Mendelevski's Box

by Roger Swindells

‘Thank you, now for the all important calculation, and this time I want Meneer van Loon and Joost to both work it out.’

  Simon interrupted again to spare Jos. ‘Why don’t you and I do it and we can write our totals on the other’s sheet.’

  ‘An excellent idea.’

  Jos looked suspicious, but both he and Joost seemed extremely relieved that they had been left out of the final mathematics.

  Hirschfeld finished first and waited for him before he spoke. ‘2,328 dollars, Simon. Do you agree?’

  ‘I do.’ He showed Hirschfeld his figures.

  ‘You’re a bright lad, your father would be so proud. It’s a nice amount of money, equal to over 6,000 guilders, but I’m afraid it’s not a huge profit on what your father bought them at before the war. The rate then was about thirty-five dollars an ounce and the price hasn’t gone up all that much despite the war. Lots of people were panic buying gold and paying ridiculously high rates when the Nazis first arrived as they feared for the guilder.’ He smiled weakly and spread his hands. ‘In fact I think your father may have paid me a little more in 1940, but I’m buying at the proper market rate today, less a little of course for my trouble and in case the rate goes down.’

  Simon was thinking of van der Meer’s hugely inflated deal with his father when Jos said angrily, ‘How much less exactly, Meneer Hirschfeld? How much are you taking?’

  The old Jew looked hurt. ‘I know you are looking after Simon’s interests, but you must understand I have to make a little, obviously I cannot sell at the same price as I buy.’ His eyes twinkled mischievously. ’Surely you don’t do that with beer or, say, Canadian Club whisky?’

  The hint passed over Jos’s head but Simon picked up on it.

  ‘I think perhaps our guests might like a drink before we seal the deal Jos.’

  ‘I certainly need one.’

  Jos brought a tray of drinks, beers for him and Joost, beer and a jenever for himself, and a large Canadian Club for Hirschfeld.

  ‘Now we come to the watch cases. But before we start, are you content with my opinion that they are seventy percent gold?’

  Simon nodded in agreement and Hirschfeld placed all three cases on the scale.

  ‘450 grams gross weight, 150 grams each, agreed?’

  Once again the old man demonstrated his mathematical prowess, arriving at the total weight of the gold virtually in the blink of an eye.

  ‘At seventy percent, this gives us 315 grams of gold.’

  Jos looked concerned again but kept quiet, presumably to avoid being invited to do the calculation himself.

  ‘My chart tells me that is equivalent to just over eleven ounces which at thirty-seven dollars and twenty-five cents an ounce gives us…’ He quickly scribbled the figures down. ‘Near enough 410 dollars.’

  ‘I bow to your outstanding mathematics.’ Simon smiled at the old Jew. ‘I’m sure you are absolutely correct.’

  ‘Thank you. What about Meneer van Loon, are you satisfied?’

  ‘If Simon is, then so am I.’

  ‘Now to the difficult bit, the negotiations. We have a total gold value of 2,738 dollars.’

  He noticed Jos out of the corner of his eye checking the addition of the two totals on a beer mat. Clearly this calculation was within Jos’s mathematical capabilities and he nodded his agreement.

  ‘As you are probably aware I have had to seek a financial partner to join me in this purchase, it is equivalent to almost 7,300 guilders. Before we discuss how much I can offer you, I need to tell you that my partner wants to pay by cheque or, if you prefer, by banker’s draft. Do you have a bank account?’

  ‘No way!’ Jos finally reverted to type and interrupted before Simon could answer. ‘I’m sorry, but there is no way Simon is going to accept a cheque.’

  The atmosphere was extremely tense for a few moments but Hirschfeld forced a smile and attempted to diffuse the situation and assure Jos.

  ‘Please gentlemen, hear me out. The coins and the watch cases remain here with Simon until the cheque has cleared, in fact if my partner obtains a banker’s draft it is absolutely guaranteed to clear very quickly. The man financing this purchase with me is both extremely honest and upright and very well to do, I can’t divulge his name but he is quite a prominent figure in his field. Please understand the payment will not be a problem in any way.’

