Shadows of Yesterday

Chapter 23

When they left Aaron Peeters’ apartment, Major Ziegler released the two soldiers who had supported him. As they drove away on their motorcycle, he turned to Jacob Sternberg. “Would the diamonds fit in the trunk of a car?” he asked.

“They would fit in a satchel or a small duffel bag,” Sternberg replied. “They’re valuable for their quality, not the quantity.”

“But Peeters said the woman carried two satchels,” Ziegler said.

“Maybe her drill was in the smaller bag, sir,” Bayer suggested. "And whatever else she needed to breach the vault.”

Ziegler paused by the car. “Could Peeters have forgotten to close the vault?”

“No, he’s very conscientious,” Sternberg said.

“How about the blonde woman?” Ziegler asked. “Do you know who she was, maybe a competitor or former employee?”

“No, I don’t,” Sternberg replied. “Aaron would have recognized her if she was anyone we knew.”

Ziegler pondered his next move. After a moment, he turned to Bayer. “We need to find that car.”

“There are thousands of Minervas in Belgium, sir,” Bayer said. “And probably hundreds just in Antwerp.”

“But we’re not looking for a Minerva. We’re looking for a green Minerva, four years old, with the passenger side fender dented and scratched, missing a taillight.”

“With the back riddled by bullets,” Bayer added.

Ziegler turned to Sternberg. “I’m done with you, Herr Sternberg. You can go. You’re very fortunate. I’ve decided not to hurt you.”

They climbed in the car, leaving a stunned Jacob Sternberg standing on the pavement, wide-eyed and trembling.

Bayer started the engine and pulled away from the curb. “We can check government offices,” he suggested, referring to the green Minerva.

Ziegler looked out the window as they drove back to headquarters, a hotel the Germans had commandeered along the river. “We have to hurry. She gets farther away each hour that passes.”

“We can also contact the police,” Bayer said. “Maybe there’s a record of the car accident that caused the fender damage.”

“But that might take days,” Ziegler mumbled. “We only have hours.”

“If you were the thief, what would you do, sir?” Bayer asked.

Ziegler thought for a moment. “We controlled most of the city when the robbery occurred. Escape would have been difficult.”

“She could have taken advantage of the chaos.”

“Or she might have remained in Antwerp, thinking we might search elsewhere.”

“But someone is waiting for the diamonds,” Bayer countered. “Either the Allies or a secret buyer. She had to flee to deliver them.”

Ziegler was quiet for a moment. “Yes, the most likely scenario, I agree. If she’s a thief, she makes delivery to get paid. If she’s a spy, someone waits for the diamonds.”

“Maybe the business card I found will lead us in the right direction,” Bayer said.

Ziegler removed it from his pocket. “All Things Napoleon,” he said, reading the card. He flipped it over. “Jacques Dufort. And an address for the port.”

“She couldn’t have escaped by boat. We had already captured the port.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Ziegler mused. “Maybe this is unrelated trash, dropped by a janitor.”

Bayer shrugged. “We may never know.”

“I’ll keep the card,” he mumbled. “We’ll find out who this Jacques Dufort is as soon as the phone lines are operating. Maybe he is the thief’s contact.”

“The port address suggests a delivery location,” Bayer offered. “Maybe she didn’t have to flee to make delivery. Someone may have waited right here in Antwerp.”

Ziegler was quiet. His chances of catching the woman were dwindling. “We’ll stop at the port on our way back to headquarters. Just to ask a few questions. But the car, and her vague description, are the only clues we have.”

“Do you think this woman knew anyone at the exchange?”

“Not unless it’s one of the employees who had already fled the city,” Ziegler said. “Those we questioned weren’t lying.”

Bayer nodded. “They were terrified. None seemed like accomplices to a spy or thief—not the typical profile.”

“The woman acted strangely, though,” Ziegler mumbled. “Claudette Maes. She kept glancing toward her bedroom. We probably should have searched her apartment.”

“Do you think she was hiding something?”

Ziegler sighed. “I’m not sure. Something wasn’t right.”

“We can always go back and question her.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Ziegler said, gazing out the window.

“Especially if she acted suspiciously. Something may have been hidden in her bedroom.”

“We’ll return if we don’t find the car,” Ziegler said. “And I won’t be as kind the next time. Maybe I’ll take her cat and see what she’ll do to get him back.”

Bayer chuckled. “That will make her talk, I’m sure.”

Ziegler paused, thinking of the employees at the exchange. “Sternberg thought he could use the diamonds to buy protection.”

“He lives in a world that no longer exists.”

“But he’s learning quickly,” Ziegler said and then considered the crime scene. “This woman and the dead man still had to get into the vault somehow.”

“Maybe they picked the lock,” Bayer suggested. “Especially if they’re common thieves.”

“For now, that remains a mystery.”

“How will we find her, sir?”

“I’ll issue a radio bulletin for the woman and the car,” Ziegler said. “I suspect she went south if she fled. There was a slender corridor she could have slithered through.”

“She may have hidden among refugees, too. But even if she did escape and made it to Paris, she won’t be safe for long. The city will fall within the week.”

“You and I know that,” Ziegler said, “and so does the German army. But those who oppose us do not. They think we’re fighting the last war, about to construct miles of trenches. They don’t realize that we don’t intend to lose this time.”