by Stefan Zweig
Pausing again, he tried to meet her gaze. She was looking at the ground, but her hand on the table was steady.
“So, again, I don’t want to raise any false hopes. There are no assurances I can give you, none at all. Or myself. If we go into this together, that doesn’t mean we’re going to be bound together for life. We’re doing this in order to be free, to live freely. We might want to be free of each other some day. Maybe even soon. I can’t vouch for myself—I don’t know who I am, still less who I’ll be once I’ve tasted freedom. The agitation in me today might just be something inside that wants to come out, but maybe it’ll stay there, or even grow. We still don’t know each other very well, we’ve only ever been together for a few hours. It would be madness to say we’ll be able to live together forever or that we want to. All I can promise is that I’ll be a good friend to you, in the sense that I’ll never betray you or force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you want to leave me, I won’t stop you. But I can’t promise that I’ll stay with you. I can’t promise anything—not that this will succeed, or that you’ll be happy or have no worries afterward, or even that we’ll stay together. No promises. So I’m not trying to talk you into anything—no, on the contrary, I’m warning you: because your situation is worse, you’ll be the criminal. And then you’re a woman and more dependent. You’re taking a big chance, an awful chance, I don’t want you to think anything different. I’m not trying to persuade you. So please—read the plan. Then think about it and make up your mind, but, as I told you: you’ve got to be aware that the decision is irrevocable.”
He put the papers on the table. “Please read it with total attention and total skepticism—pretend this is a bad business deal and you don’t trust the contract. Meanwhile I’ll go outside and take a walk, check out the building. I’m not going to hang over you. I don’t want you to feel any pressure.”
He stood up and went out without looking at her. The big folded sheets of paper, covered with neat handwriting, lay in front of her. She had to wait a few minutes for her heart to stop pounding.
The creased manuscript was neatly drawn up like a document from a bygone century. The section headings were underlined in red pencil:
I. The Crime Itself
II. Avoiding Capture
III. Plans for Life Abroad, Etc.
IV. Plans in the Event of Misadventure or Discovery
V. Summary
The first section, “The Crime Itself,” was again subdivided, as were the others, with each subsection, labeled (a), (b), (c), etc., clearly set off as in a contract.
Christine picked up the document and read it from start to finish.
I. The Crime Itself
(a) Choice of Date: It is evident that the deed must take place either on a Saturday or on the day prior to a public holiday. This will delay discovery of the theft by at least twenty-four hours and provide the head start absolutely necessary for our escape. The post office closes at six o’clock, early enough to allow for the possibility of reaching Switzerland or France on the night express train; in November early dusk will offer a further advantage. November is the worst month for travel. One can with virtual certainty expect to be alone in the train compartment during the night within Austria, so that there will be few witnesses who could provide personal descriptions once the newspapers have been notified. November 10, the day preceding Independence Day (a public holiday), would be particularly advantageous in that we would arrive abroad on a weekday and be able to make all initial purchases and alterations in appearance that much more unobtrusively. Accordingly, it would be desirable to delay the delivery of all incoming funds until this date (without attracting attention) in order to amass as large a sum as possible.
(b) Departure: We must of course leave separately. We will both buy tickets for short trips only: to Linz, from Linz on to Innsbruck or the border, and from the border on to Zürich. If possible you must buy your ticket to Linz some days in advance, or, better, I will buy your ticket for you so that the clerk, who undoubtedly knows you, will not be able to provide any information about your actual destination. See Section II for other measures related to false leads and covering the trail. I will board the train in Vienna, you at St. Pölten; we will not speak to each other during the entire night as long as we remain within Austria. It is important that no one know or suspect that the crime involved an accomplice; subsequent investigations will then remain focused on your name and description and not on the couple we will appear to be when we are abroad. Until we are well within the borders of another country, any appearance of a connection between us is to be avoided in front of conductors and officials, other than the border guard to whom we will identify ourselves with a joint passport.
(c) Documents: It would clearly be best to obtain false passports in addition to our real ones, but time is short. Once abroad we can attempt to do so. But obviously the name Hoflehner must not be seen at any checkpoint, whereas I may register anywhere under my real name, which will still be entirely unblemished. I will therefore make one small alteration to my passport, the addition of your name and photograph. I can make the rubber stamp myself (I studied wood engraving at one time). I will also (I have made sure of this) be able to alter the F in my name with a small stroke so that it can be read as “Karrner,” and this name will put the passport into quite a different category even in the eventuality which I believe can be ruled out (see Section II). The passport will then be valid for the two of us as man and wife and will suffice until such time as we obtain proper false passports in some port city. If our money holds out for two or three years, this should offer no difficulty.
