Sullivan is a specialist at bringing readers to life through poetry and well-regarded works like “Stalin’s Daughter” and “Villa Air-Bel,” which describe a safe home in Marseille during World War II.
Along with journalist/researcher Pieter van Twisk and filmmaker Thijs Bayens, Pieter van Twisk is one of Sullivan’s travelling companions.
In 2016, Bayens and van Twisk employed Vince Pankoke, a retired FBI agent from Florida who “still appeared to be living undercover, a decent, unassuming man in a guayabera shirt.”
As the story went on, it became clear that the cold case detectives had assembled a global team of specialists in criminology, behavioural, computer, social, and psychological sciences, as well as psychologists, a handwriting expert, a rabbi, and many other disciplines. Additionally, if you have any information, they would like to hear from you.
A Cold Case Investigation: Anne Frank by Rosemary Sullivan
In addition to traditional schoolboy reporting, a Microsoft-created artificial intelligence technology has been used in conjunction with contemporary big-data methodologies. They have proof, as a young college student might remark, thanks to the scrupulous record-keeping of the German bounty hunters.
“The Betrayal of Anne Frank” has a procedural or mystery structure, but it is dripping with genuine history, sentimental humanity, and fury.
It quickly advances the concept of “partnership” across eight decades and almost 400 pages, moving from dark and menacing criminality to a noble goal with algorithmic openness.
As Sullivan so dryly puts it, “the degree of hatred among the numerous stakeholder in the Anne Frank legacy” astounded us.
The Anne Frank Foundation, one of Otto Frank’s organisations, which is based in Basel, Switzerland, has long fought to safeguard its ownership of the convoluted international copyright for the diaries and has declined to work with the cold case team.
At an early meeting, a trustee even screamed that the name Anne could not be used by the investigators. That seems to be implied in her title. Sullivan discovered it to be more beneficial when it came to the Anne Frank Foundation’s initiatives to turn the Prinsengracht 263 into a well-liked museum.
A “suspiciously interested” warehouse manager and his reputed gossipy wife have been mentioned as potential informants.
According to several interpretations, Job Jansen, a former worker who accused Otto Frank of treachery for speculating that the Third Reich might lose the war, and Anton Ahlers, a “shady guy” and a “opportunist,” could possibly be potential spies.
Additional suspects included Nelly Voskuijl, the sister of a woman who helped hide the Franks, who went along with the enemy and had fainting spells, and Ans van Dijk, a Jewish “V-Frau” who approached Jews to avoid being deported himself.
One historian said that no informant was required. The police may have accidentally discovered a secret annex while looking for forgeries or workplace violations hidden beneath a moving bookshelf.
In Sullivan’s stories, all these possibilities revolve around Sullivan like Agatha Christie did with Zoom and a time machine.
The town square’s combination of everyday life and tragedy may be seen in small details like what occurred when Abraham Puls’ moving company arrived to pick up the belongings of deportees; sleeping neighbours referred to this as being pumped (pulsed).