“My mother, Etta, had been a prostitute, so my formative years were surrounded by drug abuse and my mother’s loose morals. Strange men would gravitate to our apartment and would often beat and rape my mother. They would also try the same on me, so I had to learn how to defend myself at a young age.”
Mrs. Foss looked shell-shocked—rape, drugs, and prostitution probably wasn’t what she had in mind when she concocted this project. That’s what you get for opening up the scary can of worms called family, Zach mused.
“I came to think of our ghetto as hell on earth, and the Jews who lived there were the devil’s children, even if I carried the same blood as them. When I was around Maggie’s age, my mother began to show the symptoms of a deadly form of syphilis. At the end, she couldn’t get out of bed and I became her caretaker.
“It was the fall of 1932 when a young man running for German Chancellor came through our neighborhood on the campaign trail. He stopped by our home to see my sick mother to help promote his plan for national health insurance, building on the system that began with Prince Otto von Bismarck, after Germany united in the nineteenth century. The candidate was so taken by our plight that he openly wept and promised my mother he’d care for me when she died. And unlike most political candidates, he lived up to his campaign promise.
“That man’s name was Adolf Hitler.”
Chapter 8
Veronica watched them march one by one into the principal’s office and be seated like a jury. The last person to enter was Maggie—the defendant. Her face was rigid, ready to fight authority. She had rebelliously removed her sweater, displaying her against-the-rules political T-shirt supporting Jim Kingston.
Maggie’s teacher had a look on her face like she signed up to teach sixth-grade social studies only to find herself tricked into a ponzi scheme.
There were also two older men in the line-up. One that Veronica had never seen before, while the other she was well aware of.
The mystery man was rail-thin with a wispy mustache, and a few snowflakes of white hair on top of his head. He reminded her of the Obi-Wan Kenobi character from the original Star Wars movie, sans the beard and goofy robe, and had traded his light saber for an umbrella. Veronica found this odd considering that no rain was anticipated, although, a few unexpected thundershowers had already interrupted her morning. The umbrella matched his dapper black suit, which reminded Veronica of her father’s look when he used to work at Reader’s Digest, back when it was headquartered in Pleasantville.
The man she knew was named Aligor Sterling. He was Carsten’s boss when he worked at Sterling Publishing. In fact, he was everybody’s boss—he was the founder, owner, and overall head honcho. She didn’t know him that well—mainly from the annual summer party where they’d meander around Manhattan on his luxury yacht—but Carsten practically worshiped him. She did however feel indebted to him for his help the week following Carsten’s death. He didn’t just write a check for the funeral, he put in the time, providing her with much-needed comfort. And he was under no obligation, since Sterling Publishing had no liability in his death. Carsten had died of a stroke.
Aligor waved to her from his wheelchair. Despite being north of ninety, he still had a full head of hair that he dyed black, and wore his trademark oval-rimmed glasses. But she noticed that he wasn’t sporting his usual gentle smile.
There was a pleasant surprise in the room—Zach Chester and his son TJ. Zach walked directly to Veronica’s side, her eyes searching him for some clues as to what this was all about. When she found none, she asked.
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” he whispered back.
Not very reassuring. “What does it have to do with Carsten?”
Zach looked puzzled. “Carsten?”
“My former husband. He worked for Sterling Publishing. I thought that’s why Aligor Sterling is here.”
“No, I believe he’s here because Ellen invited him.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because he’s a well-known Nazi hunter.”
Veronica’s face scrunched with confusion. She had no idea what that was. “I’m not sure I understand—I thought Aligor Sterling ran Sterling Publishing.”
“While Sterling is best known for his political activism and his publishing empire, after the war he started an organization with intent to bring justice for the Holocaust survivors. His partner was named Ben Youkelstein—the guy