Mendelevski's Box

by Roger Swindells

  Maaike wanted to know what was going on. Simon told her Piet was the man who was going to open the doors at Kromme Palmstraat.

  ‘He looks really evil, can you trust a man like that?’

  ‘I’ve got no choice, I have to, and he has to trust me even more I suppose.’

  ‘But who is he? What’s his name? Where’s he from?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about him, I think that’s the idea. He’s just ‘Piet’, one of Jos’s contacts.’

  ‘His most frightening contact yet. Where does Jos get all these people from? Money changers who also steal jewellery, a man who can open any lock. What next I wonder?’

  He thought it best not to tell her that he would be going in with Jos and Piet.

  Piet came back at ten thirty. Maaike gave him a fierce look as she poured his beer and he disappeared with Jos into the cellar. They spoke very briefly before he left again, placing his empty glass on the bar and smiling at Maaike as he passed. Jos called Simon down to the cellar a few minutes later.

  ‘It’s tomorrow morning, be here at six thirty.’

  He was suddenly very frightened. After desperately wanting to get into the stable to look at Berger’s store of goods in the vain hope of finding a clue, now it was actually happening he wanted to back out.

  ‘It will be alright, won’t it? I’ve never done anything like this before.’

  ‘There are a lot of things you haven’t done, young Simon, but if you can get through what you’ve experienced in the last three years you can do this. Of course it’ll be fine, don’t worry, Piet is an expert. How do you think he’s still free and not in prison?’

  ‘True, but does it have to be tomorrow?’

  ‘It’s October, the mornings are going to get darker, we don’t want to be going in there when dawn is at eight or nine, the nosey old girl might be up, so the sooner the better. We’ll have to bring torches as it is.’

  ‘I thought you said no lights in case they’re seen.’

  ‘Yes, but I forgot that when the doors are closed behind you it’s going to be dark in there. I’ve got two torches I used in the war, they have a metal shield to shade the light downwards. You can use those but don’t flash them about, especially upwards.’

  ‘You’re going to shut us in?’ he asked in a total panic.

  ‘You won’t be shut in but I’ll have to close the doors, we can’t leave them wide open.’

  ‘Maaike mustn’t know, Jos.’

  ‘Of course, now get back in that bar. It’s Saturday night, we’re getting busy.’

  He was relieved that he had no time to talk to Maaike during the evening. Once again Jos stayed open after eleven despite the fact that both he and Simon had to be up before dawn the next day.

  As they walked home Maaike was clearly even more worried about the plan after seeing Piet.

  ‘Doesn’t Jos know anyone who isn’t a criminal?’

  He laughed out loud.

  ‘What did I say that’s so funny?’

  ‘I asked him exactly the same thing earlier. He said it wasn’t possible to work on the docks and run a small bar in the Jordaan without meeting a few criminals. Then he said he knew two who weren’t, me and you.’

  ‘It’ll just be me soon, you’ll have joined the criminal classes. So, when are you doing it?’

  He felt guilty as he lied to her for the first time, but he didn’t want to worry her any more. ‘I’m not quite sure, soon I expect.’

  ‘Thank goodness we’re not working tomorrow and I don’t have Irene. We can both get up late. Will you come down and see me after lunch? Perhaps we can go out somewhere.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  Sunday 28th October 1945

  He hardly slept at all. He was terrified he would oversleep, so he borrowed the old brass alarm clock Grietje used as a timer in the kitchen when she was making cakes. He worried it would wake her and Irene when it went off, so he slept with it under his pillow in an attempt to lessen the noise. He needn’t have bothered; he was awake at two, three and five so eventually he turned off the alarm and got up, dressed as quietly as possible, and went down the bare wooden stairs carrying his shoes, carefully avoiding the two squeaky ones so as not to wake Maaike. He replaced the alarm clock and went out into the street, sitting on the step to put on his shoes.

