Chapter 31
Eberhard gazed at Selma, who was struggling with tears as four furniture removers carried every item of value out of their apartment, including the piano she had so loved to play.
Even the antique bureau and the pictures on the wall were packed, along with their good porcelain, the beautiful champagne flutes, the linen sheets – everything that had a value, however insignificant, had been loaded into the removal van to be taken to the auction house.
“Don’t fret,” he said, in an attempt to comfort his wife. “The proceeds will secure our ticket to freedom.”
“I know, but…” Her hand flew to her heart as one of the men carried away a small brass statuette that Eberhard had given her when Johanna was born. None of the items had significant material value, though taken together, they were worth a pretty penny.
It was the sentimental value that weighed heavily on both their hearts. When he’d signed the asset transfer papers, he hadn’t realized how many emotions were attached to these things. His heart contracted painfully as his desk chair was carried past.
How many years had he sat on it to work on his files?
Next came the suits and any clothing not on the inventory list for their emigration luggage.
Not even the fine high-heeled shoes and the long dress Selma had worn to Johanna’s wedding years ago were spared.
Every single item was packed into boxes and taken away.
Eberhard turned away, unable to bear the distress any longer. The Abwehr would keep the apartment. Located in one of the central districts of Berlin, the rent would continue to contribute to their emigration costs.
Instinctively, he clenched his hand in a fist, until Selma’s hand touched his back. “We would have lost all this anyway, the moment we left the country. The Gestapo would’ve been pleased to take it all.”
His head knew it was true, but it still hurt in his heart. He forced a smile. “At least this way it’ll serve a good purpose.”
Their other companions, in particular Leonore, could never have raised the horrendous deposit required. As they stood watching, a removal man carried Selma’s jewelry box past them.
She drew an audible breath, and Eberhard all but felt the pain of her emotions.
She had already been forced to hand over the more valuable pieces of jewelry, in particular gold, silver, gemstones and pearls, in February 1939, after the Nazis had issued the Third Order on the Decree on the Registration of Jewish Property, an obscene decree, which Eberhard had persistently named the Robber Barons’ Act.
The jewelry box still contained Selma’s much-loved amber necklace with matching earrings and a magnificent red coral necklace – both of which the Nazis had considered too materially insignificant to seize.
Unable to bear his wife’s pain, Eberhard approached the man. “Excuse me, would it be possible for my wife to keep at least one piece of jewelry?”
“Sorry, I’ve been ordered to take everything with me.” The man gave an embarrassed shrug. “Why don’t you ask Lieutenant Hesse when he stops by later? I’ll leave the box here until then.”
“That’s immensely kind of you. Thank you very much,” said Eberhard. The lieutenant had showed up the day before, sticking red slips of paper on the pieces of furniture that were to remain for prospective tenants.
When Hesse appeared later, the removal men had almost finished clearing the apartment. Eberhard saw from his face how much he detested this task. In recent months, Eberhard had come to know and appreciate Lieutenant Hesse, especially the depth of his convictions.
“Very spartan,” Hesse commented as he entered what had once been a cozy home.
“It’ll make leaving it much easier,” Eberhard remarked drily, looking around rooms devoid of any personal touch.
He’d been too agitated during the removal to notice, but now he realized that an inner calm had settled on his spirits.
This apartment was no longer his home any more than this country was.
All the material things dear to him were in the two medium-sized suitcases in the bedroom – one each for him and Selma.
At the advanced age of fifty-five, with not much more than the clothes on his back, he was about to start a completely new life, in a foreign country no less.
He was under no illusion that they’d be allowed to stay in Switzerland forever – the Swiss Immigration Office had made that quite clear, using phrases similar to those of the Nazis at the beginning of the 1930s.
Switzerland had its own fair share of anti-Semitism and fear of being overrun with Jewish foreigners.
“It won’t be long,” said Lieutenant Hesse. “I was informed this morning that the visas have been issued. You can pick them up at the Swiss embassy. Once that’s done, we’ll set the final travel date. I’d estimate you’ll be leaving Germany in less than a week.”
Despite all the harassment he’d suffered in recent years, Germany had been Eberhard’s home for over half a century. “You won’t believe what a relief that is. Though I still feel a mixture of laughter and tears at the prospect of emigrating.”
“You’ll soon settle in, I’m certain. People with your quick comprehension and your thorough understanding of the law are needed everywhere.”
“Every nation has its own unique justice system. I won’t be allowed to practice abroad.”
Lieutenant Hesse nodded pensively. “I’m a layman on the subject, but I believe you’ll be able to familiarize yourself relatively easily with a new legal system. Although you might have to go back to school for a few semesters and take an exam.”
Eberhard had already thought of this. Frankly, at his advanced age, it terrified him to think of exchanging the office for the lecture hall, where his fellow students could be his sons – or daughters.
“We’ll see. First, we need to make it out of here.
” His gaze fell on Selma, hovering in the background with Johanna, and he remembered the request he’d hoped to make.
“I wanted to ask you one more thing, Lieutenant Hesse.” He weighed his words carefully, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “There’s a jewelry box over there, with a few pieces that are particularly dear to my wife. Would it be possible for her to keep at least one of the necklaces?”
Lieutenant Hesse frowned. “You know that the export of valuables is prohibited.”
“I do know that, which is why we didn’t put the necklaces on the inventory list.” Eberhard sighed. “We had to hand over all her valuable jewelry years ago, these are pieces with more sentimental value.”
“May I have a look at the necklaces?”
“Of course.” Eberhard led him into the kitchen, where the removal man had placed the jewelry box on the dresser, and opened it.
It was empty, apart from the two necklaces and a pair of earrings.
Lieutenant Hesse examined the contents and pointed to the dark red beads. “Are those coral?”
“Yes. I bought Selma the necklace during our honeymoon in Mallorca.” Memories of a time full of hope and joy before the First World War washed over him, warming his heart.
“And this one?”
Eberhard picked up the necklace: a string of dozens of small amber beads and one larger central stone with an insect trapped inside. “This is amber. Hardened fossilized resin.”
“Interesting.” Lieutenant Hesse ran a hand over his chin. “There’s no way this will be approved in your luggage.”
Eberhard was about to close the box when Hesse reached out his hand. “Wait. Have you declared the existence of this jewelry anywhere?”
“No. We never listed them on our asset statement, because they’re not gemstones.”
“I can’t possibly save both necklaces, which one is your wife most fond of?”
Without hesitation, Eberhard pointed to the coral string. It held countless treasured memories of their time as newlyweds.
“I can’t promise anything, so best not to tell your wife.” Lieutenant Hesse took the necklace and slipped it into his pocket. “If all goes well, I’ll return it to you in Basel.”
“Thank you so much! That means a lot to me.” Eberhard’s eyes filled with tears, and he struggled to speak.
“Don’t thank me too soon.” The lieutenant turned away and called one of the furniture packers to load the jewelry box into the van. Once everything was loaded, he said, “Come to my office as soon as you’ve been to the Swiss embassy.”
“Certainly, Lieutenant, I’ll go first thing tomorrow morning.” Eberhard prayed silently that all would go well, with no more nasty surprises lying in wait for them.