Legal Artistry (19 page)

When they stopped to breathe, Gerald took that break to retrieve a towel, cleaning up both of them before returning to what was now the most important thing in the world. “I love you too, Gerald,” Dieter told him as he nestled close. Gerald lost all track of how long they held, petted, and kissed one another—an instant, minutes, hours—time seemed to fly around them, leaving them untouched and unaware.

A muffled ringing sound that stopped and then started again invaded Gerald's bliss. Blinking a few times, he realized it was his phone. Listening to Dieter's half-asleep, snuffly groan, Gerald smiled as he fished around on the floor for his pants before pulling his phone out of the pocket. “Hello,” he answered, hoping to God it was some sort of wrong number.

"Gerald,” the familiar voice said, “this is Harold. I was wondering how you were making out?” Gerald instantly turned toward the bed, thinking,
We weren't, but we could be soon
, but stopped the thought.

"We found some useful information that highlights how weak their case really is. Tomorrow I want to research the process the Austrians used to return looted art to the rightful owners and why that process wasn't followed for Dieter's family."

"Good. I'm glad the trip is turning out to be productive,” Harold said.

"I think it's more than that. We found out that there are seven other paintings in the collection, and they don't appear to have any legal claim on them at all. I got official copies of all the documents; they're even sealed."

"Excellent. Call me or Brian if you need anything, and I mean that. We're here to support you in every way we can."

"Thank you. I'll do that.” Gerald disconnected the call and climbed back in bed. “Dieter, sweetheart, we should eat before we go to sleep.” Gerald heard Dieter snuffle before getting out of bed. They ate a light dinner at a cafe and then returned to the room, going right back to bed.

Arriving at the museum the following morning, Gerald once again gave his name to the same woman at the ticket window before sitting down to wait like they had the morning before, expecting Hanna to get them like she had. Instead, a tall man in a suit approached them. “Herr Young?” Gerald stood up and nodded. “I'm sorry, but you cannot visit the archives today."

"Can you tell me why?” Gerald asked, looking concerned at the very official way the man handled himself.

"The ministry has closed the archives to all but ministry personnel while a thorough review and cataloguing is made of all the contents,” he said, his accent heavy, his tone clipped. “I am sorry, but I have to ask you to allow me to look in your bag to make sure you are not carrying any unauthorized materials.” The man glared at Gerald, and Gerald could feel Dieter shifting around nervously behind him.

"No. You cannot search my bag or either of us. All the materials we removed from the archives yesterday were official copies that we purchased, and I have a receipt. Those copies are ours, and we paid for them, so unless you have something else, we will be leaving.” Gerald stared at the man, and it was obvious he hadn't been expecting that answer.

"I will call the police,” he said.

"You do that, and by the time they get here for such a foolish call, we will be at the American Embassy registering a complaint with our government and yours. I wonder what your superiors will think of an international incident.” Gerald felt his words coming fast and sure, puffing himself up. He could see a small amount of doubt creep into the man's eyes, and Gerald knew it was now or never. “Come on, Dieter.” Gerald stepped around the man and out of the museum with an iron grip on his case, walking fast.

"Where are we going?"

"The nearest subway,” Gerald answered, continuing his fast pace. Once they reached the station, they descended the stairs. “I saw a post office in the large station near the city center, and I hope we can find some sort of business directory. I want to find a Federal Express office so I can send these copies to Harold."

"Why not just keep them with us?” Dieter asked as they ran their passes through the gate and descended to the track.

"I'm probably being paranoid, but Hanna checked our passports. She didn't copy them, but she did have our names, so the sooner these are out of our hands, the better. I don't want to explain them at the airport. Besides, they can't get from us what we don't have.” The train arrived a few minutes later. Exiting the train at the city center station, they didn't find a post office, but there was a DHL Express office. Fishing out his phone, Gerald looked through his phonebook, finding Carolyn's phone number. “She's going to kill me."

"Who?” Dieter asked as Gerald connected the call, but it was already ringing.

"This better be an emergency,” Carolyn said as she answered the phone.

"I know what time it is, and I'm sorry, but I need the firm's DHL Express account number and I need it now. I promise I'll bring you flowers and European chocolates when I get back,” Gerald said, trying to smooth the way. He heard her moving around, probably to get her planner.

