The Ambassador by Yehuda Avner & Matt Rees

The Ambassador by Yehuda Avner & Matt Rees

Author:Yehuda Avner & Matt Rees [Avner, Yehuda & Rees, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, General, Thrillers, Political
ISBN: 9781592643882
Google: E7HHsgEACAAJ
Publisher: Toby Press
Published: 2015-01-14T11:00:00+00:00


Chapter 32

Up the marble staircase at Kurfürstenstrasse, Eichmann greeted Dan at the door of his office. “Baruch haba, adoni hashagrir,” he said. Welcome, Mister Ambassador. Dan’s contact with the Sturmbannführer was substantial enough for him to know that when Eichmann dropped a Hebrew phrase into conversation it was a sign of extreme good humor—except when it reflected insecurity and the need to show off his superior knowledge of Jewish culture. This instance was clearly a sign of the former. Eichmann’s face shone like a teen in the afterglow of his first sexual experience. The approval of his commander, Heydrich, seemed to linger deep within him after the successful concert at Countess von Bredow’s home. He clapped his hands and ushered Dan inside the rooms where the Jewish Brethren Club used to dole out charity to the community.

Dan took the day’s new set of emigration papers from his briefcase. He laid the stacks on the desk as Eichmann settled into his chair and slung a shiny jackboot over his knee.

“Come now, Herr Ambassador. Let’s not be in such a hurry. Sit, please.”

Dan had never before been invited to take a seat. He pulled up a swiveling office chair from the empty clerk’s desk in the corner. It left him lower than Eichmann, even as the Nazi reclined and lit a cigarette.

“Was it not a magical performance last night, Herr Ambassador? The Obergruppenführer was quite enchanted with your Herr Gottfried.”

“He’s an extraordinary musician, yes.” Dan slipped the pile of new applications across the desk.

Eichmann measured the stack with his thumb and forefinger. “Quite a collection you have for me once again.”

“We have our quotas to keep to.”

Eichmann pursed his lips. “Indeed you do.” The quota was Eichmann’s invention. To force Jews out of Vienna, in 1938, he had informed the local Jewish Council that they were to find four hundred of their people each day who were prepared to emigrate. He had instituted the same kind of system in Berlin. He required the city’s Jews to put forward the names of seventy families each week. Because of Nazi laws against the employment of Jews and restrictions on Jews in the professions, most were now destitute and couldn’t meet the minimal capital requirements necessary to obtain visas to Western countries. The advantage of immigration to Israel was that there was no such capital requirement. Any Jew could go, no matter how much of his wealth had been stolen by the Nazis. Which was why Dan’s pile of papers grew as opportunities for Jews to flee to the US or Western Europe diminished.

“This lot—” Eichmann flicked at the new papers on his desk “—will no doubt take me until Herr Gottfried’s next concert.”

Dan cleared his throat.

“The Führer will be enchanted by the performance,” Eichmann said. “I’m sure of it. The Obergruppenführer Heydrich is extremely gratified by the prospect.”

“Do you not think that it’s something of a risk?”

Eichmann frowned.

“The Führer has an…antipathy toward Jews,” Dan said. “I believe I do not go too far in saying such a thing.



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