  Jos jumped in again. ‘In that case, why can’t he pay Simon in cash?’

  ‘Meneer van Loon, Jos, if you try to deposit over 7,000 guilders in cash or 2,700 US dollars into your bank account in the current climate, questions will be asked. If my co-investor pays one of his legitimate company cheques into your account, it will almost certainly be seen as the proceeds of a house sale or a genuine business transaction. Cash would cause you a problem, I think.’

  ‘That’s true, Jos and I have already discussed that.’ He turned to Jos.

  ‘I suppose it would solve a problem but the cheque or draft thing has to clear. We do nothing until the amount is credited to Simon’s bank.’

  ‘Agreed, but now we need to discuss the final price. The approximate value in guilders is 7,300. My offer to you is 6,500.’

  ‘What! You must be bloody joking.’ Jos almost exploded. ‘If that’s all you can do the deal’s off, you’re virtually stealing from the lad.’

  ‘Jos, please, don’t be hasty.’ Simon desperately tried to keep the peace between the two men.

  ‘Meneer, I have to make a profit and that profit will have to be shared with my partner, a few hundred guilders that’s all, not much for my trouble. I’m already being generous to Simon as he is one of us. After all, the price could go down tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh please, you’re breaking my heart.’ Jos said sarcastically.

  ‘Abe has a point Jos, he is a businessman, not a charity for young Jews.’

  Simon laughed but no one else saw the joke.

  ‘I’m sure this ‘businessman’ could do a little better, Simon.’

  Hirschfeld held up his hands. ‘Simon, your friend is a much cleverer trader than he wishes to appear. He wants to deal, he is trying for a better offer from me.’

  ’And you, my friend, have quoted a price that gives you room to move.’

  The old man smiled knowingly, stroking his beard and thinking deeply. Feigning hardship and defeat he answered Jos almost in a whisper, ‘Meneer, how can I live, how can I feed my wife if I have to deal with you? You are a hard man.’ He drained his glass, and looked up at Jos, and smiled. ‘The Canadians brought us more than just our freedom, their whisky is excellent.’

  Jos fetched the bottle and Hirschfeld refilled his glass.

  ‘I like this boy, he is the future of our race and his father was a fine and honest man, a skilled workman who spent money with me. 6,650, last offer.’

  Simon opened his mouth to accept but Jos grabbed his arm. The bar owner turned to Hirschfeld again. ‘6,800, last offer.’

  The old man shook his head but grasped Simon’s hand. ‘I give up, it is agreed. We have a deal but promise me you will go back to your shul and make an old man happy. Now, give me your bank account details, please.’

  ‘I don’t have one yet. I plan to open one on Monday.’

  ‘Oh dear. Very well, it will delay things but perhaps you could tell them you are expecting a large payment from a business transaction, it will help to smooth the way. I will arrange for Joost to deliver a cheque, or preferably a banker’s draft, as soon as I obtain it from my partner and then you can pay it into the bank yourself. When it clears, Joost and I will come to collect the goods.’

  The younger man packed the scales while Hirschfeld resealed the coin bags as before, but this time placing the watch cases inside with the coins.

  Hirschfeld shook hands enthusiastically with Jos. ‘You’re a hard man but you were a good opponent and thank you for looking after this young man’s interests. We must leave soon, our borrowed driver has been waiting outside in the car but perhaps one more small whisky to keep out the
damp?’

  The two men shared another drink while Joost took the scales out to the car.

  ‘Zen ir bald Simon, tot ziens Jos van Loon. Remember old Abraham Hirschfeld in your prayers, won’t you?’

  ‘We will, we will, you can be sure of that,’ Jos muttered under his breath.

  ‘Thank you for looking out for me with Abe like that.’

  ‘I just didn’t want him to swindle you, he’s a crafty old devil. You’ve agreed to a deal where he pays you 500 guilders less than the full value and it could even be more depending on the rate of exchange of the US dollar.’

  ‘I know all that, but he has got to make something out of it and so does his backer, whoever he is, plus the gold price might go down.’

  ‘I doubt that very much, and he’s already made money selling it to your father in the first place. I’m sure the money man can afford to sit on it until it goes up, which it will.’

