They passed through the security point and into a room that intersected at three points. Directly in front of them, to the left and to the right, were walls made of thick steel. Digital readouts over the doors displayed the temperature of the interior, the time, and the date. They also showed the humidity levels, which varied from room to room.
Koenig struggled to keep quiet, instead playing the part of a mute, marveling at the security and technology.
Adriana’s instincts were to analyze the surroundings. Each storage room was essentially a giant steel box, thirty feet long and fifteen feet wide. From her assessment, the builders must have dug into the earth, constructed the steel rooms, and then poured slabs of concrete around them.
Immelman noticed her interest and filled in the gaps of her curiosity. “The steel is half a meter thick. The concrete surrounding it is two meters thick. Our vaults are on the level just below with similar safety precautions. Plus, this entire area is surrounded by rock. If someone tried to dig their way in, it would take far too long. But just in case, these box rooms are built with motion sensors that will detect unnatural vibrations and signal our security teams.”
“Does that happen often? You know, with earthquakes and such?”
He shook his head slowly. “No, we accounted for those situations with the design. Immelman pointed at the room to the left. Your father’s box, Mr. Hummels, is in that room. And here is your key. The box number is on the key.” He walked over to the door and entered a code on a keypad. Several loud clicks came from within, and a second later, the door opened. He passed off the key to Hummels and took a step back to allow the visitors a few minutes on their own.
Adriana knew about sensors like those that Immelman mentioned. This bank had gone all out to protect all of its precious assets, as well it should.
Hummels led the way into the vault, searching the numbers on the boxes on the right since they seemed to be in the vicinity of his number. The first rows and columns were small, about the size of a standard post office box. They wouldn’t hold much more than a few stacks of cash or maybe some jewelry the owner wanted to keep safe. In the middle of the walls, the boxes were much bigger, around two feet wide. It was here that Hummels found the box with the matching number to his key. He gave a questioning glance back to Adriana, and she replied with a single nod.
He took a deep breath and pushed the key into the slot. Hummels waited a moment and turned it. The drawer unlocked, and he pulled it out inch by inch. Everyone in the room held their collective breath until the box was all the way out. It was long enough to hold a baseball bat.
The three stared into the box and let out a sigh. It was empty.
Adriana's expression gave nothing away. She pursed her lips and nodded. “Close it,” she said in a hushed tone.
Hummels blinked rapidly, still gazing into the vacant box. Slowly, he pushed it back into the wall and locked it again. They exited the room, Hummels and Koenig in disbelief.
“Thank you for your time,” Hummels said, passing the key back to the banker. “I appreciate it.”
Immelman nodded. “A pleasure, sir. Though, I am sorry that you were unable to find what you were looking for.”
Downtrodden, Hummels gave a grateful nod and slouched toward the door.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Immelman interrupted the forlorn convoy, “what was it exactly that you were hoping was in there?”
Hummels turned around, surprised at the question. He started to answer, but Adriana cut him off. “Just some old medals he thought his father put in there from the war. We were interested to see them. From the stories we heard, he saved many lives during the war.”
“Ah,” Immelman nodded, accepting the lie. “Well, I apologize we were unable to help you in your quest.”
She thanked him and took Hummels by the arm, leading him out the door to the elevator. They waited inside while Immelman closed the security doors and reset all the locks.
The ride back up was even quieter, if that was possible. A pall hung in the air until they reached the busy noise of the bank lobby.
“This is the main floor,” Immelman said when the doors opened. “Unless you have any other requests of me, I bid you good day.”
The three stepped off the elevator and into the lobby. The doors closed behind them. Business had picked up in the later part of the lunch hour. The lines at the tellers were each six or seven people deep, a fact that baffled Adriana in an age where online banking had made trips to a physical location almost unnecessary.
Koenig looked at Adriana and then over to Hummels then back to Adriana. “You wanted me to play the stupid cousin?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Adriana defended. She crossed her arms. “We need to find a place to stay for the night.”
Hummels frowned, confused. “I don’t understand. Shouldn’t we take the next train back to Innsbruck?”
Her eyes darted from one corner to the next, analyzing cameras, faces, and the actions people were taking. “Yes, we should. Let’s head back to the train station and find out when the next one is leaving.”
She started for the door, and after a few confounded seconds, the two men followed. Once they were outside and on the sidewalk, she turned right and walked at a hard pace toward a street-side cafe.
“Wait! Where are you going?” Hummels sounded beleaguered and tired. Apparently, he had built it up in his mind that they would find the missing painting in the safety deposit box. “Our car is parked around the corner in that direction.” He pointed back to the left, beyond the front of the bank.
Adriana halted and spun around. “I know where the car is, but I needed to get clear of the bank and anyone else we don’t know.”
A woman in a yellow dress walked by with three shopping bags from some local retailers; she barely paid them any notice.
“You can go back to Innsbruck if you want,” Adriana continued. “But I’m staying here.”
“Why would you stay here?” Hummels asked. “It’s a dead end. You heard the banker say it himself. The box is empty. You saw it with your own eyes. What further proof do you need?”
Koenig agreed. “He makes a good point. There is nothing here for us. Perhaps this is one of those treasures that will be lost to antiquity forever.”
Her jaw set, and she spoke with a stern tone. “I don’t think so. Immelman was lying to us.”
Hummels’s eyebrows closed together. “What do you mean, lying to us? Why would he lie to us?”
“How long has he been at that bank? Twenty years? More?”
“At least. His father worked there.”
“Exactly. Which means he might have been there when your father did business with them.”
Koenig shook his head, still confused. “I don’t understand. What are you trying to say, that Immelman knows what happened to the painting?”
Adriana nodded slowly. “I’m saying he stole it.”
Hummels let out a short laugh. “Stole it? Swiss bankers don’t steal things from their clients. They are renowned throughout the world as being extremely trustworthy.”
“Sure. And that same group also helped many American millionaires hide their money illegally for a long time so they could avoid taxation. They aren’t always honest, Friedrich.” Her eyes flamed with righteous passion. “Think about it, a dead customer, hasn’t been around for years, what’s to stop him from taking a look inside the box? Or what if he already knew what was in there? I’d bet he did. And when your father was gone, he waited around for a while until he realized no one would come for it.”
Exasperated, Hummels threw up his hands. “And just how did you come to this outlandish conclusion?”