(d) Transporting the Money: If at all practicable, precautions must be taken during the final days to collect bills in the largest possible denominations, thousands or ten thousands, so that you will not be loaded down. During the journey, you will distribute the fifty to two hundred banknotes (depending on the denominations) among your suitcase, your handbag, even your hat if necessary. This should certainly be adequate to evade the simple border inspection that is now commonly practiced. In the course of the trip I will exchange some of the banknotes for foreign currency in the Zürich and Basel train stations, so that when we arrive in France we will have what we need to make the important initial purchases without having to exchange a conspicuous amount of Austrian currency in any one place.
(e) Initial Destination: I propose Paris. Paris has the advantage that it can be reached easily, without changing trains; we will arrive there sixteen hours before the theft is discovered and probably twenty-four hours before any arrest warrant is issued and will have time to complete all adjustments in physical appearance (this will affect you only). I speak fluent French, so we will be able to avoid the typical tourist hotels and go to a suburban hotel where we will be less conspicuous. Another advantage of Paris is that the holiday traffic there is enormous, making surveillance of any one person virtually impossible. From what friends have told me, registration of change of residence is also a casual affair in France, unlike Germany, where landlords, even the entire nation, are curious by nature and demand precision. In addition, the German newspapers will presumably provide more details about an Austrian post office robbery than the French ones. And by the time the newspapers publish this initial information, we will probably have left Paris (see Section III).
II. Avoiding Capture
It is essential that the investigations conducted by the authorities be made more difficult and if possible led astray. Any wrong track will delay their progress, and after some days the personal descriptions will have passed entirely out of mind within Austria and certainly abroad. It is thus important from the outset that we envision all the measures that will be taken by the authorities, and take appropriate countermeasures.
The authorities will pursue their investigations via the usual three channels: (1) careful searches of buildings; (2) questioning of all acquaintances; (3) searches for other persons involved in the offense. It will thus not be
sufficient to destroy all papers in the building; on the contrary, measures must be taken to confuse the investigators and put them on the wrong track. These will include:
(a) Visa: When any crime is committed, the police inquire at the consulates to determine whether the Person H concerned in the case has recently been issued a visa. As I am obtaining a French visa not for Passport H but for myself (see Section V), and thus, at least for the time being, will not draw notice, it would actually suffice if no visa at all were obtained for Passport H. However, since we wish to divert the trail eastward, I will obtain a Romanian visa for your passport, which will of course produce the consequence that the investigations conducted by the police will concentrate primarily on Romania and the Balkans in general.
(b) To strengthen this assumption, it would be a good thing for you to send a telegram on the day before Independence Day to Branco Riczitsch, Bucharest Station—general delivery. “Arriving tomorrow afternoon with all luggage, meet me at station.” It is a safe assumption that the authorities will review all recent dispatches and telephone calls from your post office and immediately hit upon this highly suspicious communication, which will lead them to believe, first, that they know who the accomplice is and, second, that they are sure of the direction of flight.
(c) To reinforce this error, which is important for us, I will write you a long letter in a feigned hand. You will tear it carefully into little pieces and throw them into the wastebasket. The detectives will naturally search the wastebasket, put the pieces together, and find corroboration of the false trail.
(d) On the day before your departure, you will make discreet inquiries about direct trains to Bucharest and the fares. We can be certain that the railway official will present himself as a witness and thus add further to the confusion.
(e) To remove any connection with me, though you will be traveling and will be registered as my spouse, one small thing is required. To my knowledge, no one has seen us together and no one at all except your brother-in-law is aware that we know each other. To mislead him, I will go to his house tonight and say goodbye. I will say I finally got a suitable job in Germany and am going there. I will also pay my landlady what I owe and show her a telegram. Since I will be disappearing eight days ahead of time, any connection between the two of us will be completely ruled out.
III. Plans for Life Abroad, Etc.
A precise evaluation cannot be made until we are there. A few general points only:
(a) Appearance: In dress, conduct, and bearing, we must present the appearance of moderately well-off members of the middle class, because they attract the least attention. Not too elegant, not too humble, and in particular I will pose as a member of a class seldom associated with this sort of undertaking or with money: I will pretend to be a painter. In Paris I will buy a small easel, a folding chair, canvas, and a palette, so that wherever we go my profession will be obvious at a glance and questions superfluous. And in all romantic spots in France, there are thousands of painters roving about year round. It will attract no further attention and from the outset arouse a certain sympathy, like the sympathy one has for eccentric and harmless people.
