Legal Artistry (3 page)

Placing the album back on the coffee table, Dieter decided it was time for bed. He'd try to rest. The wine store didn't open till noon, and he could sleep in before going to work. Dieter turned out the lights before walking up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom, the one that had been his since he'd come to live with Gram. He passed Auntie Kate's room, still made up as though she lived there. He passed Gram's, too, its door closed because he couldn't think about going in there without her, at least not yet.

Dieter went into his room, closing the door behind him. This was the one place in the house where he didn't feel like Gram was going to walk into the room at any minute. Turning on the light, Dieter stripped off his clothes and put on his bathrobe, the one Gram had gotten him last Christmas, before padding to the bathroom to clean up.

Showered and clean, Dieter went back to his room and climbed under the covers, hoping that sleep would come. But all he did was lie there, staring at the ceiling. Gram was gone, Auntie Kate was gone, and so were his parents. Dieter was the last of his family, and he felt very much alone. Rolling onto his side, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

Dieter woke the way he always did on a Sunday morning, listening for Gram's footsteps, but of course he heard nothing. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes once again and fell back to sleep, waking again with the sun shining through the window. Sean had been right—Dieter felt better after a good sleep. Pushing back the covers, he got dressed and checked the clock before cleaning up and preparing to go to work.

By the time he made it downstairs, it was too late for breakfast, not that he really wanted any. There were certain things he'd always miss, and Gram's breakfast was one of them. Retrieving his jacket from where he'd thrown it over the back of one of the chairs, Dieter left the house, locking the door before strolling down the walk to his car. He felt as though a cloud had parted and everything was going to be okay. Getting into the car, Dieter started the engine and eased out of his parking space and onto the quiet street.

Dieter found a parking spot not far from Sommelier Wines. The store had a small parking lot, but Dieter tried to leave those spaces for customers, especially on weekends when the store was busiest. Walking to the front door, Dieter saw Sean inside working, and he rapped lightly on the door.

"You're looking better,” Sean told him as he held the door open. “You must have gotten some sleep."

"I did, and I talked to Tyler about the stuff in Gram's attic. He came over last night and looked around. You won't believe this, but he says that there're some great things up there, and he already found a real treasure chest. It's from the sixteen hundreds or something. You should come see it. The thing's really cool."

"Have you decided what you're going to do with it?"

"Yeah, Gram said the things in the attic were mostly stuff Gramps dragged home, so I'm going to sell what I can so I can fix up the house.” Dieter fidgeted a little. “And I think I need to make it look less like Gram's."

"Good,” Sean told him as he relocked the door. “If you want to stay in the house, you need to make it your own. Otherwise it's just a memorial to your grandmother, and you'll never be able to move on. But like I said last night, take your time,” Sean cautioned. Dieter appreciated Sean's concern. Walking through the store, Dieter put his jacket in the office before getting right to work.

"Dieter, I'm opening the doors,” Sean told him, and Dieter finished up his task, taking the empty boxes to the back and making sure there were no obstacles on the sales floor. A few customers trickled in and began to wander through the store. Sean greeted them and offered a tasting while Dieter continued filling shelves. As the store got busier, Dieter stopped filling and went into customer-service mode, helping people with their purchases.

Later in the afternoon, Dieter saw Sean's partner, Sam, walk into the store, looking handsome in his police uniform. At one time, Dieter had had a bit of an infatuation with Sam, but he'd gotten over it. “Hey, Dieter, how are you holding up?” Sam asked after he'd greeted Sean with a quick kiss.

"I'm okay,” he answered. It had become his stock answer, but he was starting to feel as though he truly would be. “It's getting easier."

"You know if you need anything or just want to talk, either Sean or I will listen and do whatever we can.” Sam looked so serious but caring at the same time.

"Thank you."

Sam squeezed his shoulder before returning to Sean. Dieter saw them talking quietly for a few minutes, and then Sam said good-bye and waved before leaving the store.

During a lull in the afternoon, Sean ordered sandwiches, and they took turns eating before returning to work and helping customers for the rest of the day.

