Secrets She Kept (24 page)

HANNAH STERLING

FEBRUARY 1973

The phone rang and rang, but Carl did not answer.
He must still be in East Berlin.

At last a woman answered.

“Carl Schmidt, please.”

She began rattling something off in German.

“Please, I don’t speak German. Do you speak English?”

“Ah.” I could hear the pride in her voice. “My English not so good. Herr Schmidt is not here.”

I closed my eyes.
Why did I send you off on that wild goose chase? I need you here
 
—now!
“Please, as soon as he returns, tell him to come to Hannah. He’ll know. He’ll understand.”

“Ja, ja,”
she replied knowingly, with a bit of smirk in her voice. “I tell him.”

What? So I’m just one more girl in a long line?
I couldn’t think about that now.

I didn’t want to open the door behind the bookcase alone, to snoop through whatever Grandfather had hidden there, but this might be my only opportunity. If it was in some way linked to the open ledger, if the ledger was linked to families he’d sold out, I had to know. And I had to know where my mother fit in that picture.

When Grandfather returned home, he would surely change the locks once he suspected I’d seen the ledger or the secret room. Once Dr. Peterson or Herr Eberhardt realized I was alone in the house, they’d surely appear and take charge, perhaps remove everything. Could they do that? I didn’t know.

I grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen and headed for the library. Removing the book, I swung the bookcase outward. It was not as easy as swinging it closed, and I wondered if it was this effort that had set off Grandfather’s heart.

The latch for the bookcase was cleverly hidden in the recess of the wall and the keyhole concealed in the bookcase itself
 
—behind heavy volumes. No one could see it, unless they knew precisely what to look for.

I turned the small switch just inside. Light flooded the tiny room
 
—a narrow aisle really. Shelves, floor to ceiling, were sparsely lined with an assortment of jewelry displayed and tagged in a sort of pencil-written shorthand I couldn’t decipher. Small pieces of sculpture also rested on the shelves
 
—some made of ivory and others heavy, marble and possibly gold. I could not imagine their worth. There were first editions of classics in English and beautifully bound and tooled leather volumes in German, also tagged. There was silver
 
—coffee urns and teapots, trays. Beautiful bowls of intricately cut crystal. Stacked against the wall were oil paintings, some canvases loosely rolled and wrapped in brown paper and others free standing in their frames.

I’ve no idea how long I stood in the treasure trove. I was examining the contents of a jewelry display case and had just emptied a velvet bag
of cut gems into my palm when I heard a knock that seemed far away.
Was that the front or back door?

Cupping my palm, I poured the gems back into the small drawstring bag, stowing it on the shelf. The knock came again, louder this time.

I slipped through the wall opening, closed the bookcase, this time letting it latch, and flicked off the flashlight.

An urgent knock on the library window made me jump, and I drew open the drapes. “Carl!”

He motioned for me to let him in and I ran round to the kitchen door.

“My landlady said you telephoned, that you said to come right away. Are you all right?”

“I am now.” My heart would not behave itself
 
—for fear of Grandfather’s state and for the wonder of discovery of the hidden room and surely for the pure relief that Carl Schmidt was standing there before me. Propriety to the wind, I fell in his arms.

“Now, now
 
—what’s happened?” He held me close, pushing hair from my eyes.

Swiping away tears I hadn’t intended, I poured out my discovery of Grandfather sprawled on the floor, told him about the ambulance and the hospital. And then, the ledger. “Grandfather must have been reading it when he had his heart attack. I want to get to the hospital, but there’s more. This might be my only chance to show you.”

We’d nearly reached the library when the front door opened.

“Dr. Peterson!” I didn’t know if I was more unnerved that he’d appeared or that he had his own key to Grandfather’s house.

“Fräulein Sterling, I imagined that you would be at the hospital with your Grossvater.” It was an accusation.

“I was just about to leave. My driver has just arrived. The ambulance wouldn’t allow me to ride with them.”

He conceded. “Do not let me detain you.”

“Why aren’t you with him? You’re his doctor. And how did you know?”

