More beers and jenevers followed. Jos and Theo chatted about Theo’s trips on the Triton, the dock strike in England, the state of the wharves on the River Thames and in Hull following the wartime bombing, the ongoing detention of NSB members, and the situation in the East Indies.
He listened intently to the two men, both worldly-wise, discussing subjects he knew absolutely nothing about, realising his life and knowledge were limited to his small corner of the Jordaan district. At that moment he somehow knew that to make a new life he would need to spread his wings, possibly even away from Amsterdam and the Netherlands.
They walked to Haarlemmerplein together. Theo, either drunk or still finding his land-legs, left unsteadily to see his wife while he and Jos made their way back to the Jordaan.
Maaike was waiting for him at Slootstraat with a sandwich. ‘Tell me, how did it go? Did Theo know anything?’
‘He did actually, no names or details but I think he has answered some if not quite all of the questions. Gerrit posted letters for father, which explains Dykstra’s invoice and maybe Berger’s too, but not how the one from Berger got to father. He didn’t know anything about Lijnbaansgracht but what he did know was that Gerrit mentioned to his wife that he’d delivered three very expensive gold watches. They must be the ones to van der Meer.’
‘So if van der Meer gave the money to Gerrit, it explains why your father was able to mark his copy of the invoice as paid, and there’s no question of van der Meer knowing about Kromme Palmstraat. Do we need to go to see him at all now?’
‘I still want to go, firstly to check that the delivery Gerrit made was the one to van der Meer, but also to ask how he found father and when he placed his order with him.’
Jos and Maaike were certainly right about Johannes Vermeerstraat, it was a different world to the Jordaan. Number 2 was at the city end, just as Jos had said, in fact it backed onto the Museumplein next to the Rijksmuseum. Together with Irene they walked up from the tram stop on Johannes Vermeerplein, marvelling at the houses, until they stood outside the mansion which was the residence of Matthijs van der Meer.
For a moment they just looked at each other, unsure whether to ring the bell or to go through the heavy iron spiked gate to the side door, which looked like the tradesman’s or even the staff entrance. Suddenly the decision was made for them as Irene ran up the three steps and started knocking on the wide oak door.
‘Irene! Come back here.’
Maaike started to go towards the steps but he was faster, joining the girl on the top just as the door opened. A woman in her thirties smartly dressed in a two-piece black suit and white blouse looked at him, Irene and finally at Maaike, who was still slowly climbing the steps.
He gave her his best smile. ‘Goedemiddag, can we speak to Meneer van der Meer?’
‘And who might you be?’ The woman looked him up and down, noting no doubt his second-hand coat and old shoes. She turned her attention to Maaike, staring at her crutches and single leg. ‘Have you got an appointment?’
‘No, I’m sorry, we haven’t.’
‘Can I tell him who you are and what it’s about, perhaps?’
‘Please tell him I am Simon Mendelevski and it’s about gold watches.’
The woman started to close the door when a tall, distinguished, bald man with a goatee beard dressed in an expensive three-piece suit and bowtie appeared behind her in the huge hallway.
‘Thank you Joke, I’ll handle this.’
The woman nodded and turned away, disappearing into a back room.
‘I’m Matthijs van der Meer, how can I help?’
‘I am Simon Mendelevski, son of a watchmaker, and my friend is Maaike de Vries and this is Irene. I think you had business with my father during the war.’
‘You’d better come in, Joke will look after Maaike and Irene while we talk.’ He rang a bell on a table in the hall and Joke re-appeared. ‘Joke, can you look after these two young ladies for me, I’m sure Irene would like some lemonade.’
Joke managed a smile for the first time. ‘Of course, please come this way.’
Maaike looked at him anxiously, keen to stay with him. ‘Will you be alright?’
It was too late, Irene had already taken Joke’s hand and was halfway down the long hallway.
‘Come into the study. Can I take your coat? Please sit down.’
