The Heritage Paper (5 page)

“When I met him I was unaware of his family situation, so that had nothing to do with my apprehension.”

“Let’s stop beating around the bush—his mother killed his abusive father. That’s a little more than a
situation
. What does this have to do with anything?”

“There was something in his eyes that I could never shake. Behind his charismatic smile was this look that said he was capable of doing very bad things.”

Veronica shut her eyes. She visualized the look in those eyes that night in the kitchen when everything changed for them.

“Honey, I’ve seen that same look in Jamie’s eyes, and I think it’s important to stop it right now before it’s too late.”

Zach Chester was still smiling from his brief encounter with Veronica Peterson. They had gotten to know each other through their kids—TJ and Maggie had no other friends, so their parenting paths had crossed on numerous occasions—and she never failed to make him smile. The part he couldn’t understand was why he felt guilty about it. Sara was the one who did the cheating. And sadly, that was the least of their problems.

It all started when Zach got his dream job at
Newsbreaker Magazine
and they moved to New York. All was right with the world; at least until Sara began acting erratically and forgetting to pick up TJ at school. There were times when she seemed like a completely different person, but he wrote it off as the stress of trying to adjust to a new life in a new city. But she sure didn’t appear to be stressed-out on the surveillance tapes—the ones taken by the cameras they’d installed in their brownstone for security purposes, including their bedroom, where she seemed to be doing a good job of making new friends. The thing that struck him was how brazen she was. She knew the cameras were there—it was like she didn’t care.

Zach moved out, so he wasn’t present weeks later when Sara was arrested for running a crystal-meth ring out of their basement. And she was so hooked on the stuff she no longer recognized their son. The news helped explain her dramatic behavioral shift, but it sure wasn’t easy to explain to TJ. And being a supposed award-winning journalist, he couldn’t believe that he never picked up on the signs. It still haunted him.

He remained married, but no longer had a wife. And for all intents and purposes, he was now a single parent. He’d moved to Pleasantville so TJ could be close to the Bedford Hills Women’s Prison where his mother now resided. He was forced to leave his job at
Newsbreaker,
and now wrote for the
Hudson Valley Times
, a small local paper.

The students and assorted relatives were led into a classroom. Desks were set up in a semi-circle, facing a podium where the Heritage Paper presentations would be made.

Many of the children had brought a grandparent to accompany them with their presentation, so the room had the feel of Bingo Night at the local senior center. Zach was fairly new to town, so he didn’t recognize many, but two of them he did, and was surprised by their presence.

He knew the elderly men from a story he did for
Newsbreaker
on the sixty-year anniversary of the end of the Holocaust. Aligor Sterling, head of the Sterling Center, was the most recognizable because of his political activism, including being presidential candidate Jim Kingston’s biggest contributor.

Ben Youkelstein wasn’t a household name like Sterling, but he was well known in the underground world of Nazi hunting. The two of them had relentlessly tracked Nazi war criminals across the globe the last half-century, attempting to bring justice to an unjustifiable event. Zach wasn’t sure why they were here, but his best guess was that they had grandchildren in Pleasantville. He figured that some kid was going to have an interesting presentation.

After welcoming everyone, their teacher Mrs. Foss explained why they were packed like sardines into a sixth grade classroom. The mission of the Heritage Paper was to trace one branch of the family tree, using a living relative as the chief source, to see it through their eyes, and then present it together. Mrs. Foss had the kids pick an order out of a hat. TJ would be second to last, which meant Zach would have to stick around for the whole thing.

The first two presentations went by fairly quickly, as the nervous students talked a mile a minute. They were bland and generic, which made him feel better about TJ’s presentation, which would be purposely vague.

Maggie Peterson was now up. Zach checked for Veronica, but it didn’t look like she would make it. Instead of a relative, Maggie brought a television on a cart. Mrs. Foss announced that Maggie’s great-grandmother, Ellen Peterson, was too frail to attend, so they had made a video. Zach remembered TJ helping out with the recording, or something along those lines.

Maggie read off index cards, explaining that her great-grandmother had come to America following World War II and lived in New York until she moved to Sunshine Village in Chappaqua, a couple of years back. And without further ado, Ellen Peterson appeared on the screen. She eerily reminded Zach of the old lady in the
Titanic
movie.

“My name is Ellen Peterson, but my maiden name was Ellen Sarowitz. I was born in Munich, Germany in 1918. Before I get into the events of my life, I have a confession to make. This project is about family and heritage, and I have not been truthful about my past with my own family.”

This got Zach’s attention. A little scandal might not be a bad thing, he thought, perhaps livening up the tedious school project. He looked at TJ, searching for a hint of inside information. TJ just shrugged. Zach wasn’t sure what it meant, mainly because TJ responded to most things these days with a shrug.

Ellen continued, “I came to America as part of the underground railroad that helped deliver persecuted European Jews to the safety of the West. But I came under the false pretenses of being a survivor of the Terezin concentration camp.”

Zach noticed a tear on Ellen’s overly blushed cheek. He glanced again at Youkelstein and Sterling; now wondering if their presence might be connected to this confession.

“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.”

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 standing beside him. For decades, they tracked down war criminals that had escaped after the war. But rumor has it that they had a nasty breakup this past year.”

“They look more like a couple of guys who wandered away from Sunshine Village.”

“Don’t be fooled by the grandfatherly facades. I did a story on them a few years ago when I worked at
Newsbreaker.
It’s rumored that Sterling has Martin Bormann’s skull displayed in his office.”

Before Veronica could ask why anyone would keep this Martin fellow’s skull on display, or how it was connected to Maggie’s project, her mother entered the room like the Tasmanian Devil, speaking rapidly into a phone. Veronica hadn’t heard this many apologies from her mother in her life. Someone was in big trouble, and Veronica had the feeling it was Maggie.

She abruptly ended the call and eyed the group suspiciously. Zach was her first target. “I see you’ve taken it upon yourself to join us, Mr. Chester. Are you planning a story for your newspaper?”

“No, ma’am. My son TJ helped Maggie on her project and I’d like to get to the bottom of this as much as you. My son is very good at using Photoshop software, which I think might have played a role in many of the altered photos displayed during the presentation.”

Her mother sat down behind her desk, looking out of sorts. Veronica could tell she was craving a cigarette. Veronica didn’t smoke, but a shot of bourbon would have hit the spot right now.

She pointed at Sterling and Youkelstein. “Did you two get lost on your way to a hearing-aid convention?”

Sterling cleared his throat with an attitude, as if to say he shouldn’t have to introduce himself. “Ellen Peterson invited me. I will always make time for Holocaust survivors, even with the election so near, and so much to do.”

Seemingly unimpressed, she turned to Obi-Wan. “And you Mr. …”

“Youkelstein. I also received an invitation from Ellen. She mentioned in her video presentation that she believes Aligor and I can assist in stopping a group called the Apostles, who’s aim is to return the Reich to power.”

“And when we’re done with that, we can all fly to Mars for lunch. Do either of you have a previous relationship with Ellen?” she continued, while holding a stare at Maggie. To Maggie’s credit, she peered right back. “Since invitations were supposed to be given to family or close friends
only
, I’m confused by your presence.”

“I’ve known Ellen for years. My organization helped many people like Ellen who survived concentration camps. And her grandson, Carsten, worked for me at Sterling Publishing. That is why I didn’t hesitate to come when I received the invitation,” Sterling answered quickly.