Chapter 27
Eberhard wondered what Lieutenant Hesse wanted from him so urgently. H hadn’t given so much as a hint on the telephone. Despite the oppressive August heat, he slipped into his jacket and hat, turned the sign on his office door to “Closed” and walked down to the street.
Seeing other Jews scurrying through the streets in fear, he realized once again how lucky he was to be exempt from the obligation to wear the star.
Walking quickly, staring fixedly at the ground so as not to see the harassment his fellow Jews had to endure, he strode to the tram stop. It pained him every time he had to witness a fellow Jewish citizen being harassed, spat at or even beaten, without being able to intervene.
His own situation was too precarious already.
If the police demanded his papers, they’d do the same to him.
Arriving at the Bendlerblock, he showed his permanent pass and walked straight to Lieutenant Hesse’s office.
H was with another man whom Eberhard didn’t know.
Both were sitting in their shirt sleeves at the desk, their uniform jackets hanging neatly on hangers on the coat rack.
At Eberhard’s knock at the open door, Lieutenant Hesse raised his head, gave a friendly smile and said, “Herr Lange, come in, and close the door, please.”
“Good morning, Lieutenant Hesse.”
“This is Sergeant Emil Kunze from the foreign exchange department,” Hesse introduced the other man, before adding, “May I help you out of your jacket? It’s terribly humid in here.”
Eberhard thanked him, but declined the offer, as he preferred to be dressed appropriately at all times, and didn’t care for this modern custom of conducting business in shirtsleeves.
“Please have a seat. May I offer you a coffee?”
At Eberhard’s nod, H spoke into the intercom on his desk and ordered three cups of coffee, which were served shortly afterward by a young woman.
A noticeable tension filled the room. Trying to fathom the reason, Eberhard’s gaze wandered back and forth between the two men.
Finally, Hesse cleared his throat. “I’ve asked to see you to discuss the latest developments. Last week I travelled to Switzerland to meet the chief of the Immigration Police about your entry visas.”
The way Hesse spoke raised goosebumps on Eberhard’s arm, despite the heat of the day. Unsure of how to respond, he tilted his head as a sign that he’d understood.
After a while, Hesse continued, “I shan’t beat about the bush. The issue is this: the Swiss have agreed to our request in principle, although on one condition.”
A thousand emotions coursed through Eberhard’s body. This was how his clients must feel before the judge pronounced a sentence.
“They are demanding proof of means to support yourselves for the duration of your stay in Switzerland, to the tune of one hundred thousand US dollars.”
Hesse’s words exploded like a bomb in Eberhard’s mind. All of a sudden, the oxygen seemed to have been sucked out of the room, leaving Eberhard to gasp frantically for air. When he finally gained control of his voice, he croaked, “That’s a very large sum.”
It was Sergeant Kunze’s turn to speak. “We have already started to put measures in place. But you will understand that it’s not easy.
In particular, we must maintain the highest level of secrecy.
Despite the complexity of the situation, we cannot afford to waste any time, since the Swiss may withdraw their unofficial commitment at any time. ”
Eberhard swallowed hard. Just yesterday, he’d been confident of their success, but this news extinguished any glimmer of hope.
Ten years ago, although not exactly rich, he’d been modestly wealthy.
But now? His remaining Jewish clients paid in instalments – or not at all; his financial situation was unpleasant, to say the least.
Lieutenant Hesse took over. “Our proposal may sound unconventional, but please hear us out before you give an answer.”
“Certainly.” Eberhard eyed him earnestly, with a growing sense that he wouldn’t like the suggestion.
“I’m sure you are familiar with the decree that the entirety of a Jewish person’s assets fall to the German Reich as soon as they leave the country.”
“I am indeed acquainted with that particular iniquitous law, which will undoubtedly be revoked after the war. Most of my clients have been affected by it.”
“What will happen after the war is something none of us can predict. What we know for certain is that all material goods belonging to you and your fellow travelers will fall to the Reich as soon as you cross the border into Switzerland, at which point you won’t have the means of supporting yourselves. ”
“I’ve thought about that. My hope is to find paid employment soon after we arrive.”
“The Swiss authorities don’t seem to want that. There’s a strict ban on refugees taking up work.”
