“Corinne knows everything,” I said, smiling at the picture of Derek’s delightful assistant. She had followed Derek over from his London office last year, and she and her husband had fallen in love with San Francisco.
“Yes, she does,” he agreed.
“So I guess the name Elizabeth wasn’t far from her real name.”
“No.” He set his phone down on the table. “What is your news, love?”
“Claude sent me his translation.”
“Excellent,” he said, pulling out a chair. “Sit and read it to me.”
“I already read you that first paragraph, remember? But I’ll start it there so we can get the full picture.” I began to read Marie’s words from Claude’s translation.
“Dear sister,
“Oh, Camille, I have witnessed something so terrible that I’m almost afraid to tell you about it, but I must get it off my chest.
“First I must say how wonderful it has been having Jean Pierre visit. Anton was so happy to have his best childhood friend here! He’s been so carefree, like the boy I met and fell in love with so many years ago. But in the last two days, the two men have been like strangers to each other, avoiding each other and casting dark looks. Anton refused to tell me what was wrong.
“Then late last night, he rose silently, got dressed, and left the bedroom. I was nervous and decided to follow him. He walked across the vineyards to the cave where they store the wine barrels. I hid outside the entry, afraid that if I went inside, he would see me. I heard someone walking in the brush and ducked down to escape detection. It was Jean Pierre! They were meeting in the cave. Oddly, he carried a suitcase and was dressed for traveling. At three o’clock in the morning!
“I ventured a few feet inside the cave and hid in an alcove near the entry. Anton and Jean Pierre were too wrapped up in an argument to notice me.
“Jean Pierre insisted that he had to give everything back. But Anton . . . Oh, Camille, you know how he can be. His mind is no longer right. Every day he grows more afraid that the Nazis will arrive in California and kill us and take our possessions. It isn’t reasonable, of course, but somehow he believes his dark dreams more than he believes the newspapers and news reports. I’m terrified that the war has taken a grave toll on Anton that he will never recover from.
“But back to the argument. Jean Pierre kept shouting at Anton, telling him he couldn’t keep those things; they didn’t belong to him.
“And Anton was shouting back, telling Jean Pierre that he had shared the secret with his beloved childhood friend and no one else. He trusted Jean Pierre. And now he was threatening to betray him.
“At first, I didn’t understand what they were talking about. Then Anton promised he would give the precious treasures back after the war was over. Jean Pierre shouted that the war was over and it was time to return everything. But Anton swore that the Nazis were poised to attack again at any moment.
“They continued to talk back and forth about the Nazis, the villagers’ belongings, the artwork and cherished bits of silver that they had entrusted us with.
“Anton told me he had already sent everything back to the village. But instead he hid it all away, thinking the Nazis would track him down and take it if he didn’t. He lied to me, Camille. Did he think I would turn him over to the Nazis or something equally evil? Does he not trust his own wife? Is he so sick in his mind that he believes his own words? I was praying that with Jean Pierre’s arrival, things would be straightened out and poor Anton would come to his senses. But instead they argued incessantly. Jean Pierre knew my husband better than anyone in the world, and instead of helping him, instead of understanding his sickness, he accused Anton of stealing and lying about it.
“‘I have packed my bag,’ Jean Pierre said, ‘and I’m taking with me the one thing from your home that always meant the most to both of us.’
“‘Not the book,’ Anton shouted. ‘Give it to me.’
“‘No. You are breaking the blood bond we’ve had from the age of seven. You are no longer my blood brother.’
“‘You are the one breaking it! But I will always be your blood brother, and you will be mine, no matter what you say.’
“‘I wash my hands of you.’
“‘No!’ Anton screamed the word. ‘You have to help me. I’m so afraid.’
“I could hear Anton sobbing, Camille. The sound stabbed at my heart. My poor broken husband.
“‘I can’t help you, Anton,’ Jean Pierre said. ‘You’ve lied to everyone. I’ve only come back to the cave to salvage what little I can and return it to our friends.’