“I can’t imagine...” I run my fingers down the edge of my cape. “You said Annika told your uncle a story.”
Dr. Nemeth glances away, looking at the display window of the stationery store across the street before turning back to me. “My uncle Leo was sent to Austria’s lake country as a military photographer in 1945. His job was to document some of the valuable items and artwork that the Nazis dumped when they were fleeing from the Allies.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “They stayed at one of Hitler’s former youth camps, on the banks of Lake Hallstatt.”
I lean forward. “Schloss Schwansee?”
“Exactly.” He takes a small photo album out of his bag and sets it on the balloon book. “Uncle Leo took a number of photographs for Uncle Sam in the 1940s. Before his death, he gave his personal photographs to me.”
I open the cover and begin scanning through the black-and-white photos. Most are pictures of uniformed soldiers smiling—over their recent victory, I suspect. Several are of the mountains; one appears to be the entrance to a mine.
And then there’s a woman holding the hand of a young child, an old manor house behind them with a medieval-looking turret and wall mottled with black. The woman is standing in the shadows as if she’s unaware that Leo is taking her picture. Her hair is short, cut above her shoulders, her eyes covered with sunglasses, and she’s wearing a skirt and short-sleeved blouse, a handkerchief around the collar.
I point to the charred side of the house. “Was there a fire?”
“It was probably bombed during the war.”
I look back up at Dr. Nemeth. “Is this—?”
He slips the photograph out of the sleeve, and when he turns it over, I catch my breath. One word is scrawled in ink across the back.
Annika.
Goosebumps ripple across my arms.
“Her father had been the caretaker of the castle, and after his death, her husband took over the care of the estate.”
“What was her husband’s name?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “If Uncle Leo found out, he never told me.”
Dr. Nemeth slides the photo back under its protective covering. “Annika said two Nazi officials came to Schloss Schwansee near the end of the war. They dumped boxes of valuable items into the lake.”
My heart beats faster. “She kept a record of what they were trying to hide.”
“Perhaps.”
“Did your uncle’s company find anything in Lake Hallstatt?”
“They discovered a number of items hidden in a local mine, but his division never found anything in the water. Their diving equipment wasn’t nearly as sophisticated as it is today.”
More kids pour from the store, but my focus remains on the professor. “And you’ve been wondering about it ever since.”
He nods. “I wrote my dissertation about ownerless treasure in Austria.”
“Ownerless?”
“It’s what the Nazis called everything they stole from the Jewish people.” He takes another sip of coffee. “I’ve wanted to search for what they dumped in this lake since I was about Ella’s age, but Annika, I think, is the key to finding it.”
“Why haven’t you searched for the treasure before?” I ask.
“I was supposed to go, about ten years ago. My journey since then has been a bit... complicated.” He glances down at the photograph. “Have you ever been to Austria?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never been out of the United States.”
“But you know German?”
“Ein bisschen.”
Ella steps outside, and Dr. Nemeth pulls out a chair for his daughter. She sits like a proper adult except her legs keep swinging under the table, back and forth as if they’re keeping time. She reaches for the balloon book, but her father pulls it away and nods toward the chocolate that’s no longer hot.
