Father of France

Chapter 98 Father-in-law's Suicide
Among these artifacts, musical instruments like pianos are not of much value; the more noteworthy items are cultural relics such as oil paintings and antiques.

During wartime, the value of cultural relics is at its lowest point, and the only place where they can be sold is the United States, which was not affected by the war. Therefore, for the sake of maximizing profits, it is most appropriate to preserve them until all countries have restored them.

“That makes sense, so I’ll reply like that.” Alan then asked, “But not everything is easy to preserve; oil paintings are easily damaged.”

"That's true, but it's worth preserving works of art properly, especially since we're French."

Koman straightened his back and said, "In ten or twenty years, these wartime artifacts, which were worthless, could potentially increase in value dozens of times. Especially the artifacts from the East."

Koeman's statement doesn't mean that artifacts from other civilizations are fake; it simply means that there are more fakes among them.

Moreover, not all counterfeit goods are the same; a considerable number of counterfeit goods themselves have significant value.

For example, bamboo slips unearthed in the great Eastern country were initially thought to be from the Spring and Autumn Period, but after many years they were re-identified as Han Dynasty bamboo slips.

Is this a fake? If we use the standards of the early Spring and Autumn Period, then of course it's a fake. But aren't Han Dynasty bamboo slips cultural relics? They are cultural relics, aren't they?

Even if it's a fake from hundreds of years ago, it still has great value. Koeman mentions the great Eastern power from a developmental perspective. If the great Eastern power develops smoothly in the future, it will begin to reclaim its lost cultural relics, and the wealth of individuals who possess these relics will increase accordingly.

This is something that Egypt and Iraq cannot do. Without a mother country chasing after cultural relics for recycling, even if the cultural relics in that country are genuine, they will not be worth anything.

In terms of profitability, the cultural relics of the great Eastern power will not be of much value in the next twenty years. Koeman should now collect cultural relics from Japan, another member of the Axis powers, from all over Germany.

After Japan's economic boom, as a pioneering country in East Asia for testing the use of cultural relics, it was among the first to conduct cultural relic recovery.

At both the national and private levels, Japan has been pursuing the recovery of cultural relics for a long time. Before the bubble economy, patriotic Japanese businessmen often spent lavishly at international auctions.

However, with the arrival of the bubble economy, the Japanese themselves were struggling to survive and stopped pursuing the return of cultural relics. Having lost their mother country as a major buyer, Japanese cultural relics returned to normal prices.

Therefore, when it comes to cultural relics, it's not about their actual value, but about the value of their buyers. And who is the biggest buyer right now? It's the United States, of course.

“There’s a very famous painter who lives in Paris now. We’ll talk to him after we finish our work.”

Koeman racked his brains for names of famous living artists and actually found one. This person wasn't French, but had lived in France for a long time and had already become famous worldwide.

As Alan wrote his reply to Martin, he asked without looking up, "Who is it?"

“Picasso, when we get back to Paris we’ll consider talking to him about holding an exhibition in the US,” Coleman said excitedly, hoping to collect some “intelligence tax” from the US.

Koeman wasn't very familiar with the classification of painting, but Picasso was probably one of the last painters in the world to achieve widespread fame, as far as he could remember.

He didn't know who the world's greatest painter of the 21st century was, but he could remember Picasso's name, which shows that Picasso, like that famous group photo of physicists from 1927, was at least photographically presentable in the field of painting.

Putting aside Picasso's own artistic skill, it's certain that he was a painter who was very good at managing his reputation and had a great pursuit of material wealth.

At the same time, he was also very well-known in the United States, so Picasso would not refuse any opportunity to increase his fame if needed.

Picasso's path to becoming a painter is the complete opposite of Van Gogh's. Although the two are separated by hundreds of years, Van Gogh and Picasso became famous around the same time. In fact, Corman can confirm that Van Gogh is not as famous as Picasso at present. He will only be widely accepted after others establish his image as a suffering genius.

Organizing an exhibition of Picasso's paintings wasn't because Corman suddenly developed an artistic flair, but because he didn't understand it. If he, as an ordinary person, didn't understand it, then most people probably wouldn't understand either, how Picasso gained his fame.

Picasso's fame was indeed so great that it attracted a large number of people, especially in the United States, a country with little cultural heritage but which had just become a world superpower.

Americans, who lack cultural depth, can't maintain their filter of European civilization for long. While the filter still exists, the goal is to quickly and successfully collect the "intelligence tax" from the American market, but it can't be too obvious. Directly pushing Chanel into the American market is definitely not an option, but a Picasso exhibition would be a suitable test.

