knew Ellen planned on making her admission public, then he possessed a motive to silence her. A lot is riding on this election for him.”
Eddie scoffed, “That’s ridiculous. Besides, his visit came two weeks ago. Why don’t you leave the police work to me, Nancy Drew.”
“I’m just saying it would be convenient for him if Ellen was permanently muted. I have no idea what happened, but the fact is, Ellen likely died by cyanide poisoning. Which begs the question—what kind of person can get his hands on cyanide? Probably someone with a lot of connections like Aligor Sterling.”
“You don’t know the cause of death. The tests haven’t even come back yet.”
“I’m just giving the opinion of an unbiased observer. I have no dog in this fight, unlike yourself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You have a motive to protect Sterling—to save your cushy security job for Kingston.”
Eddie jumped at Zach. He grabbed him by his tie and yanked him in his direction. He was about to start the pummeling when a shrill shout sliced through the room, stopping everyone in their tracks.
“Stop fighting!”
Maggie stood in the doorway, her face flush with anger. “You are acting like a bunch of children! Oma would be disappointed—now follow me.”
For some reason it didn’t seem like they had a choice, so they fell into line behind the twelve-year-old. Except for Eddie, who stayed behind like a pouting child to continue badgering Dr. Bondy and Mrs. Rhodes.
Maggie maneuvered them through the Long Term Care facility and out a sliding glass door that led to a courtyard. She trudged over the grounds until she came to a weathered maintenance shed. She went directly to a man in a flannel shirt who was old enough to pass for a resident. Maggie called him Red, and ignored his stench of gasoline and freshly cut grass to embrace him in a hug. She then introduced Red as the head of landscaping at Sunshine Village.
“What can I do for you, Mags?” he asked.
“I need to borrow a shovel.”
Could this get any weirder, Veronica wondered. But on second thought, she really didn’t want to know the answer.
Maggie flung the shovel over her shoulder and led them to a desolate, wooded area on the campus grounds. Without a word, she began to dig.
The group was too entranced to say anything, or offer help. About a foot deep in the hard November ground, Maggie put her shovel down and struggled to pull out an object that was covered in a plastic garbage bag. Zach and Youkelstein proved that chivalry wasn’t totally dead, helping her bring the object to the surface At least it’s not a body, Veronica thought. Hoped.
When Maggie tore off the garbage bag, Veronica was stunned. It was a painting of a young man draped in a fur coat, with long 1970s rock band type hair escaping from underneath a beret.
Veronica moved closer to examine the painting. It could be a fake, but something told her it was the real deal. And Mama Sweetney said those art history classes would never pay off.
“You recognize it?” Zach asked.
“Yes—it’s Raphael’s Portrait of a Young Man. It was looted from the Czartoryski Museum in 1939. It’s arguably the most famous still-missing painting from the Nazi art plundering during World War II.”
Youkelstein joined her in examining it. “My Lord,” he uttered, focused on the inscription. Veronica cringed. Who would do such a thing to this valuable painting?
The writing was in German, but Youkelstein translated. “It says: To my beloved Ellen on the birth of your Josef. He will be painted one day as the leader of the world, and his painting will be titled The Chosen One.” He paused for dramatic effect, before adding, “And it is signed by Adolf Hitler.”
Oh, him. Veronica guessed that if he was willing to destroy a race of people, desecrating a painting likely wouldn’t have caused him any sleepless nights.
“I’m not a handwriting expert,” Youkelstein said, “but I’ve seen that bastard’s writing more than my own. I’d bet my remaining years that it’s not a fake.”
Maggie turned to Veronica. “Oma said I should show you this painting if she died unexpectedly. She said you would know what to do with it.”
“How did you …” Veronica began, but her words trailed off. She knew the answer.
“We got it from her security box at the bank when we picked up the photos you yelled at me for before.” A sheepish grin came over Maggie’s face. “Oma really didn’t see aliens that night—it was