The Girl You Left Behind

the sixth of November 1945, entitled “How
     I became the Governor of Berchtesgaden”, which, we contend, demonstrates how
     Louanne Baker, a humble reporter, came, by extremely unorthodox means, to own a modern
     masterpiece.’
    The court hushes and the journalists lean
     forwards, pens readied against their notebooks. Christopher Jenks begins to read:
‘Wartime prepares you for a
     lot of things
.
But little prepared me for the day I found myself
     Governor of Berchtesgaden, and of Goering’s haul of some one hundred
     million dollars’ worth of stolen art.’
    The young reporter’s voice echoes
     across the years, plucky, capable. She comes ashore with the ScreamingEagles on Omaha Beach. She is stationed with them near Munich. She records the
     thoughts of young soldiers who have never before spent time from home, the smoking, the
     bravado, the surreptitious wistfulness. And then one morning she watches the troops go
     out, headed for a prisoner-of-war camp some miles away, and finds herself in charge of
     two marines and a fire truck. ‘“The US Army could not allow even the
     possibility of an accident while such treasures were in its custody.”’ She
     tells of Goering’s apparent passion for art, the evidence of years of systematic
     looting within the building’s walls, her relief when the US Army came back and she
     could relinquish responsibility for its haul.
    And then Christopher Jenks pauses.
‘When I left, the sergeant told me I could take with me a souvenir, as a
     thank-you for what he said was my “patriotic duty”. I did, and I
     still have it today – a little memento of the strangest day of my
     life.’
    He stands, raising his eyebrows. ‘Some
     souvenir.’
    Angela Silver is on her feet.
     ‘Objection. There is nothing in that article that says the memento was
The
     Girl You Left Behind
.’
    ‘It is an extraordinary coincidence
     that she mentions being allowed to remove an item from the warehouse.’
    ‘The article does not at any point
     state that the item was a painting. Let alone this particular painting.’
    ‘Sustained.’
    Angela Silver is at the bench. ‘My
     lord, we have examined the records from Berchtesgaden and there is nowritten record of this painting having come from the Collection Point storage
     facility. It appears on none of the lists or inventories from that time. It is therefore
     specious for my colleague here to make the association.’
    ‘It has already been documented here
     that during wartime there are always things that go unrecorded. We have heard expert
     testimony that there are works of art that were never recorded as having been stolen
     during wartime that have later turned out to be so.’
    ‘My lord, if my learned friend is
     stating that
The Girl You Left Behind
was a looted painting at Berchtesgaden,
     then the burden of proof still falls on the claimants to establish beyond doubt that
     this painting was actually there in the first place. There is no hard evidence that it
     formed part of that collection.’
    Jenks shakes his head. ‘In his
own
     statement
David Halston said that when he bought it Louanne Baker’s
     daughter told him she had acquired the painting in 1945 in Germany. She could offer no
     provenance and he didn’t know enough about the art market to be aware that he
     should have demanded it.
    ‘It seems extraordinary that a
     painting that had disappeared from France during a time of German occupation, that was
     recorded as having been coveted by a German
Kommandant
, should then reappear in
     the home of a woman who had just returned from Germany, was on record as saying she had
     brought home with her a precious memento from that trip and would never go there
     again.’
    The courtroom is silent. Along the bench, a
     dark-haired woman in lime green is alert, leaning forwards, her big, gnarled hands
     resting on the back of the bench in frontof her. Liv wonders where
     she has seen her before. The woman shakes her head emphatically. There are lots of older
     people in the public benches: how many of them remember this war personally? How many
     lost paintings of their own?
    Angela Silver addresses the judge.
     ‘Again, m’ lord, this is all circumstantial. There are no specific
     references in this article to a painting. A memento, as it is referred to here, could
     have been simply a soldier’s badge or a pebble. This court must make its judgment
     solely on evidence. In not one piece of this evidence