Grant looked skeptical. She tried to upsell it.
“They have these exquisite platings. The food is so fresh—pure and perfect. They use very high-quality ingredients. It’s the place to be. I had to beg to secure a reservation for tonight.”
“Do they have McDonalds?” Grant asked.
“Are you serious? We aren’t going to McDonalds,” she told him. “I always go to this restaurant when I’m in Geneva. It’s my security blanket. I always feel like the big dumb American when I’m here. This restaurant is good, though. I really like the chef.”
Grant looked out the window unhappily.
“What are we waiting on?” he said, clearly annoyed.
Kate didn’t understand why he wasn’t more enthusiastic. A black sedan pulled in a few spaces away from them.
“That looks like your father and the insurance agent,” she remarked.
“Insurance agent?”
“Of course,” Kate said. “It’s a multimillion-dollar watch. Insurance has to be involved.”
“This is really complicated,” Grant said and pushed the car door open.
Chapter 18
Grant
Two well-dressed men in suits got out of a black sedan and came over to them as they got out of the car.
“Good morning, Walter,” Kate greeted his father. “How was the flight?”
“We just arrived,” he said. “There was rain over Heathrow but nothing too bad.” He held out a hand to Grant. “Let me see that watch.” He took Grant’s wrist and whistled. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice this. Where did you find it?” As Grant was about to open his mouth, a silver-haired man wearing a fine suit with a blue pocket square came out and greeted them.
“Good morning. I am Monsieur Bernard, and I work here at Patek. We are honored to have you with us this morning to look at this historical piece.” They were ushered into the midrise building. The lobby had a distinctive European feel with small pinpricks of recessed lighting, lots of glass, and light-colored wood on the ceilings.
“If you would follow me,” Monsieur Bernard said.
He led them to a bright-white room with a large worktable. There were several other people around the table. Kate took a seat, and a secretary brought in coffee. Monsieur Bernard smiled appreciatively and took a sip from his steaming cup.
Steepling his hands, he said, “Now that we are all here, Mr. Holbrook, you are one of our biggest fans and one of our most cherished customers. It seems fitting that your long-lost son should also find this watch that we thought was lost to the world.”
Grant still wasn’t sure why his watch was so significant. It didn’t look all that fancy.
“We would like to give some context to the watch, for the young Mr. Holbrook.”
Grant didn’t even have the energy to correct him.
“Madame Alice Moreau will walk you through a brief history.”
“Yes, please explain how this watch disappeared. It looks like one of the aviator prototypes I lost at auction to that Saudi prince,” Walter said.
Grant could detect a hint of annoyance in his father’s tone. He didn’t understand getting so worked up about a watch.
“You see it all works out, though,” Monsieur Bernard said, smiling broadly.
Walter turned to look softly at Grant, but Grant ignored him and looked intently at Alice and the large pictures in her hand.
“Yes,” she said, “this is a Nazi, and he is wearing your watch. This man was a Thuringian prince. I don’t even want to say his name because the crimes he committed were too atrocious to do him that honor. He ran one of the smaller death camps in Poland, and he gave his son”—she pulled out another picture of a younger man with the same strong nose—“the watch before he went to fight on the Eastern Front. The son was an officer in the SS, and the father was very proud of him. The son was killed a few months before the war’s end, by British forces, it was presumed, as the Allies pressed farther into German territory.” She showed a picture that was a grainy blowup of the watch. “We checked with his children, and they didn’t receive it with the body. We therefore assumed it was lost, and we didn’t make a scene about it because Patek, for obvious reasons, does not want to be associated with the Nazi regime in any way.”
“And now the watch is here,” Monsieur Bernard concluded. “May we see it?”
