Page 14 of Hell to Pay
“Yes,” I said. “This one is a Dresdner tradition and was always my favorite. A layer of yellow cake, a layer of cheesecake, made with the Quark you were so dismissive of, and a layer of custard. The chocolate glaze isn’t necessarily traditional, but you must admit, it adds a certain something. Unfortunately or fortunately, I can’t eat more than a few bitesof rich dishes like this these days, but I did want to taste it again.”
“So did you just, like, eat cake all the time when you lived here?” Ben asked. “When you were a kid? Because I would.”
I smiled. “No. It was wartime, remember. There was rationing, and a great deal of scarcity.”
“See,” Ashleigh said eagerly, “that’s exactly what I want to know. The whole story.”
“The whole story,” I said, “isn’t as glamorous as you think. Much of it is very distressing. Very sad.”
“But don’t you want people to know about it?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, feeling really rather tired by now. “Is there anything new to add? I’ll decide later. Tomorrow, perhaps. And no, I don’t regret selling the necklace, though it was my favorite. I had no choice, and I was glad enough to have something to sell. Getting the tiara back will be enough. If we can.”
“For now,” Alix said, “I’d say we need to go step by step. We scoped the place out. Fine, it’s all restored, that’s great, I saw my heritage. My mind is officially blown, too. Now we talk to the museum curator or whoever, the person in charge, tell them the story, and see what they say, right? That’s the clear next step. I hope the tiaraisstill hidden and wasn’t taken in that burglary. That would be too ironic, though. I hope.”
“Actually,” Ashleigh said, “there’s another step that’s probably more important. I’ve been looking it up, and there’s an … a government department, an agency, whatever, specifically for getting back stolen treasures. The Center for Lost Cultural Artifacts. That’s their whole job, helping people do that, including people living outside of Germany. And lots of people don’t even know where their artifacts ended up. You know exactly, so see how easy?”
“If it’s still there,” I said. “That office, I understand, is set up particularly for things the Nazis stole from Jews, but I’m?—”
“No,” she said eagerly, “there’s another whole group for things taken by the Soviets during the occupation, or by the government of the DDR. What’s the DDR?”
Really, the things young people don’t know anymore. Nearly rivaling the things I don’t understand—for example, how to research the recovery process for stolen property while carrying on a conversation and eating lunch. “The Deutsche Demokratische Republik,” I said. “The German Democratic Republic. East Germany.”
“Wait,” Alix said. “How were they the democratic ones? Weren’t they Communist?”
“Because they were for the people,” I said. “Working for the benefit of the working man, and the sole arbiter of social progress. Or so they said. Expropriation of private property in favor of the state was common, which is why there’s an agency now for getting things back. After all, from their point of view, why should everything belong to bloodsucking land-owning aristocrats with their palaces full of gold and precious gems and their various random castles, all originally paid for by taxes on their subjects?”
“Possibly a fair point,” Sebastian said.
“Very,” I said. “And why I’m concentrating on the tiara.”
“But it wasyours,”Ben said. “All of that. The museum, the palace, that fortress thing, the other palace with the bird’s nests … it was all yours! Don’t you want it back?”
“It wasn’t really mine,” I tried to explain. “It belonged to the crown, not to my father personally, and it no doubt belongs to the state now. Augustus II collected and housed all those treasures partly for the people to enjoy, as we saw today. The Emerald Parure, though, was my mother’s personal possession and never the property of the Kingdom of Saxony, so that is rightfully mine. What would I possibly do with it the rest? While I’m obviously extremely well-preserved, Iamninety-four years old, and my house is not large. If I displayedthe Royal Household at Delhi on my dining-room table, I wouldn’t have anywhere to eat. I’d also need a bigger table. And I really have very little use these days for ceremonial swords covered in diamonds.”
“Well, you could live here,” Ashleigh said. “In the palace.”
“Oh, that would be lonely,” I said. “And sad. And ridiculous.”
“Your family could live there too,” Ashleigh persisted. “That place has to have hundreds of rooms. You could still let the state have the museum and everything—which would mean they’d do the upkeep, right?—and you could live in the part that doesn’t get toured. Boom. Done. They hardly took us through any of the rooms. We didn’t even get off the ground floor!”
I laughed. “No, thank you. I don’t think Alix much wants to live in a German palace, now that she and Sebastian and Ben have that lovely home in Portland, and as for Sebastian, where would he do his … his kicking? The ballroomisvery large, but the chandeliers …”
“Hey,” Sebastian said, “I can aim.” He was grinning, and as calm as he’d been throughout the day. Suddenly, I saw Joe sitting there across from me, smiling, making a joke, making life easier. It rocked me. I really was too tired, and the thought of contacting a government agency, of trying to explain, and then the tiara might not even be there after all … Had this all been a fool’s errand?
“Huh?” Ashleigh said. “What kicking?”
“Oh, he plays for the NFL,” Alix said. “The Portland Devils. Offseason now. That’s why we could come. OK, so we contact this department …”
“I texted you the details,” Ashleigh said, after a moment or two blinking at Sebastian. To be fair, he was worth looking at. Really a most attractive man. She went on, “They can put you in touch with experts who can help you establish provenanceand all that. That’s what it’s called, I found out. Provenance. The proof the thing is yours, and tracing the hands it’s gone through. It’s probably expensive, though, getting all that research done. You could sell a diamond, of course, but you don’thavea diamond. Yet. I don’t suppose they work on consignment.”
“Or,” Sebastian said, “we could just hire this person and pay with regular dollars instead of diamonds. Much simpler.”
“Oh, right,” Ashleigh said. “I guess you’re rich, with the NFL and staying at this hotel and all. You’d think it would be the guy who was marrying the princess for money, but nope!”
“Excuse me?” Alix said.
“Oh, sorry,” Ashleigh said. “I mean, I’m sure it’s true love and everything.”
