“Is there something you want to tell us, Olga?”
She hesitated for a moment and then replaced her forced smile with narrowed eyes and curled lips. She set her hands on her hips and raised her voice. “Oh, no you don’t! I survived Treblinka; do you know that? I survived! They did not break me! You do not come into my house like the Gestapo and accuse me! Not now, not ever. Get out!”
Bernard spoke calmly. “We haven’t accused you, Olga. We want your help.”
“What help? Don’t take me for a fool, Bernard. I know why you’re here.”
Eli pushed his cup aside and leaned forward. “Do you know what kind of man you are doing business with, Olga? Maximilian Poleski is a liar, a thief and a Nazi collaborator. He was responsible for helping the Nazis commit terrible atrocities in Lublin. He’s a war criminal. And I hold him responsible for what happened to my family.”
Olga took a breath. “I’m sorry for whatever happened to your family, and I don’t know how or if Max is to blame. I don’t know the name Maximilian Poleski or if he’s the same person. To me, Max is a businessman with connections in the United States. He knows how to pull strings, how to cut through red tape. He can get a visa while the rest of you sit here in this lousy camp rotting like fruit on the vine. You should applaud a man like Max who can get people out.”
“For six thousand Swiss francs?”
She shrugged and answered smugly, “He provides a service. He has costs. If you want a visa badly enough, you’ll pay. No one’s forcing anybody to do anything.”
“He’s not going through lawful immigration channels,” Bernard said. “He’s selling visas to the highest bidder. What he’s doing is illegal, and you are helping him. We’re here to put a stop to this scheme and see to it that criminal activities are punished.”
Olga scoffed in denial. “I don’t think what he’s doing is illegal. Max told me he was working with people in Washington. How could that be illegal?”
Bernard lifted his eyebrows. “Olga, you know damn well it’s illegal. The U.S. doesn’t sell visas. How much was he paying you?”
“None of your business!”
Bernard stood, looked at Eli and said, “Okay, we’re done here. Olga, you’re finished at Föhrenwald.”
“What do you mean ‘finished’?”
“I mean goodbye. Pack up; you’re leaving.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Why don’t you buy a visa?”
“Very funny.”
Bernard leaned forward. “Where’s Max?”
She smirked. “Are you and the mighty camp police going to arrest him? Good luck.”
“As soon as we catch up with him, I assure you he will be arrested. And you as well, Olga. You have both committed crimes.”
“This is a U.S. DP camp. The camp committee doesn’t own it.” Her sly smile widened. “Your camp police aren’t even real. And your Honor Court has no authority, Bernard.”
“It isn’t the camp committee that will be prosecuting you and Max. The United States Army has plenary jurisdiction over Camp Föhrenwald. Judgment of the military courts is swift and final.”
Olga’s smile disappeared. Then her eyes widened as though an idea came to her. “But the army didn’t come here tonight, did they? You came here.”
“That’s right, Olga.”
She looked at Eli and then at Bernard. She understood there was a play for her. “You could have sent the military police, but you two chose to come here alone because you want my help, am I right?”
“That’s the first thing we said when we walked in the door. Now you’re getting smart. How much did Max pay you?”
She tipped her head from side to side. “If I brought him a customer, I was supposed to get twenty-five percent.”
“How many of our residents did you bring to Max?”
“Six.”
“Does that include Chaim Warshawski and David Fromen?”
She nodded.
“How many paid money or property to Max and didn’t get their visa yet?”
“Three. Max says he’s waiting for the visas to come from Washington. He’s sure they’ll come. He just doesn’t know when.”
“Who is his contact in Washington?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He would never tell me. Maybe he figured I’d go into business for myself and cut him out of the profits.” She smiled broadly. She had teeth missing.
“When is he scheduled to return to Camp Föhrenwald?”
“Not until there’s a reason. Either he’ll bring the visas for Chaim, David and Sylvia or he’ll come for a new customer.” She paused. “You want me to get him here, don’t you? You want me to get him here so you can arrest him.”
Bernard sat down and folded his hands on the table. “That is exactly what I want you to do. I want you to reach out to Max and tell him that you have two new customers for him. Tell him they have the money.”
“He’ll want to know who they are.”
“Tell him it’s Joel and Leah Weisman.”
“The doctor?”
Bernard nodded. “And his wife.”
“I’ll write to him. I have an address in Munich where he gets his mail, but there’s no guarantee he’ll come.”
“How many other camps is he working?”
“I’m not sure. I know Landsberg and Feldafing. I’m sure there are others, but I don’t know which ones.”
Bernard stood. He pointed his finger and spoke emphatically. “Olga, you write to Max. Tell him Dr. Weisman and his wife want visas. Tell him they’re desperate. Set an appointment as soon as you can. But be careful, Olga. If you betray us, if you tip him off, I’ll turn you straight over to the U.S. Army.”
“And if I help you, then this whole thing goes away?”
Bernard nodded. “We’ll tell them about your cooperation. You might have to come up with some restitution.”
Olga looked confused. “What restitution?”
“The money you took as a commission, Olga. The twenty-five percent.”
She laughed. “Oh, yeah, I’m wealthy. I got a total of fifty francs! Max still owes me my cut.”
Bernard opened the door. “I want to know as soon as you hear from him.”
* * *
Once outside, Eli said, “Does Joel know that you just offered him up as bait in a sting?”
Bernard smiled. “Not yet, but he won’t mind.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
FÖHRENWALD DP CAMP
AMERICAN ZONE
SEPTEMBER 1946
Four weeks later, Frau Helstein told Bernard she had received a communication from Max. She wanted to know what to do next. Bernard told her they would meet her at the assembly hall at eight o’clock, and together they would make a plan.
Eli, Bernard and Daniel sat in the empty assembly hall playing cards, passing time and waiting for Frau Helstein when a young woman entered, walked up to the table and asked for Bernard. “I am Bernard,” he said. “How can I help you?”
“Camp Föhrenwald is having David Klyber, the Yiddish poet, next Sunday.”