He handed over his shabby overcoat and perched nervously on the edge of a studded leather armchair across from an enormous inlaid and highly polished mahogany desk. The room was hung with a huge number of paintings, mainly portraits reminiscent of the Golden Age paintings he had seen in the Rijksmuseum. An ornate pair of silver inkwells sat in a polished wooden tray, a brass reading lamp with a dark green glass shade and an ornate telephone occupied the desk. Everywhere he looked he saw antiques, old Delft pottery, paintings and items of precious metal or cut glass. Two large framed certificates hung on the wall behind the desk.
Van der Meer settled himself in a high-backed leather chair and rang a bell. Joke appeared again, and he ordered coffee. ‘Is coffee alright or would you like something stronger?’ He indicated a well stocked drinks cabinet.
‘No, thank you, coffee is fine.’
Van der Meer looked at him, ‘So Meneer Mendelevski, what can I do for you? May I call you Simon?’
‘I think you bought three watches from my father. I’m trying to piece together the details of his last weeks of work. He died in Auschwitz.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. What about the rest of your family?’
‘I was the only one of my family to survive, Meneer.’
‘Please, call me Matthijs. So, your father was Mendelevski the watchmaker?’
‘Yes, and I think he did some work for you.’
‘That’s correct. Your father made me three of the finest watches I have ever owned.’
He opened a drawer in the desk and took out a polished wooden tray with three gold pocket watches laid on a velvet cushion. ‘Your father’s finest work. Please handle them if you wish.’
Simon picked up one of the watches. It was much heavier than David Meijer’s and the gold case totally enclosed the watch. He opened it to see a beautiful enamelled face and delicate hands.
‘It’s magnificent, isn’t it? What a loss that your father can never again create more beautiful watches like that, he was so skilled. Press that catch there and open it up further. Now, remove that dust cover and look at the superb workmanship, the heart of the watch.’
He looked in awe at the wheels and spring, moving gently. He noticed ‘A.M. Amsterdam’ engraved proudly but discreetly inside. He gently replaced the watch in the tray.
‘Thank you for letting me see them, I am so proud that my father could produce something so perfect. We were sent to Westerbork then on to Auschwitz in late 1942. My father only finished your watches just before we were arrested. I have his copy of the invoice he sent to you.’
Van der Meer interrupted him. ‘He didn’t send the invoice, it was delivered here by a man I think worked for your father. He also brought the watches with him and I paid him in cash. He just turned up here, like you did today. I was here with a client but Joke showed him in, he handed me the watches and the invoice, and I paid him. My client, like you, thought the watches the most beautiful objects. I do hope your father got the money by the way, it was in very large denomination notes.’
‘I’m sure he did.’ He thought of the large notes in the box. ‘Yes, I’m sure he did.’
‘To be honest I’d given up on ever seeing the finished articles. I sent my driver to check on your father’s progress, but he came back and said your father had gone from his business address. That would have been sometime in 1941. I thought he had already been arrested or that he had registered the business and that all the assets had then been taken and compulsorily paid into the LIRO bank by the Nazis.’
‘My father closed the business down in 1941 to avoid that and worked from home until we went into hiding.’
‘You were in hiding?’
‘Yes, and I think we were betrayed.’ He looked at van der Meer, trying to gauge his reaction. ‘I believe my father finished making your watches while we were hiding.’
‘That’s awful, so many of those who hid, both Jews like your family, and good Dutch patriots too, were betrayed.’
‘Can I ask how you found my father to give him the work?’
‘He was recommended as the best watchmaker in Amsterdam by a friend of mine who was the managing director of the company who supplied your father with parts.’
‘Prins Horloges in Arnhem?’
‘That’s right, how did you know? My friend was killed in the fighting at Arnhem in 1944.’
‘We found some of his invoices to my father. When did you order the watches?’
‘I know exactly when it was, it was August 1940, three months after the invasion. I went to your father’s workshop personally to place the order and talk money.’
‘Did you provide the gold cases?’
