Wilmington, NC 04 - Murder At Wrightsville Beach

father's family. My female cousins look enough like me to be my sisters. The young ones look just like you, Kelly. There were two aunts left, my father's sisters. My grandparents are gone, passed."
    Ted drained his glass then continued the story. "The family had been writing to the US Army since nineteen forty-eight, inquiring about the whereabouts of their son, Claude. The last they knew he was a POW at the Old Marine Hospital camp here in Wilmington."
    I leaned forward, staring at them intently. " Binkie told me and Devin about Wilmington's World War Two experiences with the POW camps."
    Ted continued, "After Germany surrendered in May 1945, the POWs remained in Wilmington for another year. They weren't shipped back to Europe until April 1946. But since we were no longer at war with Germany, they were allowed to write home. That's how Claude's parents knew where he was. He told them he was in love with an American girl, that her father approved, and was applying for U.S. citizenship for him. He'd never have run away. He said they were expecting a baby and that Peggy's father was happy about that. He told his family that if the U.S. government shipped him back to Europe, he'd go, but then he'd try to return to his new American family."
    "But they weren't shipped directly back to Germany," I said, remembering what Binkie had told me. "There were war reparations to be made to England, and they worked the farms in England for another two years before they were allowed to return to Germany. But what do you mean the paintings are a clue?"
    Babe explained, "I never gave those paintings a thought when I was a small child. They were just there, in the house, all around us. Pretty pictures." She smiled grimly. "I have to admit I was a miserable little tyke. No father, mother died in an institution. Grandpa Joe was good to me but he was a busy man, running the family farm and the store almost single-handed. Uncle J.C. made my life miserable."
    She gave a shiver, remembering. "He was a sneaky, mean adolescent. He'd torment me when my grandfather or the housekeeper weren't around. Called me names like 'the little bastard' and 'the Nazi.' I was too young to know what a bastard was but I knew it was something bad, something to be ashamed of. When I went to school I learned exactly what it meant."
    Kelly snuggled closer to her mother. "Oh, mother, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. What a bunch of small-minded hypocrites you had to contend with. And you an innocent child."
    Babe shrugged. "Those were different times, honey. There was a double standard. But there were a lot of us, children born out of wedlock as it was commonly referred to. Other names, much worse. But most of the women managed to snag returning servicemen so their illegitimate children got step-fathers and some degree of respectability."
    Melanie said, "So J.C. knew you were the POW's daughter. That's why he called you a Nazi. But explain about the paintings."
    "Well, when I was about six, all the paintings disappeared. I didn't ask why. I was just starting school then, that was enough for me to handle. And that was about the time Uncle J.C. started painting. It was also about the time the farm was sold to developers who were building houses for GIs and their families. Now at the time, I didn't realize any this. It has taken me a lifetime to remember the details and piece things together.
    "Grandpa Joe must have given Uncle J.C. a share of the proceeds from the farm sale because as soon as he was eighteen he moved out and got his own place. And then later, he began selling the paintings, and he became very popular and started to make real money. J.C. was counting on me not to remember. And I probably wouldn't have if it hadn't been for finding that photo of my father. In retrospect, Grandpa Joe must have known, but what could he do? J.C. was his only living child."
    "But if J.C.'s signature was forged, whose paintings are they?" I asked.
    "Why, my father's," Babe replied simply. "According to his sisters, he was establishing himself as a fine artist when Hitler started the war and turned everyone's lives upside down."
    Melanie jumped in, "And J.C. stole them, then passed them off as his own. He brought them out slowly, one every year or two."
    "Exactly," Ted contributed.
    "So if that is what Devin and the JAG were investigating, I can see why J.C. got desperate," I said.
    Mickey interjected, "No, Ashley, you've got it wrong. The paintings were merely a clue.