Page 99 of Once a Hero

“This is where you’ll have tea with Molly.”

Slowly, Beatrice got out of bed. Her bare feet dangled over mattress. “Help me.”

“You have fifteen minutes to get ready or the tea will be lukewarm by the time you show up.”

“Help me,” Beatrice tried again.

“Help you to do what? To change your clothes? Comb your hair?” Her voice was calm.

“Help me get out of here.” Beatrice slid off the bed and landed on her feet.

Immediately, the woman pulled out a small pistol.

Beatrice tried not to freak out. “I’m going to brush my teeth, take a shower, and put on some clean clothes. Is that okay?”

“Fifteen minutes.” She backed away slowly to the door. She left without another word.

It took her longer than fifteen minutes to shampoo her hair three times to get the smell of grease off. Then she took her time drying her hair with a small hair dryer they had provided.

By the time Beatrice came out of the bathroom in a towel, Miss Pistol was sitting in an armchair waiting for her.

“Please leave. I need to change,” Beatrice snapped.

“You’re late.”

“It’s better to be clean than early. Tell Molly that.” She waited for Miss Pistol to leave.

Beatrice took her time changing into her clothes. There was no lotion anywhere in the room. She reminded herself to ask for lotion and an extra towel. She’d rather air-dry her hair if possible.

She turned the knob, but the door was locked.

The knob was another thing. Along with the modern bathroom, they told Beatrice that this building had not been restored to its original state. Not that it mattered to her.

She just wanted to go home.

She knocked on the door.

Miss Pistol opened it from the other side.

The hallway and walls were all made of stone. They were quite impressive.

“Is this where Molly has been staying all this time we couldn’t find her?” Beatrice asked as she was escorted by Miss Pistol and two armed guards down the hallway to tea with the queen of death.

“This is a rental,” Miss Pistol said.

“Thank you for the information.”

Miss Pistol pursed her lips. Perhaps she had spoken too much.

A rental castle. Interesting.

Beatrice wondered if it had modern conveniences like a cell tower nearby. She would need a phone to call home or for help. Did 911 work in this part of the world? She had never been to Poland in her life. Most of her searches for World War II artifacts were in Germany and France, though every now and then she expanded her location.

Poland had been decimated in World War II, with the country losing its name and identity. Destroyed beyond recognition.

Perhaps that was the irony of it. With few people looking this way, who was to say that the Amber Room looters had not decided to hide the remaining panels in plain sight?

Then again, many believed the Amber Room had been destroyed in Königsberg during the war. If any panels or pieces of it remained, they would be highly sought after on the black market. Perhaps they might never be found or seen again.

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