Hanna had paled, and her hand pressed against her throat. “It’s all right, Hanna,” said Jules softly. “Herr Wuerst will think of an answer.” He looked over hopefully at the slim man, his hooded eyes showing signs of fatigue.
Wuerst nodded. “I would like the following as soon as possible. First, meet with your rabbi and explain to him about Frau Charnoff’s situation in full detail. Then I want to have a word with him. Second, I will need four hundred marks for expenses. Third, I will need a truck.”
“We’ll take care of everything,” said Fergl. “When will you need the money and truck?”
“Directly after I speak with the rabbi.”
“Can you let us in on your plan?” asked Rosenthal.
“Later,” said Wuerst gently, but firmly. He held out his cup to Hanna.
“But I can use another coffee, please.”
Later in the morning, Rabbi Gluck left Jules’ library, where he had been closeted with Wuerst for only ten minutes. His eyes were gleaming, and he gave the merest of goodbyes before hastening out of the house. Wuerst soon followed, joining his men at the curb where his car and a truck were standing. They took off at once.
The day passed slowly for Hanna. She prepared a tasty supper with Frau Weiss, played with Paul when he returned from school, and sat in the parlor reading with Jules until it was time to go to bed. She lay awake for a long hour, wondering whether Jules had gotten some sleep at his office, for his stealthy descent to the parlor to stand guard each night had not escaped her. She would not say anything. It was his badge of honor.
The following evening, as the two sat reading, the phone rang. Jules grabbed it up, listened carefully, and then hung up. He immediately put in a call to Fergl. “Uncle Freddy, come at once. Please pick up Herr Rosenthal on your way.”
All were waiting on pins and needles when Wuerst arrived. His face was lined, but his eyes were bright. He took a schnapps gratefully, downed it in one long draw, then took another at which he sipped.
“Yesterday morning,” he said carefully, “I asked Rabbi Gluck for a great favor, which he agreed to do. When I left, I went to a gravestone engraver at a village east of Stuttgart and paid over your four hundred marks. That evening, working at full speed with an assistant, he completed what I ordered. Late last night, my men and I began work positioning what he had prepared. We managed to finish before dawn. Just after lunch, one of my men contacted the Russian agents at their hotel. He said that he had heard they were inquiring about a Mordecai Gulman. He asked whether they would pay for that information.”
Hanna let out a gasp of disbelief. Wuerst held up his hand for attention, and then went on. “The Russians agreed to twenty marks, so after being paid, my man said there had been a Jew named Mordecai Gulman living in Stuttgart, but he had died and been buried under the name of Jakob Golub.” The detective sipped at his drink again with pleasure. “The Russians became quite excited at that name and drove my man to the cemetery he had mentioned. While inspecting the gravestone, with some satisfaction, I must mention, one of the Russians looked at a stone next to Herr Golub’s. He almost jumped out of his shoes. Both of them made so many notes in their books that my man thought they would never leave. Before parting, they even gave him another ten marks.” Wuerst now allowed himself a full smile. “The stone next to Herr Golub’s carried the name Hanna Barlak Timoshinkov, who had died four months after him.” He allowed himself a smile at Hanna. “Her date of birth was the same as your very own. When they left, we followed them back to the hotel. They immediately packed and checked out. By now, they should be halfway to Russia. My men are now replacing the stone that was previously there.”
He lifted his glass. “I would like to offer a toast. To Rabbi Gluck, who arranged for an action completely against his moral belief. To save a life.” He bowed to Hanna. “I think you will be safe now.”
CHAPTER 38
The 11th of December, 1913
Stuttgart
My dear Bernard:
Jules is not well. Martha met me for lunch yesterday, and it was all we spoke about. He does not seem to be able to get over the loss of Natalie. I guess much of it is because the eleven months of mourning have ended, and perhaps he feels that she is really gone now. If it was not for Paul, I think he would just run off somewhere. That Paul, though, is the most wonderful boy in the world. Jules started him playing the violin. He can barely get it to his shoulder, but he grits his teeth and practices.
I am so happy that you will be down to the Bodensee for our summer vacation. Time seems to go like ‘poof’ each time we are together. I have thought over many times how you always seem to know exactly what I feel. You seem to know everything.
My business just keeps growing. I bought out the mattress manufacturer that is next to my factory. We will open a wall and connect the two. The company did very badly. The owner said it was because of high prices in cotton, but it is him. He drinks all the time, and I hear he tries to sleep with all the young girls in his plant. He was down to fifteen workers. Anyhow, I needed the space. I have now over one hundred employees. Friedrich wants me to begin manufacturing army uniforms. The German army is changing from blue to gray, and everyone has more work than they can handle. I could use part of the mattress building for that. It means putting on an additional fifty operators, but my bank is ready to allow all the credit I need.
I did not like the mattress operation, so I applied for a contract making tents, the small ones that officers use. I put in a very high bid and was surprised to get the order. I will have to double the workforce over there to keep up. Fortunately, much of the mattress making equipment can be used to make tents. Then last week, I was asked to take a contract for back packs. The price was so high that I could not turn it down, so I plan to move two of my shirt lines into the building next door, just for that.