‘No, I left it all to him.’
‘Can I ask why you ordered three watches?’
‘That’s a good question, how can I put it? After the invasion it was clear to me that money was going to be worthless or the guilder was likely to be replaced by the German mark, and I had a lot of very large denomination notes from some, let’s call them unrecorded, dealings only I knew about before the war and also some money from commodities that I sold at a good rate in the days after the invasion in May. I saw gold as a good investment; beautiful watches in gold cases were even better.’
He felt himself suddenly become very angry. ‘So you ditched your dirty money on my father?’
‘Simon, Simon, calm down. Your father was an astute businessman as well as an outstanding watchmaker. He knew exactly what the situation was with the money. We agreed he could double the price. He drove a hard bargain, laundering the money if you want, he was no fool, so I actually paid him double what it said on his invoice. In fact, I was surprised when the man delivered it that your father raised an invoice for the transaction at all, if you follow me. I presume you have a copy?’ He grinned. ‘I can’t show you mine, it has mysteriously disappeared.’
‘I have father’s copy. He even marked it ‘paid’. He was always very correct with his paperwork.’
Van der Meer laughed. ‘Even if it showed only half of the amount. It’s a shame he’s not still with us, I had all sorts of problems when they demonetised the old guilders last month. A few more gold watches would have been useful.’
He forced a smile, remembering his father’s often slightly dubious business dealings and his eye for a bargain. Then it suddenly dawned on him that his father’s decision to take van der Meer’s dirty money had actually backfired, resulting in Simon being forced to accept only a third of the value when Jos had re-laundered it for him.
The coffee arrived and they made small talk. The atmosphere, on his side at least, was strained. He couldn’t help feeling that van der Meer had used his father, but he was unsure whether he could have committed an even worse crime.
For his part van der Meer was a perfect host and gentleman, but it was clear that whatever business he was in, while clearly providing untold riches, was likely to be shady at best and questionable if not downright illegal at worst.
Joke came through with Maaike and Irene and they prepared to leave.
‘Thank you both for coming. I hope I have filled in some blanks for you. If you ever need my help or advice, personal or professional, please telephone. Joke is my secretary, she will take a message. Take my card.’
‘‘Matthijs van der Meer, Advocaat’. So you’re a lawyer?’
Van der Meer smirked. ‘Among other things. I have, shall we say, many interests.’ He winked at Maaike. ‘Goodbye Simon, goodbye my dear, tot ziens.’
Maaike was anxious to know all the details of his conversation with van der Meer. He told her about it as they walked to the tram stop.
‘So Gerrit did deliver the invoice and the watches. Someone at that Arnhem company recommended your father, that’s how van der Meer found him. He paid in those large notes as part of a special deal your father negotiated so the amount on the invoice was really just half of what was paid.’
‘In a nutshell, yes. But it was dirty money from some obviously illegal dealings and my father saw an opportunity to benefit. I already knew he was crafty on occasions but this rather taints my view of him.’
‘Simon, don’t, please remember that when your father agreed to the deal the country had just been invaded by the Nazis, who were intent on wiping out your entire race. He probably thought that having more money might help, perhaps he hoped he could find somebody and pay them to help you all get away.’
‘Maybe, I’m just totally confused and a little shocked. Father was often a bit cunning but the thought of him dealing with someone like van der Meer has upset me. I’m used to dealings within our own community where everyone was looking to outdo everyone else, it was like a game really.’
‘We’ve established, I think, that van der Meer couldn’t have known where you were hiding so he’s not the one who betrayed you, right?’
‘I suppose so, but he was an odious, creepy, patronising man. I wouldn’t put anything past him, quite frankly. Like Jos said, he obviously did very well out of the war. I think he was probably a collaborator or that he made money out of dealing with the Germans somehow. It’s obvious he wasn’t cold or starving last winter.’
‘He’s not short of money, however he got it. That house was like nowhere I have ever been, the kitchen alone was bigger than my place on Slootstraat. One thing’s for sure, Matthijs van der Meer wouldn’t have needed the thirty guilders reward he would have got for betraying your family.’
