A search begins

“Study the past if you would divine the future.”
Confucius

Early the next morning, Mart set out for Max Emmerich’s apartment. As he stepped out of the cab, he saw the same neighbor he had spoken with the previous afternoon. When she spotted Mart, her face wreathed into a smile and she rushed to him.

“Oh, monsieur, I was hoping to see you again! I realized after you left that I failed to get your name. There is wonderful news! Klaus was permitted to return home yesterday afternoon. Max and his lovely girlfriend returned home with him not long after you left. I mentioned that an old friend has stopped to enquire about him, but that I had failed to get a name.”

“No apology necessary. I failed to leave it with you.  My name is Mart Belden. I am very glad to hear that Monsieur Emmerich is enjoying better health. I wonder if it would not be too much trouble if I stopped and paid a visit?” he mused out loud.

“Oh I just know Max would love to see you now. It would be good for him to talk to an old friend. He has carried a heavy burden these past few days with his grandfather, and even before that I could tell there was something troubling him. Come, I will let you in and you can go directly to the apartment.”

Mart followed Mrs. Dubois into the apartment building, grateful for her assistance. He had been uncertain how to approach Max Emmerich to secure his side of the story, but now at least the initial hurdle had been jumped. He also knew that in general people had a more difficult time shutting the door when someone was standing on the other side, but they had no problem refusing entry into a building.

Pausing outside the door to the Emmerichs’ apartment, Mart took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. He wanted the family’s cooperation for his story. Figuring it was now or never, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

He heard voices on the other side and the sound of footsteps approaching. Within seconds, the door swung open. Mart’s breath caught in his throat as he stared into the violet eyes of Diana Lynch.

Startled, he stammered, “Di! What are you doing here?”

If the sight of Mart standing on the other side of the door surprised Diana, her visage gave nothing away. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’m here to see Max Emmerich. According to my information, this is his grandfather’s apartment and he lives here.”  In his mind, all he heard were the neighbor’s words – Max and his girlfriend – he stiffened involuntarily. Was Diana Max’s girlfriend?

Diana remained silent. Just as it seemed she was about to speak, a tall blond man appeared at her elbow. “Diana, who is at the door?” Peering around Diana, he smiled at Mart.  “Bonjour, monsieur. May I help you?”

“Are you Max Emmerich?” The tall blond acknowledged Mart’s question with a nod and slightly puzzled smile, obviously not recognizing the stranger at his door. “My name is Mart Belden and I’m working on a story for National Geographic about the Rembrandt recently acquired by the Louvre.” Watching Max carefully, Mart thought he detected a flicker of apprehension in the young man’s eyes. “According to my sources, you recently approached authorities at the museum claiming that the painting is a forgery. I was hoping to interview you regarding your knowledge of the history of this painting.”

“Mart Belden! Don’t you dare try to write some sensationalized story about Max or his family! There are many extenuating circumstances to this story that you can’t possibly know.” Her voice softened and her eyes pleaded with his. “As an old friend, I’m asking you to drop this, Mart. This isn’t the story you think it is.”

Before Mart could react, Max interrupted, “You are a friend of Diana’s? Excellent! Any friend of Diana’s is a friend of mine. Won’t you please come in?”

Mart didn’t miss the look the look Diana threw Max, and he suppressed a smile. Max ushered him into the parlor and urged him to have a seat. Mart chose an antique-looking wingback chair, while Diana and Max settled on a settee directly across from him. Focusing his attention on Max, Mart said, “Monsieur Emmerich, I am not planning to write a story that will cast your family in a bad light. I understand that it is possible that you know the location of the original painting. My only goal is to inform the public about the story behind the painting. I do not want to write a dramatized story that exaggerates the truth.” He shot a reproving look at Diana as he made his final statement.

“Please, you must call me Max. I would like to help you with your story, Mart – may I call you Mart?” At Mart’s nod of consent, Max continued, “But I am afraid that there’s not much I can tell you. It is true that the painting at the Louvre is a fake, but I do not know where the real one is. My grandfather only recently told me the story of the painting. Monsieur Fournier is hopeful that my grandfather might be able to point us in the right direction to find the original. Diana is…”

Diana interrupted smoothly, “Max, why don’t you go get some drinks for us all? It is a long story, and that will give Mart and me a few minutes to catch up. It’s been a long time.”

“But of course! Where are my manners?” Max jumped up and went off in search of refreshments.

“Mart, really, I’m asking you to drop this story. Any publicity about the fact that the painting currently at the museum is not authentic could hamper the chances of finding the original.”

“Di, this is an incredible story! I can’t drop it. You and Max just said that the museum is going to attempt to find the original. I can promise not to print anything about it until the original is found in exchange for exclusive rights to the story.”

“What if we refuse? Will you publicize the fact that the Rembrandt obtained by the Louvre is a copy?”

“That wouldn’t be very positive press for the Louvre, would it? A world famous museum is fooled by a counterfeit painting? How could the public possibly trust that anything the museum acquired was authentic?” Mart taunted Diana, hurt that she could possibly have such a low opinion of him.