This was the first Eberhard had heard of this, and it would ruin his plan. He waited miserably for the next blow to fall.
“Since your assets will fall to the state anyway, and will be confiscated by the Gestapo or released for auction, it was suggested that you hand over all possessions to the Abwehr before you leave.”
“Absolutely not.” Eberhard leapt up. “This is blackmail. Robbery. I will never agree to this.”
“That was exactly the reaction I was afraid of,” said Hesse.
“Then why did you suggest this iniquitous horse-trading to me? Are you just another thief trying to enrich yourself out of Jewish people’s plight? I honestly believed you were better than that.”
Lieutenant Hesse was taken aback. “Please, sit back down and let me explain the proposal calmly.”
Scowling, Eberhard sat down again.
“As the latest law states, you will lose access to all your assets once you cross the border.”
“Unjustly,” growled Eberhard. Like most emigrants, he hoped to recover his confiscated property after the Nazis had been defeated. If, on the other hand, he voluntarily transferred his assets to the Abwehr, they’d be difficult to reclaim. He understood that much, even without a law qualification.
“The Abwehr will advance the one hundred thousand US dollars from a secret fund in Switzerland, but in order to avoid suspicion, we must replace the amounts withdrawn. My colleague Kunze, who is a foreign exchange expert, is in charge of the financial transactions.”
Kunze spoke again. “Let’s take your practice, for example.
The rooms are your property. According to my information, you have significant receivables.
As soon as you have transferred ownership to the Abwehr, we will appoint a trustee to wind up the practice.
The apartment will be rented, the furniture sold, receivables collected.
All proceeds will be used exclusively to replace the guarantee sum. ”
Eberhard took a deep breath. He hated the idea.
Hated it intensely. Though he had to admit that it sounded reasonable.
As long as Hitler was in power, he couldn’t return to Germany – and even afterward, he might not want to.
Nobody knew how long the war would last, and at over fifty years old, Eberhard was no longer a young man.
A fresh start in Switzerland, or anywhere else, was bad enough, but to go through that a second time after a return to Germany, where so many ugly memories would be waiting for him…
He had loved being German, until he’d been expelled from the national community.
Since then, he’d lost all sense of belonging, any belief in the good in his fellow citizens.
For the rest of his life, he would carry the pain inside him whenever he met someone from his past who’d taken the side of the Nazis.
Sometimes it was better to make a fresh start.
A clean cut from all the ties to his old life.
“I agree.” He surprised himself as he said it.
Even Hesse and Kunze stared, nonplussed. “Just like that?”
“On the condition that the assets handed over benefit our group exclusively.”
“They will,” Hesse assured him. “It may take a while – we won’t be able to liquidate all items immediately, but any proceeds will be offset by our foreign exchange department against the advanced deposit. Any amounts in excess of it will be paid to you as soon as is convenient.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve found ways to circumvent the strict exchange controls,” said Kunze with a proud expression. “However, it can only be done gradually and in small amounts.”
Eberhard scrutinized the two men. They were risking a lot to get him and his fellow sufferers out of the country. If the worst should happen, they would be put in a concentration camp. “I trust you.”
“Thank you.” Hesse’s smile radiated honesty. “Will you talk to the others?”
“Certainly. I’ll draw up a contract and get back to you next week. If there’s nothing further to discuss, I shall take my leave.” Eberhard looked at Hesse with a raised eyebrow.
“That was all. I’ll inform the Swiss authorities; in the meantime you can settle the contractual matters directly with Sergeant Kunze.”
“Goodbye.” Eberhard gave a hint of a bow. Minutes later, he was standing on the street in front of the Bendlerblock, wondering what would be the fastest way to inform the other group members. Apart from him, none of them was allowed to use public transport and they no longer had a telephone.
He decided to use his daughter Johanna and his wife Selma as couriers to invite the others to a meeting the following afternoon at his office.
The next morning, he set off with his wife and daughter.
“What’s this news you’re being so mysterious about?” Johanna asked, not for the first time.
He grinned. “You’re going to have to be patient, like everyone else.”
Pouting, she trotted beside him. Once again, he observed how different the experience was of walking through the streets with two people wearing stars, compared to walking alone, unidentified.