He thought for a moment. ‘Maybe not, Maaike, maybe not.’
They got back to Slootstraat just a few minutes before Grietje returned and came to collect Irene. The girl was excited to tell her mother all about ‘the big house’ she had visited that afternoon.
‘In a moment, darling, I just want to ask Simon and Maaike something. What progress today then, you two?’
‘We made some, I suppose.’ Simon looked at Maaike for her agreement. ‘Theo, the man on the ship, said his brother-in-law had delivered the watches to van der Meer and he confirmed it.’
‘His was the luxury house Irene liked so much?’
Maaike chipped in, ‘Oh Grietje, you should have seen it. It’s the sort of place you can only dream about.’
‘Not for the likes of us then,’ said Grietje and quickly brought her down to earth. ‘It sounds like the places I clean over at Vondel Park.’
‘And not exactly legally obtained either, I suspect. I didn’t take to him at all. Maaike doesn’t think he could be the one who betrayed us though.’
‘And you, what do you think?’
‘In fairness it’s difficult to see how it could have been him, he didn’t know where we were hiding. Gerrit took the watches to him. But I didn’t like him, everything about him was sleazy and I certainly wouldn’t trust him.’
‘But if he’s off the list, where do you go now?’
‘We still have to find Berger and somehow find out who is renting the stable at Kromme Palmstraat and if they had it in 1942, but all that’s for another day. I have to go to the station this evening to ask about trains to Leeuwarden for Maaike so she can reply to her aunt, and then I need to write to father’s insurance company and the Jewish Coordination Committee in Arnhem. I think they have an office here in Amsterdam somewhere, but I need to know the address.’
‘But first you need to eat, both of you. Come on, upstairs, we’ll eat together again tonight.’ She took Irene’s hand.
They looked at each other, shrugged and followed her.
Tuesday 23rd October 1945
‘I can’t write to Aunt Nel until I’ve asked Jos about time off.’
‘Right, well, ask him tonight and agree the date at the same tim
e. I’ll go with you to help with changing trains at Amersfoort and you’ll need to make sure someone can meet you at Zwolle when you change again. If they can’t get there I’ll go on to Zwolle with you and put you on the Leeuwarden train.’
‘I’m sure one of my cousins will meet me, but it might be best if I give Aunt Nel a couple of dates, then she can write back to say which one is best.’
‘All this writing makes it very complicated. Isn’t your aunt on the telephone?’
‘She certainly won’t have one and probably has never used one, she’s in rural Friesland not Amsterdam, remember. But I’ll ask in the letter if there is a number I can contact her on.’
‘How long are you thinking of going for?’
‘I thought a week so I’ll need five days off, oh, and I’ll have to speak to Grietje about Irene. Maybe I’d better just make it a couple of days.’
‘Grietje and I will manage somehow I’m sure, I think she’s going to Utrecht again soon so maybe you could go while she’s away. Ask her this afternoon before you ask Jos and before you write.’
She touched his leg and smiled. ‘I was rather hoping we might spend some special time together the next time Grietje goes away and we have the house to ourselves. Won’t you come with me to Leeuwarden? It would be nice.’
‘I don’t think your Aunt Nel would appreciate the ‘special time’ you have in mind.’ He laughed and touched her hair.
‘I’ll miss you.’
‘I’ll miss you too. Now I have to get to work, it’s half past two already. I’ll post my letters on the way and I’ll see you at six.’
‘Can I go with you to see Nel, please Maaike? I promise I’ll be good.’
Maaike laughed. ‘Maybe one day, Irene, I think Mama is taking you to see your Oma and Opa again soon.’
‘We have to be careful what we say in front of her, she’s so bright, she picks up on everything,’ said Simon.
Jos was behind the bar when he arrived at work. It was a typical weekday early evening.
Mendelevski's Box Page 18
