‘Well, that narrows it down,’ Jones cracked.
Ulster glanced up at them to explain. ‘It has the structure of a diary – dozens of dated entries over a period of two or three years – yet it’s lacking personal reflection of any kind. Instead, it’s filled with a series of clinical observations, as if he was systematically searching for something in the surrounding hills. Unfortunately, I don’t know what he was looking for because most of his entries appear to be written in code.’
Jones took a guess. ‘Maybe he was looking for Hogzilla. I bet that fucker was alive back then. Probably got that big by eating Nazis.’
Payne rolled his eyes. ‘Why do you say stuff like that?’
Jones shrugged. ‘I get bored easily. Plus, I like pissing you off.’
‘Well, it’s working.’
He grinned. ‘I can tell.’
Payne took a deep breath, trying to remember why Jones was his best friend. At that particular moment, nothing came to mind. ‘If you’re that bored, why don’t you go and open the next crate? The sooner we know what we’re dealing with, the better.’
‘But do so carefully. There’s no telling what’s in here,’ Ulster pleaded.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,’ Jones assured him as he walked towards the back corner. ‘And unlike some people I know, I won’t have to take off my shirt to use a crowbar.’
Payne glanced at Kaiser. ‘Please do me a favour and help him out. The only physical labour he’s performed all year involved Internet porn and a box of tissues.’
‘I heard that,’ Jones yelled from the back of the room.
Fighting a smile, Payne apologized to Ulster. ‘Anyway, what were you saying?’
‘If you give me a while, I might be able to put the code into some kind of context based on the other documents in this crate. But for all I know, it might be a total waste of time. He could have been charting Nazi patrols or planning a future escape.’
‘It’s not a waste of time.’
‘I meant in terms of finding additional treasure.’
‘Listen,’ Payne said as he crouched next to Ulster, ‘as far as I’m concerned, protecting your family name is the number-one priority here. Do whatever you need to do. If that means digging through this crate and looking for information, you have my blessing.’
Ulster stared at the journal in his hands. For as long as he could remember, he had hoped to discover a detailed account of his grandfather’s exploits during World War Two. Over the years, he had heard many rumours from secondary sources, but nothing had been supported by fact. Now, after all this time, he might have found the mother lode. As far as his family was concerned, the book in his hand was far more valuable than a crate filled with van Goghs.
‘Maybe for a little while,’ Ulster said sheepishly. ‘But please let me know if you need my assistance. I’ll be happy to answer any questions, particularly involving my grandfather.’
‘Jon,’ Jones called from the back of the room.
Payne signalled for him to wait. He would be there shortly. ‘The same goes for you. If you need anything, just let me know. Remember, we’re here for you, not for the treasure.’
‘Jon,’ Jones called a little bit louder, ‘you should see this.’
Payne growled in frustration. ‘In a minute. I’m talking to Petr.’
Ulster shooed him away. ‘Go! Tend to David. He needs you more than I. For the time being, I have everything I need: a box of books and my grandfather’s journal. I couldn’t be happier.’
Payne smiled, glad that everything had worked out for Ulster. He knew how much time and energy Ulster had put into the Archives and realized how quickly it would have fallen apart if his grandfather had conspired with the Nazis. Thankfully, that did not seem to be the case. Now Payne could shift his focus to the rest of the crates. If, as they expected, the crates were filled with heirlooms that had been hidden from the Nazis, Payne would love nothing more than to return them to the rightful owners. That simple act would make his entire year.
‘Jon!’ Jones yelled. ‘You need to see this now.’
Still annoyed by Jones’s earlier behaviour, Payne was tempted to make him wait another few minutes out of spite, but the urgency in his friend’s voice told him it was important.
‘What’s wrong?’ Payne grumbled.
Jones said nothing. He simply handed the lid that had been pried off the third crate to Payne, who immediately recognized that it was different. Unlike the first two, the underbelly of this lid did not have the Ulster family crest. Instead, the ancient wood had been branded with an elaborate black swan. Its wings spread wide, its neck twisted to the side as if it was looking for a predator that might be gaining on it.
Kaiser whispered. ‘Remember what Petr said. The Nazis marked everything. Admittedly, I’ve never seen this symbol before, but what if this was one of theirs?’
Payne glanced over his shoulder, paranoid. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin Ulster’s mood, unless it was completely necessary. ‘What if it was? For all we know, Conrad found one of their crates and used it to store his belongings. Remember, a war was going on. Supplies were in high demand. People used everything they could get their hands on.’
‘Trust me, it’s not that simple,’ Jones assured him.
‘It’s not? How can you be so sure?’
Jones grimaced and pointed towards the crate. ‘Go see for yourself.’
16
Although his journey was a short one, every step that Payne took was filled with dread, as if he were a convicted felon heading towards the gallows. Time seemed to slow as he approached the crate, giving him a chance to envision all the horrendous possibilities that might be inside. He realized the contents had spooked Jones and Kaiser, two men who didn’t spook easily.
Still, he hadn’t been expecting anything like this.
The crate was packed with several rows of gold bars that glowed like the legendary city of El Dorado, thanks to the bright light of the halogen lamps. Each bar weighed 5,000 grams (approximately 11 pounds) and had been carefully stamped with the elaborate swan symbol that had been branded onto the lid. Payne had no idea what or whom the swan represented, but it was pretty obvious that money hadn’t been a problem – at least until the gold had disappeared.
‘Shit,’ Payne mumbled under his breath. ‘This isn’t good.’
‘No, it’s not,’ Jones whispered. ‘Not good at all.’
During their time in the MANIACs, they had discovered thirty crates of gold bars in a bunker outside Baghdad. The treasure, plundered from a royal palace, had been hidden by an Iraqi diplomat who had tried, in vain, to smuggle it across the border. Realizing the roads were patrolled by American troops, he had buried the cache in the desert, planning to return a few years later after tensions had calmed. But much to the diplomat’s chagrin, Payne and Jones had uncovered the bunker before the Iraqi had a chance to claim his plunder.
In retrospect, it was the first treasure the duo had ever found.
Payne grabbed one of the bars from the crate. It felt like a brick in his hand. Using his body to shield it from Ulster, he flipped it over and searched for additional markings but saw none. ‘What do you know about Nazi gold?’
Jones whispered, ‘Do you want facts or myths?’
‘Both.’
‘In simple terms, Nazi Germany financed its war effort by looting its victims. Most of the assets were stored in regional depositories that were heavily guarded. When the Nazis needed a large influx of currency, they cashed in the gold at dozens of financial institutions in Europe – including the Vatican Bank and the Franciscan Order. That is, if you believe the civil suits filed by Holocaust survivors.’ Jones made sure Ulster wasn’t listening before he continued. ‘Now this is where things get complicated. After the war, most of these accounts miraculously disappeared. I’m talking here today, gone tomorrow. Some people believe the gold was stolen by the upper class and hidden in vaults, much like the gold we found in Iraq. Others speculate that only the paperwork was destroyed, that the depositories themselves are still waiting to be found. Personally, I’m not sure what to believe. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a combination of the two. Some gold was stolen, and the rest got lost in the shuffle.’