(b) We must dress accordingly. Velvet or linen, signaling the artist just a little, otherwise total inconspicuousness. You will appear as my assistant, carrying the plate holder and the camera. No one asks such people what they are doing and where they come from or is surprised that they choose out-of-the-way little lairs for themselves, and even a speaker of a foreign language attracts no special notice.
(c) Language: It is extremely important that, as far as possible, we speak to each other only when no one is around. Under no circumstances may we be observed speaking German together. The old children’s language Be-Sprache would be best to use when others are present, as it is not only incomprehensible to foreigners but also obscures the very language being spoken. In hotels, we should if possible take corner rooms or those that will allow us to be unheard by neighbors.
(d) Frequent Changes of Residence: It will be necessary to change our place of residence frequently. After a certain time, we may become liable to taxes or otherwise attract official scrutiny, which, though irrelevant to us, may still create awkwardnesses. Ten to fourteen days, four weeks in smaller towns, is the right period of time. This will also prevent our becoming known to hotel staff.
(e) Money: The money must divided up and kept in separate places until we succeed in renting a safe-deposit box somewhere, which will be risky in the initial months at least. Obviously it must be carried not in a billfold or openly, but sewn into the lining of our shoes, in our hats or our garments, so that in case of a random inspection or other unpredictable misadventure the discovery of large amounts of Austrian currency will give no grounds for suspicion. Money must be exchanged slowly and with caution and always in larger places such as Paris, Monte Carlo, or Nice, never in smaller cities.
(f) Insofar as is possible, acquaintances are to be avoided, at least at first, until we have obtained new papers in some way (it should be easy in port cities) and have left France for Germany or another country of our choosing.
(g) It is unnecessary to establish objectives and plans for our future life in advance. Assuming an average, inconspicuous way of life, I calculate that the money should last for four or five years, within which time we must make decisions about what will follow. Instead of carrying the entire sum on us in cash—nothing more risky than that—we must endeavor to deposit it as soon as possible, although this cannot be done until entirely safe and unobtrusive methods are found. The strictest caution, the most rigorous unobtrusiveness, and constant self-monitoring will be required for the initial period. After six months we will be able to move freely and any official profiles will have been forgotten. We must also use this time to improve our languages, systematically alter our handwriting, and overcome the feeling of foreignness and insecurity. If practicable we should also acquire some skill that will make possible another way of life and another profession.
IV. Plans in the Event of Misadventure or Discovery
In an undertaking as founded on uncertainty as ours, the possibility that things will go wrong must be reckoned with from the outset. When dangerous situations may arise or from what quarter they may come cannot be known in advance, and the two of us will have to study them and deal with them jointly as they present themselves. However, certain basic principles can be set down:
(a) If we should become separated through some accident or error on the journey or in the course of our changes of residence, we will immediately return to the place where we last stayed the night together and either wait for each other at the train station or write to each other at the general post office of the city in question.
(b) If, through some misadventure, our trail is picked up and an arrest is made, all measures must be in place so that the ultimate steps can be taken. I will not let my revolver out of my pocket and will always keep it by my bed. Just in case, I will prepare a poison, potassium cyanide, which you can always carry unobtrusively in a compact. The feeling of always being prepared to act on the decision we have made will give us greater confidence at every moment. I for my part am fully resolved never again to set foot behind barbed wire or barred windows.
If, however, one of us is apprehended in the absence of the other, that other will loyally assume the duty of fleeing at once. It would be the grossest error to surrender out of a sentimental wish to share the comrade’s fate, for one person alone is always less weighed down and will be able to invent excuses more easily in the event of a simple investigation. In addition, the other, the one who is free, will be at large, able to help cover the trail, send word, or possibly be of assistance in the event of an escape. It would be madness to willingly give up that freedom for whose sake everything was done. There will always be time for suicide.
V. Summary
We are entering into this hazardous undertaking and staking our lives in order to be free, at least for a time. The idea of freedom
includes freedom with respect to each other as individuals. Should living together become burdensome or intolerable to either of us for internal or external reasons, he or she will make a clean break from the other. Each of us is undertaking this venture on his or her own initiative without compulsion and without placing the other under duress. Each of us will be responsible for himself or herself only; neither may find fault with the other on that account, whether openly or tacitly. Just as from the first we will share the money that secures our freedom, so we will also share the responsibility and the risk, and each of us will accept the consequences for himself or herself.
In all future planning our individual responsibility will remain unchanged: our conviction will be at all times that we have done no injustice to the state or to each other, but only what was appropriate and natural in our situation. It would be senseless to venture into such danger with a bad conscience. We will embark upon this course only if each of us, independently of the other and after thorough deliberation, has arrived at the conviction that it is the only one and the right one.
