Read Online A Murder in Auschwitz by J.C. Stephenson - Free Book Online
Authors: J.C. Stephenson
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camp.”
Berlin, 24th December 1929
LAWYERS did not work Christmas Day or Boxing Day in Germany, and the office was open only until lunchtime on Christmas Eve.
Meyer looked forward to his time with his family over the next few days. He would be able to look after Anna and Greta while Klara made preparations for Christmas lunch. But tonight was what he was most looking forward to. For the first time since arriving in Berlin, Manfred and Klara Meyer were going dancing.
A thin layer of snow lay as a sheet across the city, and Meyer could not help himself from scraping some up and forming it into a snowball before realising that he had no-one to throw it at. The cold from the snowball was beginning to penetrate his leather gloves, so he tossed it carefully into a wastepaper bin several metres away, hearing silent applause as it successfully toppled over the edge of the bin to rest amongst the day's discarded items. A woman herding two young boys along the street towards him saw this small triumph and smiled at Meyer, knowingly. Meyer smiled back and wished her a merry Christmas.
Meyer had taken to using the tram each day to get home, but today he wanted to stop by Wertheim department store on Leipziger Platz. He would get the tram home from there.
Meyer could see the sign above the door of the famous store across the street. There were some women looking in the windows, which were full of expensive dresses, hats, and shoes, pointing at the clothes which they were admiring. However, the windows which housed the toys had small crowds of children pressing up against the glass, dreaming of owning the toy trains, wooden boats, and tin soldiers, or the immaculately decorated dolls' house, miniature pram, and rocking horse.
Meyer crossed the road, making his way between the cars and trams. He only just made it across the street when an open-backed truck sped past, spraying the bottom of Meyer’s trousers with dirty slush. Meyer cursed and watched as the truck with the red flag of the Communist Party held proudly high by one of the men in the back rounded the corner, heading out of sight. Meyer looked down at his feet and trousers and brushed off what he could from his clothes, realising that it would be easier to clean once it had dried.
His temper didn’t last. He shrugged and smiled at the women who had watched him being sprayed by the truck. They laughed when he wished them a merry Christmas and suggested that communists would be missing out on getting Christmas gifts from him this year.
It was warm and friendly inside the department store. Ribbons and pine branches decorated the entrances of each department, and a Christmas tree dominated the elegant atrium, sitting just in front of a statue of Caesar. A huge, sun-faced clock shone down on Meyer from the second floor balcony. It was nearly two o’clock. He wanted to be home by four to give himself time to change before taking Klara out for a meal and dance. First, though, he was going to buy her a Christmas present.
The store was busy. The stock market crash didn’t seem to have affected the fortunes of Wertheim's. He made his way through the Christmas shoppers to the mahogany stairs at the rear of the atrium, where a brass-framed board indicated the location of each department. He checked the list and found that the jewellery department was on the first floor. Meyer skipped up the stairs until he was faced with a choice of direction; ahead hung various colourful women’s hats, and to the left, past the wood-panelled wall, lay scarves and gloves. He wandered slowly around the side of the atrium until he managed to pick out the glass cases which held the jewellery, near the huge windows on the side of the building.
It took him twenty minutes to find something that he thought would be perfect for Klara and which was in his price range. He asked one of the assistants behind the desk to see the silver oval locket, which hung
Berlin, 24th December 1929
LAWYERS did not work Christmas Day or Boxing Day in Germany, and the office was open only until lunchtime on Christmas Eve.
Meyer looked forward to his time with his family over the next few days. He would be able to look after Anna and Greta while Klara made preparations for Christmas lunch. But tonight was what he was most looking forward to. For the first time since arriving in Berlin, Manfred and Klara Meyer were going dancing.
A thin layer of snow lay as a sheet across the city, and Meyer could not help himself from scraping some up and forming it into a snowball before realising that he had no-one to throw it at. The cold from the snowball was beginning to penetrate his leather gloves, so he tossed it carefully into a wastepaper bin several metres away, hearing silent applause as it successfully toppled over the edge of the bin to rest amongst the day's discarded items. A woman herding two young boys along the street towards him saw this small triumph and smiled at Meyer, knowingly. Meyer smiled back and wished her a merry Christmas.
Meyer had taken to using the tram each day to get home, but today he wanted to stop by Wertheim department store on Leipziger Platz. He would get the tram home from there.
Meyer could see the sign above the door of the famous store across the street. There were some women looking in the windows, which were full of expensive dresses, hats, and shoes, pointing at the clothes which they were admiring. However, the windows which housed the toys had small crowds of children pressing up against the glass, dreaming of owning the toy trains, wooden boats, and tin soldiers, or the immaculately decorated dolls' house, miniature pram, and rocking horse.
Meyer crossed the road, making his way between the cars and trams. He only just made it across the street when an open-backed truck sped past, spraying the bottom of Meyer’s trousers with dirty slush. Meyer cursed and watched as the truck with the red flag of the Communist Party held proudly high by one of the men in the back rounded the corner, heading out of sight. Meyer looked down at his feet and trousers and brushed off what he could from his clothes, realising that it would be easier to clean once it had dried.
His temper didn’t last. He shrugged and smiled at the women who had watched him being sprayed by the truck. They laughed when he wished them a merry Christmas and suggested that communists would be missing out on getting Christmas gifts from him this year.
It was warm and friendly inside the department store. Ribbons and pine branches decorated the entrances of each department, and a Christmas tree dominated the elegant atrium, sitting just in front of a statue of Caesar. A huge, sun-faced clock shone down on Meyer from the second floor balcony. It was nearly two o’clock. He wanted to be home by four to give himself time to change before taking Klara out for a meal and dance. First, though, he was going to buy her a Christmas present.
The store was busy. The stock market crash didn’t seem to have affected the fortunes of Wertheim's. He made his way through the Christmas shoppers to the mahogany stairs at the rear of the atrium, where a brass-framed board indicated the location of each department. He checked the list and found that the jewellery department was on the first floor. Meyer skipped up the stairs until he was faced with a choice of direction; ahead hung various colourful women’s hats, and to the left, past the wood-panelled wall, lay scarves and gloves. He wandered slowly around the side of the atrium until he managed to pick out the glass cases which held the jewellery, near the huge windows on the side of the building.
It took him twenty minutes to find something that he thought would be perfect for Klara and which was in his price range. He asked one of the assistants behind the desk to see the silver oval locket, which hung
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