  It was still dark as he made his way slowly through the narrow streets towards the bar. Everywhere was virtually deserted with just the odd tram driver or railway worker carrying his lunch and a can of coffee on his way to work the early shift. There was a hint of rain in the air and he was grateful for the overcoat. Here and there a light came on in a window and he heard a tyre-less bicycle rattling along a street nearby.

  He was at the bar before six, so he sat on the bench outside, loathe to wake Jos any earlier than necessary. After about half an hour a light went on upstairs, followed after a few minutes by one in the bar. The door opened and Jos peered out.

  ‘I thought you’d be here, come in, come in, but keep it quiet, I don’t want to wake her upstairs. I’ve made coffee, it’s on the bar.’

  They sat at a table just inside the door.

  ‘It smells fresh out there, I think it’s going to be a nice day.’

  ‘It feels like rain at the moment.’

  ‘Never mind lad, you’ll be back home and in bed again by nine.’

  ‘I’m still worried about this, excited but worried.’

  ‘Don’t be, I’ll be keeping watch at the bend in the road so I can see both the Lijnbaansgracht and Palmgracht ends. If he should turn up, which he won’t at this hour, it’ll be in his car and I’ll hear the car and see the headlights in plenty of time.’

  ‘What will you do though? We’ll be inside, there won’t be time for us to get out and lock the doors again.’

  ‘I don’t know, I’ll worry about it if it happens. I’ll think of something.’ He laughed and said, ‘Run in front of him and act drunk, lay down in the road, I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it.’

  ‘It’s not funny Jos, I’m scared.’

  ‘Stop worrying, you’ll be in and out, Piet isn’t going to let you look around for long.’

  ‘What about the woman opposite?’

  ‘Unless she’s a tram driver I don’t see her actually coming out or looking out of the window at this hour either, even if she’s up and awake, which I doubt. Piet isn’t exactly going to rattle the lock and chain. If the light goes on I’ll be straight to the doors to get you out.’

  ‘But what if she does come out or look out?’

  ‘I’ll charm her so she’ll only have eyes for me.’

  ‘Seriously, what will we do?’

  ‘Run like hell, you’ll be in third place behind me and Piet.’ He laughed again. ‘Just don’t let her recognise you. She’ll tell Berger, if and when she sees him, that some men were in his lock up, he’ll find there’s nothing missing, so end of story. All he’ll do is add another lock or two. Come on, let’s go, we’re meeting Piet there. I’ve got the torches.’

  They made their way quickly towards Palmgracht without seeing another soul. It was not yet dawn, but the outline of roofs and gables was becoming visible to the east. As they crossed Palmstraat a figure stepped suddenly and silently out of a doorway and joined them.

  ‘Ready to go?’

  ‘Of course, the lad here is shitting himself though.’

  They crossed Palmgracht and turned left towards Kromme Palmstraat.

  ‘You walk through to the other end and check it out, we’ll wait here until you call us in. Leave the torches with us,’ Piet instructed Jos.

  After a few moments Jos gave a low whistle from somewhere near the bend halfway down the street.

  ‘Right, come on and keep quiet.’

  He and Piet went straight up to the doors. As they approached, he could see Jos virtually outside the nosey woman’s house, looking carefully to his left and right in order to observe both ends of the street.

  Piet produ
ced a ring of keys and after trying only two or three opened the padlock before gently pulling the heavy chain through the hasp.

  Simon reached to open the doors but Piet grabbed his arm and whispered, ‘Steady lad, slowly, slowly, we only need to open one enough to slip through and do it carefully in case it scrapes on the ground or those hinges squeak.’

  Dawn was breaking by the time they went inside but, despite trying to adjust his eyes, after pulling the door closed it was too dark and he couldn’t see anything. Piet switched on his torch so he did the same.

  ‘Keep it pointing down, don’t flash it about. Now what do you want to look at?’

  ‘There’s just so much I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘Get looking, I’m not staying here all day, in and out, that’s me.’

  Together they shone their torches over the stalls.