While Dönitz was taken away by the Allies, Himmler was still in hiding. Unlike his wife and daughters, who had been intercepted by Koeman, he did not even escape Germany.

Himmler knew his fame and appearance drew considerable attention, so he had to disguise himself to conceal his identity. He wore a coarse cloth soldier's uniform—without rank insignia or the SS eagle badge. His current identification was that of a retired soldier named Heinrich Hitzinger.

Veterans are not uncommon in Germany today, but the strictness of the checks they faced was still unexpected. Long queues formed in front of the checkpoints, mostly refugees trying to reach Denmark. British soldiers checked documents one by one, occasionally picking out suspicious individuals to take them to a nearby shed for a body search.

Although the identification he carried was authentic enough—after all, it was made by the SS and was, in a sense, genuine—the rigorous inspection still made Himmler nervous, though he didn't show it.

Finally, it was his turn. The moment Himmler handed over his identification, he couldn't help but sizing up the twenty-year-old young man in front of him, who now held the power of life and death over him. Himmler felt a pang of irony.

The corporal held the badge up to the sunlight to check the watermark. Himmler's stomach clenched. He should have passed; so many people had gotten away with it, even Bowman probably had…

"Wait a minute." The corporal suddenly turned and walked towards the outpost. Under the watchful eyes of at least twenty soldiers nearby, he didn't think the person whose ID was being checked would run away.

In fact, Himmler did not run away. Not long after, the corporal returned with a captain. The captain had a typical British dry humor and was holding Himmler's identification.

“We need to conduct a simple check,” the captain said softly, his hand on his holster. “We just need to confirm that you are Heinrich Himmler.”

Himmler's head buzzed. He knew he had been discovered, but the other party hadn't confirmed it yet. After a moment, he decided to wait and see. What if? People are always lenient with themselves. With a bit of wishful thinking, Himmler nodded and said he would cooperate with the inspection.

At this point, the answer was obvious; the British soldiers simply wanted to confirm it to demonstrate the rigor and procedural fairness of the British military.

Himmler sat in the seat he had seen countless times before, the one being judged. He didn't know that his daughter had also been looked at in the same way by his French son-in-law, except that Koeman would let his daughter go, but today no one would let Himmler go.

“Admit it,” the British colonel sitting opposite him pushed a stack of photos toward him. “These photos can prove your identity. The current inspection is just a waste of time.”

Himmler's fame was so great and his image so memorable that a simple comparison with a photograph was enough for the British to know who they had captured that day.

Himmler's glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose. He tried to push them up, but his bound wrists wouldn't move. In that instant, he realized with absolute clarity that it was all over.

It's all wishful thinking to try to escape now. Just over ten days ago, the Führer and the Propaganda Minister committed suicide in Berlin. Now it's his turn. Compared to the gallows, ending one's own life at all would at least preserve some dignity.

Himmler bit down hard on the glass capsule, the sound of it shattering echoing in his skull, the bitter almond flavor instantly filling his mouth. He rolled off the chair, convulsing and curling up on the floor.

Amidst the shocked cries of the British, Himmler's body was pulled by an unseen force. A warm liquid flowed from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth.

Death came sooner than expected; Himmler had already left this world before the British doctors arrived.

Koeman unfolded the report in Le Monde, the French newspaper. The headline read that Dönitz had been taken away by the Allies, marking the formal end of the Greater German Reich. He then looked at a report in the corner.

"What's the news today?" Alan leaned closer to read. "Didn't they already surrender? Why are they reporting it again now?"

"This report is about the dissolution of the German government, officially stating that there is no longer a government in Germany." Koeman looked at the unidentified report about Himmler's suicide in the lower right corner and muttered in Chinese, "My father-in-law is dead."

Now Koeman is considering whether to tell Gudrun Himmler, but if he tries to keep it a secret, he won't be able to for long, and Gudrun Himmler will find out sooner or later.

“Alan, I have a friend…” At this moment, Koeman decided to abandon his usual independent thinking and share the problem with his comrade-in-arms to make a decision together.

"Coman, is the friend you mentioned yourself?" Alan asked doubtfully after listening. "You've lived in Damascus for so long, I should know everyone here, how come I've never heard of you?"

“I’ve made up my mind.” Coman realized he had overstepped his bounds, and it proved to be best to make the decision alone. “I’m going to visit the war orphans.”

Alan watched Koman's retreating figure. It was true that she was a war orphan, but didn't that daughter have a mother? She wasn't considered an orphan.

(End of this chapter)