Enough of business in this letter. The detective agency at Königsberg says it is still unable to find any trace of my family. The owner was very honest. He said that sending in fifty people will not make a difference, so why spend the money. I cannot agree, though. I must make the effort, regardless of whether it makes sense or not. The situation in Russia is very troubled. Strikes, marches, fighting in the streets. I pray every day that that murderer, Tzar Nicholas Aleksandrovich, is thrown out. Did I ever tell you we had a rooster named Nicholas Aleksandrovich? Papa used to call him The Cossack and promised a hundred times to put him in the cooking pot. I wonder what happened to him.
I do not know how I can come to visit you during the Christmas holidays. There is always so much to do here. All right. I will try.
Goodnight, my dear friend. Do not work too hard. I know you often go without eating. You should always eat at a proper time each day, no matter what.
With much affection,
Hanna
The 11th of February, 1914
Amsterdam
My dear Hanna:
I cannot tell you how wonderful it was having you spend the New Year's Eve here with me. My father and mother have not stopped speaking about you. They are still trying to discover if we spent the nights together. At thirty-eight years of age, I should be allowed some debauchery, don't you agree? Of course, if they knew you better, they would not worry about their innocent son. I am glad you liked the necklace and earrings so much. My father has a contact with bandits plying the Persian Gulf, and they sent the pearls for my gift. They even asked if my father would like to join one of their forays.
That serious case of mine, Baby Eleanor, is now well, but it was touch and go for over a month. We have more and more emergencies like that come up, so I hope Jules and the Fergls understand my inability to come there for the festivities, and my stealing you away. I felt so sorry having you take such long train rides up and back, but for me, it was worth every minute. My associates still laugh at your attempt to speak Dutch. They are enchanted by you. My associate, Cort, says he will join me in kidnapping you. For a Dutchman, that's the same as a Frenchman preparing to die f
or you.
I know I imposed a veil of silence on myself about asking you to consider caring for me, but I thought I should let you know that the offer of the affections of a certain Dutch Doktor is still as bright and shiny as when he first gave it. Now, I think I should be permitted one reckless sentence.
Goodnight, my beautiful Hanna. I miss you very, very much.
Always,
Bernard
Thank heavens for the end of winter, thought Hanna, as she left the streetcar and walked to Jules’ house. It was the Sabbath, and she hurried, for she lit the candles every Friday, and it was close to sundown.
Jules and Paul were waiting, and Paul came running to open the door for her. He hugged her tightly.
“How you grow!” exclaimed Hanna, kissing him soundly. “All the way from yesterday you are already a centimeter taller and a kilo heavier.”
“I can play Kuck-Kuck on my violin, Tante Hanna. Come, hear it.”
“What wonderful news. But first you must stand by me when I light the candles. Then we will hear you play.”
She kissed Jules on the cheek as she pulled off her coat and hurried into the dining room. Everything was waiting, the two candles in their holders and matches next to them. She drew a shawl over her head, put some coins on a dish for charity and lit the candles.
“Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, Who has sanctified us by Thy commandments, and has commanded us to kindle the Sabbath light,” she said, drawing her hands towards herself over the flames. Then she added silently, “And watch over the souls of Motlie and Israel, my parents, and of Jakob, of my Uncle Sam, and of my friend, Natalie. And take care of Gitel and Reba, Zelek and Stephen, and of Mr. Katzman and his son, and of Mr. Wilson. Thank you, Lord.”
She always had to compose herself after the benediction for the Sabbath was to be a festive occasion. She turned to Paul standing quietly by her side. “Now, I want to hear you play.”
He grinned as he took her hand and led her into the parlor. His music stand was already set up. “You sit here,” he said, leading her to a chair in front of the stand. “And you sit over there, Papi,” he told Jules, who dutifully took his seat. Paul lifted his violin and bow, and began to play. It was good, Hanna realized, not just for a boy of seven, but for a lad with many more lessons.
At the end, she applauded vigorously. “Good, Paul, good!” she said with gusto. “Do you have another?”
“Yes. Brahms’s Lullaby. But I don't know it well.”
“It makes no difference. You are doing fine.”
With a smile of pleasure, he played the second tune, going back to the start each time he made a mistake. After a while, he got through it properly.
Hanna applauded once more with equal enjoyment. “Perhaps next week you can play both again,” she said.
“I'll need more time to practice the Lullaby, Tante Hanna.”
“We will listen while you practice.”
Jules was sitting quietly, a half empty schnapps glass in his hand, gazing at his son, but actually seeing past him. Hanna got up. “Come on, Jules. To supper.”
He placed the glass on a stand and rose. At the table, he looked over at Hanna. “How is that business of yours going?”
“Very well. The backpacks are doing best of all. Whoever was making them in the past must have reaped a fortune.”
“Did you make one for me, yet?” asked Paul.