  ‘I’m not sure now the war is over, after all it didn’t go up that much during the war. It was just that people were paying more than the going rate in order to get gold instead of guilders.’

  ‘Tell me about it, I did the same thing with my jewellery purchase. If it’s not the rising price, then all I can think of is that the money man must be getting rid of some dodgy cash.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right.’

  ‘And you don’t mind? Bloody hell Simon, you’re learning at last, lad, I’ll make you streetwise yet.’

  Monday 12th November 1945

  He was up and about early, excited by Maaike coming back and anxious to get to a bank but first he had to go back to City Hall to collect his new ID card as the bank would almost certainly need some form of identification.

  Grietje was getting breakfast as usual but without having Irene to worry about. ‘What time is Maaike back?’

  ‘I have to meet her at Amersfoort at two thirty.’

  ‘You’ll be pleased to see her again, I suppose.’

  ‘Yes, very pleased.’

  ‘Me too, I know Irene is missing her, she told her grandmother all about her, and you too.’

  ‘Only good things I hope.’

  ‘Of course, and speaking of good things I’m cycling to work today. It will be the first time in so long, I can’t wait.’

  He was at City Hall as soon as it opened and, to both his amazement and relief, his new ID card, no longer bearing anything to identify him as a Jew, had been prepared and was ready and awaiting collection. His personal record card had been retrieved, undamaged by the fire, from Plantage Kerklaan. It bore his old Dijkstraat address, followed by an entry showing his transportation date and the Westerbork destination. He noted his new address in Slootstraat had been added.

  On Jos’s recommendation he went to the Rabobank on Rokin. He presented himself together with his ID card and an introductory note from Jos to a counter clerk. He was extremely doubtful that Jos’s reference, however well it was meant, would carry much weight, but the clerk, who apparently knew him personally, was impressed.

  ‘Ah yes, Meneer van Loon, from the Café van Loon. He has had an account here for many years, a good customer and a very honest and reliable man. If I recall correctly, he spoke to me about you wanting to open an account some weeks ago.’

  To his surprise the creation of an account was relatively easy and took only a matter of minutes. He deposited 200 guilders and told the clerk he was expecting a large amount to be deposited or transferred into the account within days. The clerk assured him that, providing the funds were not in cash, were the proceeds of a genuine business transaction, and came from a reputable source, there would be no problem. Clearly, having Jos van Loon as a referee carried an amazing amount of influence.

  Feeling guilty that the clerk was under the false impression that the forthcoming large deposit was from a genuine business deal, he quickly collected his new account details and first ever bank book. The clerk even apologised that his cheque book would take a few days to arrive.

  Resisting the temptation to divert to Nieuwe Spiegelstraat, he made his way directly to Centraal Station. He wanted to look in the window to check on his father’s painting but he decided against it because he knew that, if he saw Berger, he would almost certainly weaken and hand over the balance in order to get the painting back.

  He arrived in Amersfoort an hour before Maaike’s train was due, so he waited in the station buffet with a coffee and a newspaper. The news was all about the fierce fighting that was taking place in Surabaya as the war in the East Indies intensified. He put the paper aside, unwilling to read any more about yet another war. Instead he pondered over how he was going to tell Maaike his plans for the future and, more importantly, how he was going to persuade her to join him. Now that the gold sale was all but complete, he had a new ID card and bank account and Berger had been found, if not yet actually challenged, his path ahead was clear and he knew exactly what he wanted to do but it had to include Maaike.

  The train was a few minutes late and he was waiting anxiously on the platform as it finally pulled in. He saw her at the door and, opening it, she literally fell from the train into his arms and kissed him. The Friesland air had obviously agreed with her and clearly she had been eating well; she had rosy cheeks and her face no longer looked as grey and drawn as it had in Slootstraat. ‘Simon, I missed you so much!’

  ‘I missed you as well. Let me get your suitcase, the Amsterdam train leaves in three minutes. We really have to talk, I have so much to tell you. I’ve found him, I’ve found Berger, you’ll never guess who knows him, and he’s got father’s other picture. I changed my ID card, opened a bank account and I sold the coins and I’ve got nearly seven thousand guilders coming for them. Oh, and I went to my old shul and I’m thinking of…’

  ‘Slow down, slow down. I’ve got something to tell you as well, let’s talk on the train.’

