“They were crafted in the mid-eighteenth century, over a period of years, it seems, by a Viennese jeweler for a wealthy land-owning family in Royal Hungary— the Balatons. They were known for their horses and Tokay wine and, from the latter years of the nineteenth century through World War II, were one of the few aristocratic families clamoring for reform of Hungary’s outmoded political and economic system.”

Ashley nodded as another piece fell neatly into place...further condemning her uncle. Hadn’t anywhere, anytime, anyone but Barky lied?

Evan went on. “The Balatons were respected and tolerated for their reformist tendencies during the conservative regime that was in power during the interwar period, and they managed to get away with redistributing some of their own vast land holdings, with the idea that others would see that it was not only a just but a perfectly reasonable thing to do. When the regime collaborated with Nazi Germany, however, the Balatons began to have their problems.”

“They were anti-Nazi?”

“Vehemently so. Then the Hungarian fascists, a small fanatical group that apparently had little popular support, were placed in power toward the end of the war—”

“When the Germans occupied Hungary in late 1944,” Ashley added.

Evan was impressed. “You’re familiar with this period?”

“I’ve had a crash course, you might say. What does this have to do with the jewels?”

“I’m getting to that. You see, with the German occupation came a virulent campaign against the thousands of Jews in Hungary. They were rounded up, marched out and slaughtered. Count István Balaton set up a network to hide Jews and smuggle them out of the country, but he was exposed and executed, along with perhaps two dozen Jews then in hiding near Balaton Castle. Apparently they were tortured in front of him, and then he was killed.”

“How awful.”

“The story doesn’t get any prettier, I’m afraid. When the Germans were defeated, Hungary was faced with permanent occupation by the Soviet Union. The Balatons were in favor of their country introducing long-overdue land and economic reform and becoming a neutral democratic republic, as became the case with Austria. Young Count András Balaton returned from fighting with the Resistance in Yugoslavia, and what was left of the Balaton family prepared to do their part to oust the Soviets. But in 1947, while the Communists were consolidating their power, a band of thugs broke into Balaton Castle. The count was away at the time, but his mother, his two sisters and his young brother were brutally murdered.”

“Good God.”

“Horrifying, isn’t it?”

“How did you find all this out?”

Evan shifted some papers on his desk, an apparent attempt to dispel some of the melancholy that had invaded the room. “As it turns out, a young Hungarian historian came to see me. He’s been working on the restoration of Balaton Castle for tourism. He recognized the tiara and choker and flew at once to New York.” Evan gave a wry smile. “Apparently he has access to decadent Western magazines. He told me the whole horrid tale. He’s a bit of an ideologue, but I don’t doubt the facts of the case—only his interpretation. The jewelry expert I contacted was able to confirm that the remaining jewels from the safe-deposit box, as well as the tiara and choker, belonged to the Balaton collection.”