“It will be ready next week. You are too small a soldier. I will have to make it special.”
“Uncle Freddy and Tante Martha invited us over after supper,” said Jules.
“Very well. Of course, I talk to him by phone half a dozen times a day, but a social visit would be good.”
Jules chuckled. He had eaten very little as usual, and it was showing on his face and frame. He had lost five or six kilos since Natalie's death. “Oh, yes. Your car will be delivered next week.”
“Thank you for helping me.”
“I wish you had gotten a bigger one. A roadster is fine for sports driving, but you will need a larger one to carry all that money to the bank.”
Hanna smiled. “It does seem strange to earn more money than you spend.”
“What's this I hear about you buying Bleck's cotton mill at Göppingen?”
Hanna's eyes suddenly grew alert. She stared closely at Jules. “Where did you hear that?”
“At Kemple's restaurant. Bleck's bookkeeper said something to someone, who spoke to someone else. Why, did he let the cat out of the bag?”
“Yes, badly. Are you sure it was the mill's bookkeeper?”
“That's what I heard.”
“I will check on that. Yes, I put in an offer. Herr Bleck had overstretched himself. His bank cut back his line of credit.”
“Aren't you biting off a pretty big piece yourself?”
“Since my second contract, I refused to take on any debt without a written agreement with the bank for a specified line of credit over a specified period. I usually make the repayment term ten to twenty percent shorter than the contract term. That makes me always push a little harder.”
Jules laughed. “You don't know how much Uncle Freddy, and I admire you. When we think of that girl who came over to fix Natalie's dress...well, it's like a different person.”
“I am a different person, Jules. But only as it relates to business.”
He nodded. “We know that. What is hard to understand is how you took to it so quickly.” He rose and poured a glass of schnapps from a bottle resting on a sideboard and swallowed half in two gulps. Hanna said nothing, although he was drinking more and more. Paul was fidgeting. “All right, Paul. What are you jumping about for?”
“I'm tired of sitting at the table, Papi. May I play with the train set?” Fergl had given him a larger model for his birthday.
“Very well.” As he bolted from the room, Jules eyes followed him, reflecting. You were right about him, Hanna. He acts like a lightweight now and then, but underneath he does have the steel you spoke of.”
“He is you son...and Natalie's. Did you expect anything else?”
“I really didn't know. There's a lot of you in him, too. Maybe the steel came from you.”
“A person can only work steel. It has to be there from the start.”
“Have you ever taken credit for anything in your life?”
She grinned as she thought of something. “Way back there, twelve years ago, our cow was having trouble delivering her calf. I was told to slap her face to help, and I punched her so hard that the calf came like it should.”
Jules laughed. “In all that bag of yours, is that the best you could pull out?”
Hanna pushed a few bread crumbs into a pile, the memory still written wistfully on her lips. Then she sobered. “Hershel - Levi - was there with us that night.”
Jules sat back into his chair and sipped at his drink. “Next Shabbas, Hanna, when you light the candles, will you say a word for Natalie?”
“I always do.”
Jules sat silent for a few moments, and then he cleared his throat. “Well, let's get over to Uncle Freddy's.”
Summer weather came early, and Hanna's companies seemed to prosper with each degree of heat. She now had over three hundred people working for her, and no matter how large her debts, there was always a surprising surplus at the end of each month. Each week, when she brought together her managers, she continued to stress quality and efficiency, and some debated just how tough she really was - until she gained control of Bleck's cotton mill. Her immediate dismissal of the errant bookkeeper put that to rest.
It was at the end of June when Elfriede knocked at her office door directly after finishing the preparation of her work schedules. An occasional Sunday was the only day they could work together without interruption. The young woman had grown into a general manager of such skill that Hanna had entrusted her with the supervision of the entire clothing manufacturing operation. Her face was flushed with excitement.
“Frau Charnoff
,” she said.
Hanna looked up from her paperwork. “Yes, Elfriede.”
“Those Serbians. They have just assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand.”
“Archduke Franz Ferdinand? Who is he?”
“He is the heir to the crown of Austria,” said Elfriede with great emphasis.
Hanna cocked her head, thinking. “Thank you, Elfriede.” Once she was alone, she put in a call to Fergl's house. He answered it at once.
“Friedrich, this is Hanna. What is this about Archduke Franz Ferdinand?”
“It's all over the papers, on the telegraph, and probably written on walls by now.”
“What does it mean?”
“Mean! Those Serbian idiots are going to get their tails ground up by Austria.”
“Do you mean war?”
“You can bet that Austria-Hungary is going to ask for ten kilos of flesh, and those crazy Serbs are going to refuse.”
Hanna remained quiet for a few seconds, trying to digest what Fergl was implying. “How will it affect Germany?”
“We'll be in it, you can put another bet on that. Anyhow, we'll learn more tonight. Jules has been ordered to report to his headquarters. He is a reserve leutnant, you know.”
CHAPTER 39
Enemy of the Tzar Page 38
