Chapter 13
“First, I think you’ve been watching too much TV,” I said.
“Like I have the time,” Isabella replied.
“We know a lot of these cats escaped to Argentina after the war. Von Markov escapes, changes his name, and starts a new life. All these years later, maybe his grandkid comes poking around, wanting to ask Henrik Strauss about the technology.”
“Fair enough. So you think Klaus Brenner is really Klaus von Markov III?”
“Could be?”
“And he just happened to team up with Rudolph Heissler’s grandson,” she said, thick with doubt.
“Maybe they shared a common interest in their grandparents’ work.”
“Okay. I’m going to send you a photo of von Markov, Heissler, and Strauss taken in 1943. You tell me what you think.”
The image buzzed my phone a moment later.
I took a look at it and stared in disbelief. Klaus von Markov looked identical to Klaus Brenner.
I showed JD.
It was undeniable, but I tried to deny it. “So the grandkids look like their grandparents. Like that’s never happened before. Big deal.”
“I compared that photo to the photo of Rudolph Weiss that you sent me. Facial recognition says they are the same person.”
“The algorithm is wrong.”
“97% certainty.”
“3% is a wide margin.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You don’t really expect me to believe this, do you?”
“Are you familiar with the Philadelphia Experiment?”
“Somewhat.”
“According to the legend, the Navy played around with camouflaging ships in 1943. With electromagnetic field generators and high-voltage Tesla coils, they tried to make a Cannon-class destroyer escort invisible to radar. Witnesses say that once the generators were activated, a greenish mist surrounded the vessel before it vanished from the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard for several minutes. Witnesses claim it appeared momentarily in Norfolk before reappearing in Philadelphia.”
“It’s BS,” I said.
“An eyewitness wrote several letters to an author who became obsessed with the story. Of course, both died mysteriously shortly thereafter. The Navy denies any experiments regarding teleportation or invisibility.”
“Conspiracy theory nonsense,” I said.
“Yeah, well, the file is so classified, even I can’t access it.” Isabella could get to just about anything. “I’m going to keep digging into Projekt Zeispeigel. All I’m saying is to keep your mind open.”
“Always,” I said, before ending the call.
I shared her theory with JD and the sheriff.
Daniels sighed and shook his head. “It’s always something weird with you two.”
“She sounded a little spooked,” I said. “She doesn’t rattle often.”
“Well, if she’s right, the world is about to get weirder,” Daniels said.
I figured it was time to have a word with Henrik Strauss. We left the station and headed over to Blissful Shores. I suspected it was anything but blissful.
Jack found a place to park, and we walked into the main lobby. The place had that mothball scent of slow death. Soiled diapers, disinfectant wipes, and a floral fragrance to cover it all.
I flashed my badge at the reception desk. "Looking for Henrik Strauss.”
The receptionist’s eyes rounded with surprise. "He's not in any trouble, is he?" she asked, half joking.
"We’re investigating a bank robbery," I said, just to get a rise out of her.
Her eyes rounded. "You know he's 98 years old.”
"It's never too late to be who you could have been."
My aspirational tone confused her.
"I’ll have someone show you to his room.” She picked up the phone, and her voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "Kathy to the front desk. Kathy to the front desk." The receptionist addressed us and smiled. "She'll be with you momentarily. Help yourself to some coffee, bottled water, whatever."
There was a small mini fridge with tiny bottles of water and an instant coffee maker on the counter.
JD and I grabbed some water and waited.
Kathy waddled up to the front desk a few minutes later. She shot the receptionist a curious look.
“Could you escort these gentlemen to Henrik Strauss?”
Kathy looked annoyed, but she forced a smile. “Right this way, gentlemen.”
We followed her across the lounge, where several seniors zoned out in front of the TV—some asleep, mouths half open.
I hated these places. Grim and depressing. Someplace I never wanted to be.
“Are you family?” Kathy asked over her shoulder as she led us down a hallway. Her long brunette hair swayed.
“No. We’re with the county.”
“Henry’s a popular guy lately.”
“What do you mean?”
“Two fellas came to see him the other day.”
“What about?”
“I don’t know. I don’t get up in people’s business.”
I pulled out my phone and launched the photo Isabella had sent me. I showed Kathy the image of the trio in their younger days. “Wouldn’t happen to be either of these two gentlemen, would it?”
Kathy studied the photo for an instant, then pointed. “Yeah, those two.”
I shared a look with Jack. Kathy had pointed out von Markov and Heissler.
“Do you know what they talked about?” I asked.
“Like I said, I don’t get up in people’s business.
But I don’t think they talked about much.
Henry is not very talkative. He’s off in his own world most of the time.
Good luck getting anything out of him. The only person who ever comes by to visit is his granddaughter.
She’s here a couple of times a week. But that’s it.
Then, all of a sudden, he gets multiple visits this week. ”
“Has anybody else been by to see him?”
“Not that I know about.”
We reached Henrik’s door.
“Well, here you go. Enjoy.” Kathy spun around and marched back down the hallway.
I gave a gentle knock on the door and stepped into the room.