“The original might never be found. What will you do then?”

“If the investigation turns up the Real McCoy, I get the exclusive rights to the story. If it isn’t found, I write an article praising the efforts of the museum to authenticate the painting once they became suspicious as to its origins.”  He gave Diana a hard look. “And I want to be a part of the investigation.”

“Mart, be serious. I’m sure I can get Jean-Luc to agree to give you an exclusive, but there’s no way you can be part of the search. It’s out of the question.”

“I don’t think that’s your call, Di. I’ll speak to Monsieur Fournier about it myself. I’m sure I can convince him that it will make for a fascinating article.”

“Actually, it is my call. Jean-Luc has asked for my assistance in this investigation. I have the expertise to authenticate any painting turned up during the investigation. Max and I will conduct the initial leg and if we don’t have any luck, or if we run into a brick wall, then the professionals will take over.”

Mart laughed, “Well, I guess you have some investigative experience thanks to all the messes Trixie got us involved in over the years.”

Diana did not look amused, but she swallowed whatever retort she was about to make as Max returned with a tray containing pots of tea and coffee and a plate of pastries. He smiled apologetically at Mart. “I know it is past the breakfast hour, but I thought the pastries might be welcome.”

“It’s never a bad time for pastries!” Mart declared as he helped himself to a pastry and a cup of coffee.

Diana poured tea for herself and Max. “As I was saying, Mart, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be involved in the investigation. Max and I can handle the initial stages of the search and we can fill you in.”

“I can help, Diana. I was there for all of Trixie’s mysteries, too. Besides, I elicit information for a living. I won’t be in the way and I might actually be of help.”

“You are Trixie’s brother? Diana has told me so much about your adventures as teenagers.” Turning to Diana, he continued, “I agree with your friend. He does know much about obtaining information. He found me, after all.”

“Oh, fine,” Diana huffed. “If Jean-Luc agrees, you can help. I’ll go call him now.” Diana gave in, albeit not very gracefully.

She was not gone long. “I guess exclusivity was not a problem, was it? Jean-Luc said he had already promised it to you yesterday when you met with him. And since you also promised him that you wouldn’t reveal what you know about the painting, I didn’t need to worry what you were planning to write, did I? You let me worry for nothing.” She stared at Mart accusingly. “You impressed Jean-Luc by finding Max after he refused to give you any names. He agreed to let you assist with the hunt – at least in a limited role.”

Mart resisted the urge to smile. “Now that that is decided, why don’t you fill me in on what you have uncovered?” he requested, settling comfortably in the chair.

Max complied and once again repeated the story as told to him by his grandfather. As Max related the story, Mart diligently took notes. When Max had finished, he asked the million-dollar question, “Your grandfather didn’t tell you where the original painting is?”

“No, Grandfather was extremely upset when he read about the grand exhibit planned by the Louvre. He told me the story I shared with you. He was very agitated and troubled. He told me he did not feel well enough to continue. He implored me to meet with Jean-Luc right away and said he would finish the story another time. Unfortunately, grandfather suffered a massive stroke before he was able to give me the conclusion. Now he is strong enough to return home, but the stroke has affected his ability to communicate. We have been unsuccessful in getting more information from him.”

“Do you think he is well enough for us to talk to him now? I don’t mean to be pushy, and certainly I don’t want to risk causing him more distress, but the sooner we get started, the better.” Mart directed his question to Max. “If you feel that he needs more time to recover, I completely understand and will respect your decision.” Mart felt a warm glow when the harsh line of Diana’s jaw softened, and she flashed him a genuine smile of appreciation.

“I agree that we need to start as soon as we can. I will consult with Grandfather’s nurse and if he is awake, I will try to speak with him and see if he is up to it.”

Max went to speak with the nurse, leaving Diana and Mart alone once more.

“Mart, it is good to see you again. Trixie told me you were supposed to be home this past Christmas. I hoped to see you then, but she said you got a last minute assignment.”

“Yes, I had to go to Japan for an assignment at the last minute. I didn’t know you were home for Christmas, though.”

“Mother swore she would disown me if I didn’t make it home this year. I missed the last two because of work. It was very nice to be home. I forget how much I love Sleepyside until I go home.”

They made polite conversation, asking about one another’s families while waiting for Max’s return. Mart couldn’t help but think how nice it was to sit and just talk with Di again. Seeing her again after all this time made him realize that despite what his head kept telling him, his heart wasn’t over her, not by a long shot. Suddenly he couldn’t imagine why he had ever thought there could be another woman for him. He was smiling at one of her comments when Max strode in, a smile on his face.

“Grandfather is awake, and seems eager to try and help us. His verbal communication is very garbled, but he still has use of his limbs. Follow me, and we will see what we can find out.”

