The Amber Room Page 0,87

is over. You have my permission, Christian, to handle the situation at will."

Monika stared at her father. "I thought I was to be in charge."

Fellner smiled. "You must indulge an old man one last quest. Christian and I have worked this for years. I feel we may be on to something. I ask your

permission,liebling, to intrude on your domain."

Monika managed a weak smile, clearly not pleased. But, Knoll thought, what could she say? Never had she openly defied her father, though privately she'd many times vented her anger over his perpetual patience. Fellner was raised in the old school, where men ruled and women gave birth. He commanded a financial empire that dominated the European communications market. Politicians and industrialists courted his favor. But his wife and son were dead, and Monika was the only remaining Fellner. So he'd been forced to mold a woman intohisimage of a man. Luckily, she was tough. And smart.

"Of course, Father. Do as you wish."

Fellner reached over and cupped his daughter's hand. "I know you don't understand. But I love you for your deference."

Knoll couldn't resist. "Something new."

Monika shot him a hard glance.

Fellner chuckled. "Quite right, Christian. You know her well. You two will make quite a team."

Monika retreated to a chair.

Fellner said, "Christian, return to Stod and find out what is going on. Handle Suzanne however you desire. Before I die I want to know about the Amber Room, one way or the other. If you have any doubts, remember that mine shaft and your ten million euros."

He stood. "I assure you, I will not forget either."

FORTY-TWO

Stod

1:45 p.m.

The garni's grand salon was full. Paul stood off to the side next to Rachel, watching

the drama unfold. Certainly, if ambience counted, the room's decor should definitely help Wayland McKoy. Colorful, thickly framed maps of old Germany hung from oak-paneled walls. A shimmering brass chandelier, burnished antique chairs, and a richly designed Oriental carpet rounded out the atmosphere.

Fifty-six people filled the chairs, their faces a mixture of wonder and exhaustion. They'd been bussed straight from Frankfurt, after arriving by air four hours ago. Their ages varied from early thirties to mid-sixties. Race varied, too. Most were white, two black couples, both older, and one Japanese pair. They all seemed eager and anticipatory.

McKoy and Grumer stood at the front of the long room along with five of the

excavation's employees. A television with VCR rested on a metal stand. Two somber men sat in the rear, notebooks in hand, and appeared to be reporters. McKoy wanted to exclude them, but both flashed identification from ZDF, a German news organization that had optioned the story, and insisted on staying. "Just watch what you say," Paul had warned.

"Welcome, partners," McKoy said, smiling like a television evangelist. A murmur of conversation receded.

"There's coffee, juice, and danish outside. I know you've had a long journey and are tired. Jet lag's hell, right? But I'm sure you're also anxious to hear how things are goin'."

The direct approach had been Paul's idea. McKoy had favored stalling, but Paul had argued that would do nothing but arouse suspicions. "Keep the tone pleasant and mild," he'd warned. "No 'fuck you' every other word like I heard yesterday, okay?" McKoy repeatedly assured him he was housebroken, fully schooled on how to handle a crowd.

"I know the question on all your minds. Have we found anythin'? No, not yet. But we did make progress yesterday." He motioned to Grumer. "This isHerr DoktorAlfred Grumer, professor of art antiquities at the University of Mainz.Herr Doktoris our resident expert on the dig. I'll let him explain what happened."

Grumer stepped forward, looking the part of an elderly professor in a tweed wool jacket, corduroy pants, and knit tie. He stood with his right hand stuffed in his trouser pocket, his left arm free. With a disarming smile he said, "I thought I would tell you a little something about how this venture came about.

"Looting art treasure is a time-honored tradition. The Greeks and Romans always stripped a defeated nation of their valuables. Crusaders during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries pilfered all across Eastern Europe and the Middle East. Western European churches and cathedrals continue to be adorned with their plunder. "In the seventeenth century, a more refined method of stealing began. After a military defeat the great royal collections-there were no museums in those days-were purchased rather than stolen. An example. When Tsarist armies occupied Berlin in 1757, Frederick II's collections were not touched. To have tampered with them would have been