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would be worth now. But I’m not looking for it because of its value. That painting has sentimental value to my family.”
    “When was it stolen?”
    “I don’t know that it was stolen.”
    I cocked my head. “It wasn’t stolen, but it’s missing.”
    She nodded. “The last time I saw the painting was right after the Nazis came into Vienna. It was March, 1938.” Her eyes grew distant as she remembered. “I couldn’t believe how excited everyone was about it…how the crowds shouted with joy. They thought Hitler was some kind of savior. But we Jews almost immediately began to lose our rights.”
    “You said your last name is Cohen?”
    “Yes. I’m Jewish.”
    I nodded. “So, it’s been over seventeen years since you saw the painting,” I reiterated. “That’s a long time ago.”
    She tipped her head in acknowledgment. “I am aware of that.”
    “And at that time, you were where?”
    “In Austria.”
    “You escaped from there?”
    “Yes, with my parents and my two brothers.”
    “How did you get out?”
    She drew in a breath and let it out very slowly. “Have you heard of the Halloways?”
    I shrugged. “Sure.” If you lived in Denver and you paid any attention to the news at all, you heard of the name “Halloway”. “They’re rich, and they do all kinds of charity work…like helping Jewish families during the war. It was in the papers not long ago.”
    “That’s correct.” Her lips pressed into a hard line. “If it weren’t for the Halloways, I wouldn’t be here, and neither would my family.” She looked past me and that faraway look flickered in her eyes.
    I waited a moment, then said, “Ma’am?”
    “Oh, yes,” she said, then quietly cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, this is very hard.” She took another deep breath and continued, her accent growing thicker the longer she talked. “It was toward the end of March and we were living in a small town outside of Vienna. My father was a doctor and at one time, we were quite wealthy. That didn’t matter once the Nazis took over, and we knew we had to get out. But it was very difficult to get a visa to leave the country. We’d heard about another family, the Adlers, who had been helped by an American family, the Halloways. It took some time, but we finally connected with the Halloways, specifically Mr. Halloway. He visited us in Austria, and after that another man came to see us. His name was Earl Trevaine. He worked for Mr. Halloway. Mr. Trevaine eventually provided us with the necessary paperwork to leave the country. I don’t know how they managed it, but they did.” She cleared her throat again. “It took some time to get the papers in order, and it was a very frightening time, because if any of this was discovered, we would’ve been killed. The waiting, that was the hardest part. And then, when we finally left Austria, it all happened very fast. We knew nothing of the day and time when we would leave, but we had to wait to hear from Mr. Trevaine. One day he showed up with our paperwork and we left. We took only what we could carry in some suitcases.”
    “So you left the painting behind,” I said.
    “Not quite.”
    “What happened?”
    “Once we knew that we might be leaving the country, we arranged to have the painting shipped out of the country.”
    “How did you manage that?” I asked. “I would think Jews wouldn’t have been able to do that.”
    “That’s true. But my father had heard about a man named John Milner who helped people ship their belongings out of the country.”
    “And Milner was an associate of Mr. Trevaine’s?”
    She shook her head. “No, Mr. Trevaine didn’t know anything about it. My father heard about some other Jews who had sneaked valuables out. He kept asking people about how to do it. No one wanted to say anything, but word must’ve gotten out, because one day Mr. Milner showed up at our house.” She paused and let out a long breath. “I don’t think I trusted him, but my father