Mart and Diana followed him down the hallway to a bedroom. Propped up against several pillows, Klaus Emmerich presented the image of a previously robust man now fragile from age and infirmity. His hands were folded together over the blanket. A silver ring set with a large onyx surrounded by many small diamonds covered the pinky finger on his left hand almost to his knuckle. He gazed at the young people through clear blue eyes that still possessed a high amount of intelligence. In contrast to the sharpness of his eyes, one side of his mouth drooped slightly, physical evidence of this stroke. His paper-thin skin did nothing to hide the many age spots on his face and hands.

Max spoke softly, “Grandfather, you remember Diana, of course. She came to visit you in the hospital. This is an old friend of hers, Mart Belden. He has offered to help us.”

Diana approached Klaus and gently took his hand in hers. “We will start by asking you some yes or no questions. You can nod, or just squeeze my hand if the answer is yes. If you begin to tire, let us know and we can stop. We do not want to put further stress on your health. Will that be all right with you?”

Klaus nodded his head and Diana began, “Do you know where the original painting is?” Again Klaus nodded his head and Mart felt his heartbeat accelerate slightly. If Klaus knew the location of the painting, it should be a simple matter to find it.

“Do you have it?”

Klaus nodded again.

“Is it in this house?”

Klaus shook his head.

“You have it, but it is not in the house? Do you have it in storage?”

Klaus nodded his head and tried to speak, but the words were unintelligible. Clearly frustrated by his inability to speak, he fisted his free hand and pounded it on the mattress. Diana soothed him, “Don’t worry. We’ll get there. You’re doing a great job.”

Suddenly Klaus brightened and he pulled his hand from Diana’s. Klaus used his hand to make writing motions. “You want paper?” Diana queried.

Klaus shook his head and again mimed writing. Diana looked helplessly at Max. “I don’t know what he means,” Max shrugged in frustration.

Klaus again banged his fisted hand into the mattress and tried to speak, but could only make guttural sounds. For the third time, he imitated writing and then he pointed at Max. Mart looked at him thoughtfully. He noticed that Klaus directed his eyes toward a small bedside table as he pretended to write.

“Do you want to give us something that you wrote, Herr Emmerich?” Mart posed the question.

Klaus nodded. Max smacked himself in the forehead. “Of course, Grandfather has long been in the habit of writing in a journal each evening.” Max reached into the bedside table and pulled out a leather-bound book. He handed it to his grandfather. Klaus shook his head and pointed to the doorway.

“His old journals are kept in his office. I will get them.” Max returned in short order carrying several similar leather-bound journals. He laid them on the bed next to his grandfather. The elderly gentleman picked up one, but had trouble opening the cover. Diana assisted him, and he shook his head when he looked at the inside cover. Diana opened several more for him, but Klaus rejected each of them. After the sixth one, Klaus finally nodded when Diana opened the cover. He handed the journal to Max and tried to speak. Most of what he said sounded like nonsense, but two words were clear: “answer there”.

In the parlor, Max opened the journal and looked on the inside cover. Startled, he looked up, “This journal is dated the same year I was born. There are letters here on the cover, but I don’t understand them.”

He passed the journal to Diana, who looked inside. Her brow creased in puzzlement. “It appears to be some kind of code, but I don’t know how to decipher it.”

Mart crossed over to the settee and read over Diana’s shoulder. In very precise lettering along the bottom edge of the journal a series of letters had been written.

RPIRX     WFPUR     TRIBB     DKULR      FIRDW     MQICA       LYXXX

He looked at Max. “Does that mean anything to you?” Max shook his head bewildered. “Maybe that’s not what your grandfather wanted us to find. Maybe there’s something else in the journal.”

“I think you might be correct. I will start right away to see if there is anything of consequence in Grandfather’s journal.”

Just then the housekeeper entered the room. “Pardon me, but there is a phone call for Mademoiselle Lynch.”

Diana excused herself to take the call. When she returned, she wore an inscrutable expression. Mart wondered when he had lost the ability to easily read her expressions.

“That was Jean-Luc. There is a new development. A young lady contacted him claiming that her grandmother is the artist who painted the forgery. He had set up a meeting for us tomorrow in his office.”

“What time?”

“You don’t need to be there, Mart. Max and I can handle it.”

“I insist. Jean-Luc agreed that I am part of this investigation; I should be there.”

“Fine. It’s at four o’clock.”

“I’ll be there with bells on,” Mart smiled. “I don’t want to outstay my welcome and I know Max wants to have a chance to read his grandfather’s journal, so I think it’s time for me to return to my temporary abode for the evening. Diana, may I escort you to your hotel?”

“No, thank you, Mart. I’m staying here.” Mart swallowed hard and willed his face to maintain a pleasant uninterested expression.  By Di and Max’s normal behavior, he concluded that he had succeeded.   Inside however, his guts were twisting into knots and his heart pounded as if trying to flee his chest. 

“Diana and I will read Grandfather’s journal tonight and perhaps we will have happy news on the morrow.”

Mart quickly said his goodbyes and returned to his hotel, fuming in stunned silence the entire way back. What reason could Diana possibly have for staying at the Emmerichs’? Mart’s heart sank as he reached the most obvious conclusion. She had moved on and Diana was, in fact, Max’s girlfriend.