"Okay, I have it.” She read off the number, and Gerald wrote it down before thanking her.

"Yeah, yeah. Those better be some damned good chocolates,” she told him before hanging up.

"Let's go in,” Gerald said. “I just got the firm's account number, so no one should be able to trace the package to us."

"Why all this cloak-and-dagger stuff?” Dieter asked as he followed Gerald into the office. “It seems like overkill."

Gerald smiled to reassure him. “It probably is, but these copies could be the key to everything, and I'm not taking any chances. Would you take care of things for me? It'll be easier in German. Here's the account number,” Gerald said, handing Dieter the slip of paper along with a business card. “Have it shipped to Harold's attention."

"Okay,” Dieter said, not sounding convinced, but Gerald's insides were fluttering and his gut was telling him that this was the right thing to do.

Gerald waited inside the door, half listening to the conversation between Dieter and the shipping agent while his mind raced through possibilities. Had someone at the museum found out he was a lawyer? That wasn't particularly likely. Had he and Dieter stumbled onto something that got Hanna's attention? Probably. Gerald could just imagine her reaction when she discovered Mitterval's letter. She'd probably alerted her supervisor, who then raised concerns up the ladder, and the ministry had closed the archives. That didn't bother him as much as the demand that he return the copies he'd paid for.

"They're on their way,” Dieter told him, and Gerald felt much better. “Now, can we relax and stop running around the city like spies?"

"Yes,” Gerald answered as the tension that had been building since the confrontation in the museum suddenly slipped away. “I have a bit of a surprise for you today. Come on.” Gerald took Dieter's hand, ignoring the people looking at them as he led his lover back toward the subway trains. “Let's see a man about a house."

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Dieter left his office, feeling very nervous and excited. Harold's administrative assistant had called and asked if he could come in to the office after work. After having shipped the copies home, Gerald had taken him to what had been his family's home in Vienna, but to Dieter's surprise, he'd felt almost nothing. It was just a building now. It wasn't even a home any longer, but some sort of exclusive hotel. At least he'd been able to go inside and look through some of the rooms, but none of them looked anything like they had in Gram's pictures or in his imagination, and he left feeling only disappointed. Dieter had spent much of their remaining time in Vienna helping Gerald with his research. They'd gone to various research libraries throughout the city. Much of what they'd looked at, Dieter hadn't understood the importance of, but Gerald had seemed excited.

The day before they left, Dieter went back to the Belvedere and walked the halls, staring at his great-grandmother's portrait as well as the set of four landscapes for the longest time before saying good-bye. He had no idea what was going to become of the endeavor he'd set for himself and Gerald, but in his heart, he knew it was down to him to bring his family's heritage home. What he'd do with them if he got them, he had no idea. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Since he'd been home, Dieter had spent the past three weeks working and completing tasks on his house and spending time with Gerald, but Gerald had been so busy that they really hadn't had a lot of time to spend together. However, the amazing thing was that Gerald never failed to call him each evening, and on the weekends, they always spent their entire Sunday together. They didn't necessarily do a lot or even go out. Those days became about the time they had together. Dieter wished Gerald had more time to spend with him, but he knew Gerald was working so hard for him and to help him.

Driving to Gerald's office, traffic was the worst he could remember, and by the time Dieter parked and took the elevator up, he was feeling bad that he'd wasted both his lover's and Harold's time. When the mirror-polished stainless-steel doors opened, the lobby looked deserted, with only one light on. Dieter nearly turned around to leave when Harold walked through the doors. “We're in my office,” he told him, and Dieter followed Harold through the dimly lit hallways to the large corner office, where Gerald waited for him.

"I'm sorry I'm late,” Dieter said to both of them as he looked through the quiet work area. “I didn't mean to keep you waiting, but traffic was awful, and I got here as soon as I could.” He felt terrible that he'd kept them both waiting after the office had closed.

"We know,” Harold said with a smile as he shook Dieter's hand, picking up his briefcase before walking through the doorway. “I'll leave Gerald to give you the news. Have fun.” The only sound Dieter heard from Harold's trip through the office was the outer door opening and closing.

