to see me?”
Adriana thought for a moment. “Friedrich told me that you were friends with Holger Foyt, that you might be able to help me get into his home.”
“To what ends? Are you a thief? If so, what kind of friend would I be to show get you access of that nature?”
“Frau,” Adriana said respectfully, “this painting was stolen a long time ago by some very bad people.”
“And you justify your own thievery this way?” Helen tossed the photograph back across the table. Her eyes drifted to the window and stared out into the forest.
“It was stolen from a family during the war. They are the rightful owners. I’m going to get it back with your without your help.” Adriana’s tone sincere and her determination impressed the older woman.
Helen smiled momentarily. “Our fathers were friends,” she started. “Holger’s was a general, as I’m sure our friend Friedrich informed you. Mine was an officer as well. Since our fathers were friends, it was natural that Holger and I became close.
“When I was younger, we spent most of our time together,” she spoke of the period fondly. “We became closer when my father was killed by the allies near the end of the war.”
Adriana’s face expressed sympathy.
The woman shook her head. “Do not take pity on me. My father was a Nazi and a thief. I do not condone what he, nor any of the others did. I loved him because he was my father but I am not proud of his legacy.”
Adriana understood. Helen went on, “I remember seeing that painting with all the others in Holger’s sitting room. His father used to sit and stare at it while sipping on brandy. After the war, he was one of the few high-ranking officers the allies did not go after for war crimes. Then, things began to change.”
Helen took a sip of her coffee from a small, porcelain cup before continuing. “What had once been a simple admiration became an obsession. Whenever I saw the General in his study, he was looking through maps, old books, and taking fierce notes. All of it had to do with the painting.”
Adriana looked curious. “What was he doing?”
“When the war ended, many German soldiers went back to their lives and started trying to move on. A few, though, were so dedicated to the Reich that they began looking for ways to resurrect it,” she paused for a moment, lost in thought. “Such folly.”
“You said resurrect it. What do you mean by that?”
Helen laughed and looked down into her mug. “You haven’t heard about Nazi’s search for immortality?”
Adriana shook her head.
“I suppose that is understandable,” Helen shrugged. “Most people only know the surface of what the Nazi’s were into. They see the history that was written by the victors: holocaust, madmen, cruelty. Only a rare few look beyond what is in the books and see what else the Reich was doing. Some have come across their research in genetics and the experimentation that was done on humans and animals. Others have looked into the testing that was done with quantum mechanics. There is even some evidence that suggests the Nazis were trying to find extraterrestrials. But one part of their research was of particular interest to Holger’s father.”
She paused for a moment, seeming to consider something. Adriana leaned forward, anxious to hear the secret.
“One of the greatest searches the Nazis performed was for something that could provide them with a source of power greater than anything known to man. Immortality.” The older woman eased back in her chair and took deep breath.
“Immortality?” Adriana seemed slightly confused. “What could they possibly have been looking for that would provide immortality?”
Helen smiled and pointed at the old photograph still lying on the table.
“The painting?”
The older woman let out a flurry of laughter. “No, no, my dear. Not the painting. The tree in the painting.”
“I don’t understand. What is so special about this tree?” Adriana held up the picture and looked at it closely.
“Adolf Hitler was a very religious man,” Helen said. “Though most people don’t know it. For all of the detestable things that he did, deep down he believed that God was on his side.
Adriana was incredulous. “I find it hard to believe that he was a religious man.”
Helen shrugged. “Most people find it hard to believe. But Hitler was deeply convinced that Germany was blessed by God, that it was a new nation of His chosen people.”