No Greater Love - Eris Field Page 0,45

I right in assuming that you did not force yourself upon her?” Maarten’s quaint words held a definite sting.

For a moment Pieter lost himself in the memory of Janan’s first tentative kiss. “No, I didn't force myself upon her.” At his uncle’s growled humph, he hurried to change the subject. “You said that we have work to do. I’m afraid I don’t understand what work you have in mind.”

“You and I face two tasks, one easy and one hard.” Maarten picked up a thick folder from the table by his side and handed it to Pieter. “Let me explain. I have named you my heir. You now own this house and all my business interests in the Bentinck Foundation.” A faint smile crossed his face. “I don’t know if you are aware that all of the family assets are held by the Bentinck Foundation, including your mother’s.” His eyes twinkled from beneath his heavy brows. “I’ve already deeded the house to you and notified the board of directors that you’ll be replacing me on the board immediately.”

“Why are you doing this?” Pieter asked, bewildered by his uncle’s disclosure. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I’m doing it for Mei Ling. When Carl told me what your mother had done, I knew that I had to do it . . . for Mei Ling.” His eyes glistened. “You will move here at once.” He thumped his cane on the floor. “Unthinkable, my nephew living in rented quarters.”

“Was that the easy or the hard task?”

“The easy one.” His hand was shaky as he reached for his glasses. “Carl asked me to do some things for him and I will need your help.”

Pieter had stiffened and turned away at his uncle’s words. “You will have to excuse me from that task,” he said in a forbidding voice.

“Don’t be a domkop,” Maarten continued brusquely. “What we must do will help Janan when the time comes. Otherwise she will be alone trying to arrange everything. Is that what you want for her?”

“No.” His voice was husky as he thought of Janan alone in the forbidding, old house in Leiden with a housekeeper who probably disapproved of her and two infants. “I will help you in any way I can.”

“Good. This is what we have to do.” Maarten pulled a notebook from his coat pocket and turned several pages. “Ah, here we are. I made notes of what Carl wanted: make the arrangements for his funeral and secure a burial plot.” He looked up at Pieter’s shocked, “What?”

“He had planned to do it himself but his health problems have worsened and he has asked me to help him.” He glared at Pieter sternly. “He wants his funeral services to be at the Synagogue at 16 Levendaal in Leiden. He said that he realizes that he has no family and no friends here but he wants to do it to honor his family even if the synagogue is empty.”

“I don’t know what the customs are.”

“Well, I know that his father was Jewish but I don’t know about his mother. The Germans considered his whole family to be Jewish when they sent them to the camps.” He scowled at his notes. “That should be good enough authentication.”

“Carl was sent to the U.S. when he was only five years old. Perhaps he was raised in another religion?”

“He made that point clear. He never practiced the Jewish religion but he never practiced any other religion either.” He looked pointedly at Pieter. “I think we need to make an appointment to meet with the rabbi of the Leiden Synagogue.”

“Do you know him?”

“Yes, we’ve worked together in the past.” He paused then mumbled, “I have a little trouble getting around and I need you to take me to meet with him.”

“I will be glad to help you. Do you have a folding wheelchair?” Pieter asked matter-of-factly.

“No! Of course not!” Maarten snarled. “I do not need a wheelchair.”

“If we are going to do what you want to do, you must let me find an appropriate travel-chair. There are some Dutch ones that are well designed for tall men,” he added diplomatically.

Maarten waved his hand in agreement. “I’ll leave those tiresome details to you.” He examined his notes again. “We have to find out if there is a family plot in the Katwijk Cemetery. It’s likely that Carl’s father’s family would have been buried there.”

Pieter took his notebook and pen from his pocket. “I think we have to find out two things: if he is eligible