  Piet cast what was obviously an experienced eye over the furniture. ‘There’s some really nice antique stuff here. Look at that inlaid desk, that bureau, those chairs and that lamp. It’s all expensive stuff but not enough to stock a shop. This is just a store I reckon.’ He pointed to some open crates and boxes. ‘What about those?’

  Together they examined a number of wooden crates of all shapes and sizes.

  ‘Look at the labels. You want an address for this man, don’t you?’

  ‘They all say Lijnbaansgracht, that’s his old shop address. They look like old boxes.’

  ‘Let’s look at the labels on those over there, the ones that haven’t been opened, they look newer.’

  ‘Lijnbaansgracht again and this place, Kromme Palmstraat.’ He shone his torch on a label. ‘Bloody hell, look closely, they’re in German. Look at that, it’s the Nazi eagle. These are from German forces.’

  ‘Stuff he bought after the war, when they surrendered?’

  ‘No, they’re addressed to him by name, they’re not just boxes of military surplus. Look at the dates. He’s been dealing with the Germans, I bet.’

  ‘Can’t we open one?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid, we can’t let him know we’ve been here. Check out some more of the open ones over there, I’ll look here. Get on with it, two minutes and we’re going, what are you waiting for?’

  ‘I’ve just realised, this piece of furniture here, and that one over there, and that piece there.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Some of it is Jewish, I just know it’s Jewish stuff, it’s just like the things we had at home. I’d know it anywhere, look at some of the symbols carved on that cupboard door. I just know it’s from a Jewish home.’

  ‘The rest of the stuff is antique and very Dutch, I’ve been inside enough rich Dutch houses to recognise quality.’

  ‘Maybe, but all that lot is from Jewish homes.’

  ‘Get looking in those the crates and let’s get out of here. What have you got?’

  ‘More Jewish items: tzedakah boxes, menorahs, some silver Kiddush cups, everything. There’s a pile of mezuzahs, they were on door frames in Jewish houses, and there’s even an aron kodesh, a holy ark, which belongs in the shul. He’s been robbing Jews.’

  ‘I’ve got paintings, small antiques and silverware in this one, I don’t think they’re particularly Jewish, but come and look.’

  Simon shone his torch down into the crate and suddenly he reached down and grabbed a book, frantically opening it. He shook as he looked at the inside of the cover. Trembling, he turned to Piet. ‘It’s mine, it’s one of my medical books, I brought it with me when we were hiding. There’s more. That’s mine too, and that’s mother’s.’ He started to gather up the things just as Jos whistled.

  They froze.

  ‘Come on, out now!’ Jos hissed. ‘The old woman’s bedroom light is on, her old man must have got up for a piss or something. It’s almost daylight. Let’s get out of here.’

  Piet turned to Simon. ‘Put them back as you found them and let’s go. There’s no time.’

  ‘But they belong to me and my family! I have to see if there’s a painting of a girl in there.’

  ‘No, come on!’ Piet dragged him away and pushed him out into the street and Jos’s arms.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I’ll tell you later, this silly young sod took a liking to some stuff.’ He quietly re-threaded the chain, snapped the lock closed and they hurried away.

  Back at the bar Jos poured Piet and himself large Canadian Club whiskies.

  ‘What went on in there?’

  ‘Better ask the lad.’

  Simon had tears rolling down his face and felt unable to speak.

  ‘Simon, come on, what happened in there? Did you find out where he lives or where his new shop is? If he’s got one, of course. Whatever’s the matter with you, boy?’

  ‘He’s upset. He found a whole load of Jewish religious stuff and what he says is Jewish furniture. There were some very tasty Dutch antiques, furniture, paintings and silverware in there too, made my fingers twitch, I can tell you. I don’t know how I resisted, I must be going soft. There’s not enough there for a shop, it’s only his storage, I’m sure of that, but we had no luck finding an address or anything.’

  Simon spoke at last. ‘That’s only half the story, I know now it was definitely Berger, some of our things were in there; my books, father’s books, mother’s things, all the stuff we left behind when we were taken away. As well as betraying us he stole our belongings. I bet the painting of the girl is in there somewhere, but I had no time to look. There were crates and crates of things he’s obviously got from Jewish homes, there was even stuff from the shul.’

