Braun held up his hand to interrupt. “Tell me as much as you can remember of the Germans in the village—when they came, any names you might remember. I know you remember that day on the lake with the most clarity, but details leading up to that might be very helpful to us.”

Morgen nodded. He took a sip of his tea and gazed thoughtfully up at the chandelier for a moment “At first, the Nazis came to Alt Aussee in small numbers and with great secrecy. Hitler had visited Alt Aussee, had hiked the trails in the hills above the town, and eaten at the inn’s table with the townspeople. He had even bought a worthless piece of land on Habersam Mountain whose only merit was an abandoned salt mine that ran deep into the earth. Then came the war and Nazis in great numbers.

“We—the townspeople—were banished from the area around the old salt mine at Habersam Mountain. The SS built quarters there for more than two hundred fifty men, all restricted to their billets and forbidden to talk with outsiders. Supplies and replacements for the soldiers came through town in covered lorries. Dignitaries flew into the airfield at Bad Aussee and sped recklessly through town in long sleek autos with curtains to hide the identities of their occupants. Just before Christmas 1941, a rumor swept the village that Hitler himself had paid a secret visit to the mine.

“All of us in the village were grateful that the SS kept to themselves. But nothing could still the endless speculation about what the Nazis were doing with the old salt mine at Habersam Mountain. Curiosity led many to the very edge of the forbidden zone, but all they ever saw was a garrison occupying an alpine meadow, guarding the entrance to an unremarkable salt mine.

“One theory guessed it was a hideout for SS officials in case the war turned against the Reich. Others ventured that it was one more underground laboratory manufacturing Hitler’s promised secret weapon. On the face of it, either guess was not preposterous. The cool alabaster white corridors of Alt Aussee’s Salzbergwerk were deep enough to be impervious to any known weapon. The mines were stable, not subject to cave-ins, and maintained a constant temperature and humidity that was not inimical to human comfort. They were, in short, an ideal place to hide almost anything safely.”

Morgen drank the last of his tea and was satisfied to see the cardinal play gracious host and refill it for him.

“Thank you,” Morgen said. Braun nodded.

“The Salzbergwerk at Habersam Mountain remained the only Nazi presence in the hills surrounding Alt Aussee until lorries and boxcars full of priceless art, statuary, rare books, manuscripts, and religious icons began arriving in 1945,” Morgen continued.

“As you know, Hitler had looted the greatest public and private art collections in the occupied countries to enrich the permanent collection of der Fuhrermuseum. He envisioned this as a magnificent structure to be constructed in the grimy industrial city of linz, Austria, his boyhood home. Hitler, the frustrated artist, wanted to build the greatest art museum of all time so that his hometown would never forget him. But Allied bombers had interrupted the Fuhrer’s plans, and so he rushed his collection to the salt mines of the Salzammergut for protection against the almost daily raids.