"I don't understand,” Dieter said as he turned back to Gerald. “I thought there was something he needed to discuss with me.” Dieter hadn't heard much about the case since they'd gotten home, and he was getting a bit nervous and excited, hoping that something would happen soon.

"Well.” Gerald stepped forward, taking his hand. “This morning I took the paperwork to the federal courthouse and got it filed,” Gerald told him, “so we've officially sued the Austrian government and the Belvedere for the return of all twelve of your family's artworks. This is only the first step, and there will be a lot of ups and downs, as well as waiting, from here. But I wanted to take you out to celebrate.” Gerald's smile lit the office, and Dieter wasn't quite sure how to react. He wasn't sure suing someone was a particular cause for celebration. “I know I've been busy for the last few weeks, and I wanted to do something to mark this occasion, because it's the first official step toward the eventual return of your family's legacy.” Gerald stepped close, and Dieter met his gaze in the late-day sunlight coming through the office windows. “I know this probably isn't the best occasion for this, but I've sort of felt like we haven't had much time together, and I wanted that to change.” Tilting his head slightly, Gerald kissed him, his lips sliding lightly over Dieter's and then backing away. “I'm yours for the entire weekend. All we need to do is go to your place to pack a bag and we'll be off."

Resting his head against Gerald's shoulder, Dieter hugged Gerald tight, feeling his warmth through their clothes. “You don't have to do this. I'd be happy if we went back to your place and never left the bed for two days.” Dieter lifted his head and found Gerald's lips.

"Wonderful, because that's exactly what I had in mind: you, me, a bed, and no clothing in sight. I made reservations for a nice dinner, and then we'll go to my place for the rest of the weekend.” Gerald tightened his grip, and it felt as though he was going to kiss him again when a sound from outside drifted into the office.

"I think we'd better leave,” Dieter said as he looked at the desk, “because I don't think Harold would appreciate us doing anything in his office.” Dieter couldn't stifle a soft giggle as an image of him flat on the desk with Gerald standing over him flashed through his imagination.

"What's going on in here?” Linda asked, walking into the office, looking fierce enough that Dieter jumped back.

"Harold knows we're here,” Gerald retorted, and Dieter felt Gerald's arm slide around his waist. “We filed suit this morning, so Dieter and I are about to go celebrate the first step in a long journey.” He sounded confident in the face of this steely woman, who continued glaring at both of them like she'd actually caught them having sex on the desk. Still watching them, she stepped back, and Gerald led Dieter toward the door. Dieter felt somewhat like when he was a child and Gram had caught him doing something he shouldn't. “Have a great weekend, Linda,” Gerald called, and he held it together until the front door closed behind them before breaking into a fit of giggles that took Dieter along with him.

When they got it together, Dieter called for the elevator, and they stepped in as Linda opened the office door. The elevator doors slid closed, and Gerald kissed him. They mustn't have been quite fast enough because the doors slid back open. Dieter knew Linda was staring at both of them, but Gerald didn't stop his kiss for a split second. Dieter would have liked to have seen her face, but the touch of Gerald's lips on his drove everything else from his mind, and he was barely aware of the doors closing again or the movement from the elevator as they descended toward the ground, and it wasn't until the doors slid open again that Gerald broke the kiss. “Let's go to dinner, and then we'll come get your car."

Dieter nodded, and Gerald led him out of the building and down the block to Dimitri's. “Is this where we're eating?” Dieter looked through the large plate-glass windows at candles flickering on white linen-covered tables with dark accents. “It seems so nice."

"It's wonderful and special, just like you,” Gerald said quietly as he touched the small of Dieter's back with a very intimate gesture that propelled Dieter through the doors. Inside, the restaurant was very quiet. Intimate seemed like a cliche, but it was the only word that came to mind. Everyone spoke in low tones, including the staff, and Gerald spoke very softly to the elegant hostess before they were led to their table in front of one of the windows, where they could see people walking on the sidewalk and the lights in the trees that lined the sidewalk. “I always wanted to bring someone special here,” Gerald explained as he stood and waited for Dieter to take his seat. A few minutes later, a server approached, filling their wine glasses. “I hope what I've arranged is okay, but they do an amazing beef Wellington here. They only make it for two, and you have to place the order ahead of time."