  They settled into their seats and Maaike looked at him. ‘Go on, tell me all. I thought you had given up on Berger.’

  ‘No, you go first, it’s a really long story and I’ll probably still be talking when we get back to Amsterdam. Besides, I have one big thing to say, or to ask you rather. How was Aunt Nel?’

  ‘She was lovely, they all were. Uncle Johannes was at home. He fishes out of Harlingen and normally only gets home to Leeuwarden every few weeks, so I saw him as well, in fact I think all the Bootsma family came around to see me. They were all a bit shocked about my leg and they fussed over me to start with but when they saw I can manage quite well they relaxed a bit. They didn’t suffer too much in the war, thank goodness. Leeuwarden airfield was bombed by the Americans I think, and the Germans commandeered uncle’s fishing boat for two years so he couldn’t fish. The coastal area was restricted anyway, but food wasn’t too short for them last winter. In fact they helped people from Amsterdam who were starving and came to Friesland looking for food.’

  ‘You look really well, it obviously suited you up there. Fresh air and good food, I suppose.’

  ‘It was wonderful. Clean, not like Amsterdam at all, wide open spaces, a much slower pace, everything was lovely. I’d forgotten how nice Leeuwarden was, after all I was very young when we left. My family made me feel very at home.’

  ‘I thought you said there was nothing there for you?’

  ‘I did, but this visit has made me see things differently. It’s made me realise I don’t want to be in Amsterdam anymore. After all, I only stayed here in the hope my papa would return.’

  ‘You want to leave?’ He was initially terrified she wanted to leave him, but then suddenly hopeful that it might be easier to persuade her to go away with him on the adventure he had planned.

  ‘Only if you come with me, I don’t want to leave you. If you don’t come, then I’m not going.’ She looked at him and felt for his hand. ‘I love you Simon, and I want to be with you wherever I go.’

  ‘But where to?’

  ‘To Leeuwarden. I told Aunt Nel and Uncle Johannes all about you, all about us, and they wan
t to meet you.’

  ‘You told them I’m a Jew?’

  ‘I told them all about you, absolutely everything, how you survived the camp but lost your family and how much you mean to me. They have a very small house my uncle’s mother left to him, they said you could rent it and live there.’

  ‘But what about you?’

  ‘I’d have to live with them of course, we couldn’t live together unless we were… Anyway, both the boys have left home and uncle is away a lot so there is plenty of room just for me and Aunt Nel.’

  ‘I don’t know. I have to be with you and if you want to go then of course I’ll go too, but Leeuwarden for the rest of our lives? I’m not sure.’

  ‘We don’t have to decide now. What about that plan for the future you mentioned? I hope that still includes me. We could go to Leeuwarden until you make a final decision, perhaps.’

  ‘I have got this crazy idea, you might not like it but of course it includes you.’

  ‘Go on, tell me, don’t keep me in suspense any longer. I don’t really care where we go or what we do so long as we are together.’

  ‘Not yet, I still need to sort it all out in my head. First though I must tell you all about what’s been happening while you were away.’

  He told her how he had seen Berger at van der Meer’s and then found him and his shop thanks to information van der Meer had given him and that his father’s missing painting was in the shop window.

  ‘He said he’d bought it from a woman recently, but of course that’s a lie. He had a watch that was obviously my father’s work too.’

  ‘So there was a watch matching the invoice after all?’

  ‘Yes, father issued an invoice and made a watch but I’m sure Berger never paid for it.’

  ‘What are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Jos is going to come up with something, he doesn’t want me to accuse him outright.’

  He told her about his new ID card and opening a bank account.

  ‘And what about the coins? You said 7,000 guilders, that’s a fortune!’

  ‘Abraham Hirschfeld came to the bar again, weighed it all up and gave me a price. He’s not financing it all himself though, he’s got a backer who’s going to pay me with a banker’s draft, which puts the money straight into my bank.’