up by braces, he stared through a high-powered magnification lamp that allowed him to see the necklace clasp he was working on. He was also wearing a thick pair of glasses attached to a black cord hanging round his neck.
Without turning his head, he sensed the group’s approach and calmly laid down his tools. After all this time, someone had finally come to claim the item. It was a moment his family had been waiting for since 1886. Although his role had been small over the years, he was honoured to be a part of the conclusion and thrilled to share the moment with his son. With a great effort, he swivelled on his seat until he faced the doorway. He wanted to get a good look at the group that had found the receipt and answered his question correctly.
‘Please come in,’ he said with a thick Bavarian accent. ‘I apologize for not coming to greet you, but as my son surely mentioned, my mobility is poor.’
Payne smiled warmly. ‘If anything, we’re the ones who should apologize for showing up unannounced. I’m sorry if we’ve inconvenienced you in any way.’
Appreciative of the sentiment, the old man stuck out his hand and formally introduced himself. ‘My name is Alexander. It is a pleasure to meet you.’
‘The pleasure is ours,’ Payne said as they shook hands. ‘My name is Jon.’
Jones followed his lead. ‘I’m David.’
‘I’m Heidi.’
Ulster went last. ‘And I’m Petr.’
Strangely, Ulster’s handshake lasted longer than all the others combined. After a few uncomfortable seconds, Ulster tried to release his hand from the old man’s grip, but Hauser held tight, his yellow fingernails digging into Ulster’s skin. Everyone, including Hauser’s son, was confused by the development. The old man finally blinked and released his grasp.
‘I am sorry,’ he said, obviously embarrassed. ‘It’s just, well, I saw …’
With empathy in his eyes, Ulster looked at Hauser and tried to figure out what had just happened. For a split-second or two, it seemed as if the old man had gone somewhere else in his mind. ‘You saw, what?’
He swallowed hard and tried to explain. ‘As a jeweller, I could not help but notice the ring on your finger. With your permission, may I take a closer look?’
Ulster stared at his right hand. The gold ring was a permanent fixture. Not only because of its personal significance, but also because of his weight gain over the years. ‘Unfortunately, I’m unable to remove the ring. My fingers are a tad too plump.’
‘That is fine,’ he assured him. ‘I can work round that.’
With some effort, Hauser picked up the magnification lamp. It was attached to a manoeuvrable spring arm and clamped to the counter. As everyone watched closely, he slowly pulled the powerful lens towards Ulster’s hand and adjusted the settings on the light so he could get a better look at the family crest on the ring. When the image - an eagle with a sword in one talon and a scroll in the other - came into view, the old man gasped in recognition. He hadn’t seen the coat of arms in more than sixty years.
‘Are you an Ulster?’ the old man asked.
He was taken aback. ‘Yes, sir. My name is Petr Ulster.’
‘And your grandfather, what was his name?’
‘Conrad. Conrad Ulster.’
The old man trembled slightly. A few seconds passed before he lifted his eyes to meet Ulster’s gaze. For the first time, everyone noticed that the old man had started to cry. ‘Then it has come full circle.’
Hauser’s son rushed forward. ‘Papa, what is wrong?’
The old man shook his head for several seconds. When he finally spoke, his voice quivered with emotion. ‘Nothing is wrong, my son. Everything is right. The right people have come for the case. Please retrieve it from the vault.’
His son nodded, and moved away to fulfil the request.
Meanwhile, the old man slowly regained his composure. First, he wiped away his tears with his sleeve, then he pointed to a stack of folding chairs in the corner of the room. After years of being hunched over a counter, his spine was so curved he had trouble lifting his head.
‘Please take a seat. I’d like to look at you while we talk.’
As they carried their chairs across the room, Friedrich Hauser returned from the vault with a plain, wooden crate. It was nondescript in every way. He set it gently on the floor next to his father’s stool, then he took a chair for himself. From this point forward, he was like