Near closing time, Dieter saw Tyler and his partner, Mark, enter the store, with Mark carrying Gram's photo album like it was a precious relic. Sean greeted them, and they talked for a few minutes before all three of them walked to where Dieter was just finishing with a customer. “Tyler and I have something we'd like to talk to you about,” Mark said very seriously. “Would you mind coming to the studio after work? It's important."

Dieter looked to Sean, who looked confused, and then to Tyler, who looked as serious as Mark did. “Okay,” Dieter answered slowly, wondering what was wrong. He felt just like he had the day Gram found a certain magazine under his mattress.

"It's not bad,” Tyler clarified, “but it is important."

"I'll walk down after the store closes, if that's okay,” Dieter answered, becoming curious as to what they wanted to talk about and what Gram's photo album had to do with it. Mark and Tyler seemed pleased, and smiled. Mark continued holding the album, and after they purchased a bottle of wine, Mark and Tyler left, with Mark still carrying Gram's album. It looked sort of like he didn't want to let it go.

For that last half hour, Dieter kept wondering what Mark and Tyler could want with him, and by the time the store closed, Dieter was jumpy, his nerves getting the best of him. “It's okay,” Sean told him as he closed the door. “I'll come with you if you want."

"Thanks, Sean, but I'll be fine. I'm just wondering what they could want."

"They didn't tell me,” Sean said as he emptied the money from the register, carrying it to the back. “Go on and find out. Sam is taking me to dinner, and he'll be here soon. He and I can drop the deposit on our way.” Sean had a rule about two people going to the bank with deposits.

"If you're sure."

"Go on, you look about ready to explode."

"Thanks, Sean,” Dieter said as he grabbed his jacket. He heard Sean chuckle from behind him as they walked to the front door and Sean let him out, locking the door once he was outside. Dieter hurried down the sidewalk, walking the short distance to where Tyler had his antique store.

Tyler seemed to be watching for him and opened the door as he approached. Dieter had walked by the store a number of times before, but he'd never been inside. Tyler closed the door behind him. A small dog, curled up in a doggie bed, lifted its head and barked softly. “Jolie, be good,” Tyler scolded, and the miniature dachshund got up and padded toward Dieter to investigate him. He let her sniff his hand and gave her a few gentle strokes. Satisfied, she turned and went back to curl up in her bed again.

Tyler led the way through displays of bedrooms and living rooms, the store largely dark, but a number of things still caught Dieter's eye as they made their way toward the back of the store. “Where are we going?"

"Mark has a studio in the back of the store, and he wants to talk to you there,” Tyler answered as he led them through a door in the back room. Tyler's partner, Mark, was quite a famous artist. Dieter had seen a few of his pieces when he was at Sean's. Mark had done an amazing portrait of Sean's son, Bobby, that hung in Sean's living room. Tyler opened a large door, and the scent of paint obliterated everything else. Mark sat on a stool behind an easel, brush in hand, his attention so riveted on what he was doing that he didn't even look up when the door opened.

Dieter looked at Tyler, about to ask what was going on, but he stopped when he saw the warm, soft look on Tyler's face. Dieter closed his mouth and stood silently, watching Mark work for a few minutes. “Oh, you're here,” Mark said once he lifted his eyes from the canvas. “I get busy and don't hear anything,” he explained as he set aside his palette. “Let me clean up a minute, and I'll be right back.” Mark picked up his supplies, hurrying out of the studio, and Dieter stepped further into the large area. Paintings and canvases leaned against the far wall. One caught Dieter's eye, and he stepped closer to take a look. Mark rejoined them a few minutes later, and Dieter stepped away from the painting, curiously looking toward Mark.

"Dieter,” Mark started to say as he pulled a stool up to a rudimentary table that lined the side wall, “I know we were a bit mysterious when we talked earlier, but I thought this was something we should talk about privately.” Tyler pulled up a chair as well, and Mark set Dieter's grandmother's photo album in front of him. “I have a few questions for you that I hope will confirm my suspicions."

"What is this about?” Dieter asked, placing his hand on the album. “And what does this have to do with Gram's pictures?"

"I'll explain everything I suspect, I promise,” Mark told him, and Dieter nodded, his eyes focused on Mark.

"Did your grandmother ever tell you the names of her parents?” Mark asked him, and Dieter could tell he was quite excited.