“Herr Eberhardt telephoned me. I came for his medicine, of course. I must make certain the hospital combines nothing to conflict with his current prescriptions.” But his eyes wavered.

“The medic said it wasn’t needed. That they would have everything on file.”

“I must make certain that Wolfgang took nothing more than what I have prescribed. He is an independent sort, as you know,” he said, clearly trying to make light. “I will check his medicine cupboard to see for myself. Do not let me detain you,” he repeated and stood aside.

“I think it’s the other way around.” I motioned him free access to the stairs.

The set of his jaw told me he wasn’t pleased, but he brushed past us. He paused by the library door and pushed it open. The hesitation in his profile told me that he hadn’t expected the room to be unlocked.

“That’s where I found him. He’d collapsed on the floor. I think he broke his leg
 
—it was twisted so strangely. But you would know that if you’ve seen him.”

“He was not conscious when you found him?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“He was . . . reading? Doing what?”

“I’ve no idea. I wasn’t here. I don’t think that really matters now. Would you like me to help you look for his medicine? Although, I must tell you, the medic and I already searched.”

“
Nein
. I know the way.” He backed out of the room, closing the door. “It may be best to leave everything as it is, in case there are questions later.”

“What sort of questions.” Carl stepped in front of me.

Dr. Peterson’s brows rose. “And you? You are the driver?” The doctor’s contempt was visible.

I brushed past Carl. “May I remind you that this is my grandfather’s house, you’re his doctor, and you’ve just walked in
 
—with your own key
 
—claiming that you are looking for medicine that you probably prescribed. And now you proceed to tell me to leave everything as it is.”

“Herr Sommer and I have a long-standing arrangement. Forgive me if I did not look at you as proprietary in his home. I understood you are here for only a short visit. Though Herr Eberhardt tells me Wolfgang believes that is not true.”

His challenge undermined my confidence. “You seem to know a great deal about my affairs.”

“It is my business to
 
—”

“I am not your business, Dr. Peterson. Now, if you would like to complete your
medical
business, I’ll wait and lock up.”

“There is no need. I have my own key.”

“I’ll wait and lock up. We will follow you to the hospital. That’s where you’re going when you leave here, isn’t it?”

The fury in his eyes could have smoked a pig, reminding me that despite his age, I’d never want to meet him in a dark alley. “I will be a moment.”

While he took the stairs to Grandfather’s room, I sank against Carl.

“Steady,” he whispered. “You were
wunderbar
. Maintain your ground.”

I squeezed his hand
 
—in appreciation, in confidence, in need of his strength.

“Get your coat,” he whispered into my hair. “We’ll follow right away.”

En route to the hospital I told Carl about everything I’d discovered, including the secret room. “So many expensive things
 
—works of art, some surely priceless.”

“Can you match them against the ledger’s entries?”

“I don’t know. There wasn’t time. But I’m very much afraid they will match, and I’m even more afraid that Dr. Peterson knows it
 
—that in some way he’s part of it all. Why else would he be there?”

“Whether or not he knows about the ledger, he must know about Herr Sommer’s unusual finances. He said they have a long-standing arrangement.”

“I’m just not sure what his connection is. Did he expect to inherit from Grandfather and now I’ve thrown a wrench into those plans? Is that why he hates me so?” I shuddered, cold beyond cold. “You saw the way he looked at me.”

“I don’t like the idea of you staying in that house alone, Hannah. As long as Herr Sommer was there, it was one thing. He was proprietary and that kept Peterson in his place. But now that he is away and so vulnerable . . . if the doctor or Herr Eberhardt have any connection to his money or this . . . this heist, you are not safe.”

“I don’t know what else I can do.”

Carl glanced my way. “Stay with my parents. I am certain they will agree.”

“No, Carl
 
—thank you. I don’t think I should do that.”

He gripped the wheel, his mouth grim. “Think about it. Please say you’ll think about it.”

I pressed his shoulder. “I’ll think about it. I promise.”

We lost Dr. Peterson in the hospital parking area but assumed we’d see him in Grandfather’s room. The attending hospital doctor took me aside after I’d viewed Grandfather through the window.