  ‘Probably bought them from the police or the Nazis or both, they didn’t turn in half the stuff they collected from Jewish homes after the occupants were shipped out, my mate in the police told me that.’

  ‘There were crates that hadn’t even been opened with German labels on them, he was obviously dealing with them. I think the lad’s right, whoever owns that stuff is an evil bastard.’

  ‘But I still don’t know where to find him. I was desperately hoping we would find an address or a clue in the stable but nothing. I’m even more certain now that he’s the one but I’ll never find him. Like you said Jos, we can’t stand outside the stable for ever.’

  ‘We will, we will, and when we do I’ll have a word with him for you, make no mistake about that.’

  ‘There were so many Jewish things there, not just from my family but things from others who probably suffered the same fate. Perhaps he was betraying lots of Jews and not just us.’

  ‘Not necessarily, like I said, he may have just bought them.’

  ‘Whatever, the point is he profited from Jewish families being arrested and killed and he was working with the Germans. While I’m more sure than ever that it was him, there’s still the biggest question of all. How did he find out about us being upstairs? I’ve got to know, I’ve got to know if we gave ourselves away or worse, if it was me personally in some way. It’s killing me not knowing. If I do find him that’s the first thing I want to find out.’

  ‘I’ll get it out of him if ever we meet, I promise.’

  Piet drained his glass. ‘I must be off, call me if you ever need a lock sorted.’

  ‘Can I pay you for your help Piet?’

  ‘Keep your money lad, don’t insult me. I did it as a favour to Jos and because you’ve had it bloody hard. I don’t want paying, in fact I rather enjoyed it, made a change from my normal lock opening adventures if you follow me.’ He laughed, his stern face showing some emotion for the first time. ‘Find out where his shop is and we’ll take a look in there too if you want. Tot ziens.’

  ‘Thanks for arranging this for me Jos, I appreciate it.’

  ‘Don’t mention it, I’m just sorry we’re no further forward. Now get off home before Grietje gets up and starts asking questions. What are you going to tell Maaike?’

  ‘Everything, I suppose, I’ve got to tell somebody.’

  A screech came from upstair
s. ‘Jos van Loon, what the bloody hell are you up to? Who have you got down there? Get your fat arse up here now!’

  Simon made his way slowly back to Slootstraat.

  Jos was right, it had turned into a beautiful autumnal Amsterdam morning. The streets were still relatively quiet as it was Sunday, but he passed a number of Jordaan locals on route to the early morning service at the Noorderkerk.

  Grietje and Irene were already up when he walked in.

  ‘Where on earth have you been? I’ve been worried. Irene woke up early and I had to take her downstairs to the toilet and you weren’t in your room.’ She looked guilty. ‘I even asked Maaike, I thought you might have spent the night with her, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Oh Grietje, you didn’t. How could you?’ He sounded hurt and he was angry, but he was actually more concerned that Maaike would have to be told where he’d been.

  Wednesday 31st October 1945

  He and Maaike hadn’t spoken since Sunday afternoon. He’d gone down to see her straight after speaking to Grietje and tried to tell her about what they’d found in the stable, but it had quickly developed into a huge argument because he had lied to her. He had tried to explain that he had thought it best not to tell her as she had been so worried about it. He was upset as he wanted to share things with her. He desperately needed to talk to someone about it, especially about finding some of his own family’s possessions.

  They had spent their day off on Monday apart. He went through his father’s letters again, separating the business ones from those between his parents, hoping to find something he had missed but without success. All that appeared to exist linking Berger and his father, apart from the possessions in the stable, were the two unexplained invoices. An afternoon walk and visit to the book stands in Oudemanhuispoort had done nothing to ease his pain.

  Work on Tuesday evening had been very difficult. Jos had noticed the tension between them but had kept quiet, clearly not wanting to get involved and risk the anger of another woman as well as his wife. He had hoped that they might walk home together after work, but Maaike had left early claiming a headache.