Dieter opened the cover of the photo album, turning to the page that had the picture he wanted. “Gram said their last name was Meinauer. This is Gram's dad, Joseph, and this is her mother, Anna. That's Gram sitting between them."

Mark's excitement seemed to ramp up, and Dieter saw him glance toward Tyler. “Did she ever tell you what happened to them?"

"Gram said her mother died after she'd been sick for a while. After that she said her father wasn't the same. She told me that when she was about twelve, her dad came to her after she had already gone to bed and told her to be very quiet. She said he led her through the house and out the servants’ door. They got into a car and made their way through the streets. She told me her father took her out of Austria just ahead of the Germans. Gram told me stories of how they survived in Switzerland during most of the war. She said they were lucky because her father managed to take some of his wealth with him, at least enough that they were able to live during the war. Her father died still in Switzerland after the war, and she came to the US where she met Gramps."

Mark appeared to listen intently. “Do you know who this is in this painting?” Mark pointed to the one hanging on the wall above them in the picture.

"Yes. That's Gram's mother. Gram said she was a real socialite and spent a lot of time with artists and writers. Gram said her mother had commissioned that painting for her father. But it was lost in the war,” Dieter explained, remembering how Gram had said that everything from her family was gone except these pictures. “She told me that these photos were in the bags her father packed when they left Vienna. Why?"

Mark seemed to get more excited and pulled out a heavy book from the stack on the table. “Does this look familiar?” Mark turned to a page with a piece of paper in it, letting the book fall open.

"That's...,” Dieter stammered as he looked at the full color plate and then back at the photograph in Gram's album. “That's her. That's Gram's mother.” Dieter could hardly believe it. “But Gram said it was gone."

"Maybe gone to her, but the painting survived,” Mark explained. “This painting is entitled
Portrait of Anna
and is by a very famous Austrian artist named August Pirktl. I looked through your photo album, and I was able to identify four other paintings by Pirktl in the backgrounds. All of these paintings are in the Belvedere Museum in Vienna.” Mark closed the book. “Dieter, you need to know that
Portrait of Anna
is also known as
The Lady in Blue
and is world famous. This painting,” he said, pointing to the photograph in Gram's album, “is one of the most important paintings of the early twentieth century and is considered an Austrian national treasure. I had a poster of the painting on my dorm room wall when I was at art school."

"Oh.” Dieter didn't know what else to say.

"I did some more research online, and there are a number of sources that say that the painting was confiscated during the war and that it was given by the Nazis to the Belvedere. These other four paintings I was able to identify by Pirktl are also hanging in the Belvedere."

"What are you saying?” Dieter asked, as Mark looked like he was about to bounce off the chair.

"I'm saying that these paintings may not belong to the Belvedere. If the Nazis confiscated them and gave them to the museum, then the museum may not own them."

"Then who does?” Dieter asked.

"You."

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Gerald increased his pace, walking faster as he tried not to look like he was hurrying toward the conference room. Nothing betrayed inefficiency and a lack of decorum worse than looking like you were rushing to get somewhere—at least from the viewpoint of Harold Prince, the senior partner in the law firm where Gerald hoped to someday be offered a full partnership. Approaching the conference room, Gerald checked his watch once again and slowed his pace; he had two minutes. Pulling open the glass conference-room door, he walked in and quietly took his seat at the far end of the table where all the junior attorneys sat, proximity to Harold during the daily case briefing being a coveted show of status within the office.

"Good morning,” Harold called to the assembled group as soon as he walked into the room, starting the meeting even before he'd taken his seat. “Where do we stand?” As though it were scripted, everyone gave the latest update on their cases in fifty words or less, and unless there were questions, the spotlight moved from attorney to attorney, the more senior attorneys with the most interesting cases going first. Gerald listened to each of the updates, even making a few notes when he had a question he wanted to ask later. As the meeting progressed, the cases got more and more mundane until it was time for the junior associates to give their updates. Even though their cases were often downright boring and every attorney at the table had dealt with dozens of similar cases, the partners gave them their attention and asked questions to help guide and teach. It was one of the things that Gerald liked about the office. Yes, there was a strict hierarchy, but they were still a team, and they acted as such. “Gerald, how is the Anderson case progressing?” Harold asked. He knew by heart every case that everyone had active.