“I assumed the broken leg. But a stroke? Will he recover?”

“It’s difficult to tell to what extent. His heart and age are certainly against him, but the next few hours will tell us much more. There is nothing you can do here until he awakens. You should go home, get some rest. If and when your Grossvater is able to return home, your own strength and stamina will be much needed.”

“I’m here for now, but I don’t know how long I can stay in Germany.”

“Oh? Forgive me, but I understood from Heinrich Eberhardt that you are Herr Sommer’s primary caregiver. This is not correct?”

“Herr Eberhardt? What has he to do with this?”

“Your grandfather’s medical files listed him as immediate contact.”

“Not Dr. Peterson?”

“Dr. Peterson?” The doctor picked up Grandfather’s chart and flipped through its pages. “There is no Dr. Peterson listed.”

Carl waited in the hospital lobby. He flipped his magazine to the waiting room table and met me in three long strides.

“Dr. Peterson is not even on his contact list, let alone listed as his doctor. Eberhardt, his lawyer, is the primary contact.” I pulled Carl toward the door. “Why would he do that? Dr. Peterson said he’s been treating Grandfather for years.”

“Something’s not right. Perhaps the relationship between Herr Sommer and Dr. Peterson is not as friendly as they claim.”

“But why would he lie? Why would either of them pretend a longstanding trust that doesn’t exist?”

“I can’t answer that. But if Herr Sommer doesn’t trust Peterson enough to list him in his medical records, you must not trust him either.”

I tightened the belt of my coat. “I think some changes are in order. Do you know where to find a hardware store?”

“Hardware store? I don’t know this word.”

“Hardware
 
—nuts, bolts, screws. Locks. We need some new locks and deadbolts.”

I hadn’t imagined we’d be too late. Grandfather’s back kitchen door stood wide open. It had been made to look like a burglary. The dining room silver was stolen, the marketing purse pinched, Grandfather’s room ransacked, the library nearly overturned and every lock in the desk broken. But the ledger was still neatly hidden among the volumes on the shelf. Every room had been searched, including mine. Even my lingerie drawer had been turned upside down and its contents thoroughly rifled. That violation was the last straw.

Carl pushed his hands through his hair in frustration. “If it was
Peterson, he must not have found what he was looking for. If he’d known where to look, he’d not have bothered with all this. It took time.”

“Destruction never takes long. But I won’t lay bets on Dr. Peterson alone. Herr Eberhardt seems to have a great deal at stake as well.” I unbuttoned my coat, then remembered the keys in my pocket.

Carl’s eyes widened as I pulled them out, then met mine.

“Hide the key well, Hannah, and then we must call the police. Now.”

By the time the police had come, taken photographs and fingerprints, and given me no hope at all, it was after seven. Carl brought in pizza. Not Germany’s best effort at foreign food, but welcome.

Changing a lock was something Daddy taught me that had come in useful more than once, though I’d never expected to need that skill in Germany. Carl was no novice either.

“That should do it.” He gave the last screw of the deadbolt inside the kitchen door one final turn. “I think we should do something about these downstairs windows
 
—possibly all the windows.”

Carl looked so serious I wanted to kiss him. He was growing more and more into my knight in shining armor. But I didn’t know where acknowledging that might lead and wasn’t ready to find out . . . not here, not now. I tweaked his cheek. “Just changing locks will challenge the ‘good doctor’ and the ‘noble lawyer’ if they come calling. I’d hear a window breaking, and these deadbolts will keep anyone else away.”

“I don’t know, Hannah. Are you certain you don’t want me to stay the night? I can sleep downstairs.”

I closed my eyes and breathed. “That’s so tempting, and I appreciate your offer. But it’s not a good idea. Peterson and Eberhardt would have a heyday with that in painting my picture for Grandfather. If he doesn’t recover, they’d surely try to assassinate my character in the courts.”

“The courts?”

“You haven’t seen the ‘storeroom.’ It’s got to be worth fortunes. They won’t let it go easily. You should have seen Eberhardt’s face when
Grandfather changed his will
 
—extending the ‘house and its contents and all my worldly goods’ to include me.”