I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 112: Chapter 22: Vonke’s Suspicion

Werner’s expression didn’t change. "What sewer?"

"The secret sewer connecting East and West Berlin," Vonke said. "The one Krupp used for smuggling."

"I don’t know." Werner shook his head. "I have my own channels. I don’t need a sewer."

Vonke stared at Werner for a long time before finally standing up and walking to the window. "Werner Betelich, you’re a smart man. But people who are too smart are often the most dangerous."

Werner stood up as well. "Comrade Vonke, I’m just a small-time merchant trying to make a living in these chaotic times. I don’t have that kind of ambition, nor do I have that kind of ability."

"Let’s hope so."

Werner turned to leave, but Vonke suddenly called out to him again.

"Werner."

"Hm?"

"That spy equipment—the miniature camera, the codebook, the map—it’s all highly professional stuff." Vonke’s gaze grew intense. "Not something just anyone can get their hands on."

Werner looked back at him, his expression unchanging. "So?"

"So, if someone wanted to frame Krupp, they would also need equally professional equipment and channels," Vonke said slowly. "And there aren’t many people like that in East Berlin."

Their gazes met, and neither man looked away first.

A few seconds later, Werner smiled.

"Comrade Vonke, you’re overthinking things. I’m just a small fry in the Black Market. How could I have that kind of ability?"

He pushed open the door and stepped into the dim hallway.

The lightbulb in the stairwell flickered. On the wall was a poster with the slogan "Beware of Spy Sabotage." In the dim light, the large, red characters were especially jarring.

Behind him, Vonke stood in the doorway, watching Werner’s back disappear around the bend in the stairs.

He walked back to his desk, picked up the forged photographs, and examined them carefully under the light.

’The photographs were meticulously made, but the flaws were also obvious—so obvious it seemed they were left there on purpose.’

’And that spy equipment... its appearance was too timely, too much of a coincidence to be accidental.’

’Then there was the sewer route. Krupp had only been using it for a short time before the Stasi received precise intelligence and caught his man at the right place at the right time.’

’It was all as if someone had orchestrated it meticulously.’

Vonke put the photos back into the file, lit a new cigarette, and watched the smoke rise slowly in the dim light, twisting into strange shapes in the air.

’Werner Betelich.’

’This young man was far more capable than he had imagined.’

’Not only could he protect himself, but he could also counterattack his enemies, and he did it so flawlessly that he left nothing to be held against him.’

’But that also made him more dangerous.’

Vonke picked up the phone and dialed an internal number.

"Pull all of Werner Betelich’s files from the last three months. I want to go over them again."

******************

The interrogation room at Stasi Headquarters was on the second basement level. It had no windows, the walls were painted a ghastly white, and a single, harsh incandescent bulb hung from the ceiling.

The bulb emitted a low HUM as its light shone directly onto the interrogation table, leaving the person sitting opposite it completely exposed.

Krupp sat on the cold metal chair, his hands resting on the tabletop.

His suit was wrinkled and his tie was crooked, but he still tried to keep his back straight. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly combed, and the expression on his face was as calm as if he were at a business meeting. Only a subtle twitch at the corner of his eye betrayed his inner tension.

Vonke sat across from him, holding a file.

The interrogation room door was closed, with two guards armed with live ammunition standing outside.

"Mr. Krupp," Vonke said, opening the file, his tone flat. "Do you know why you’ve been brought here?"

Krupp cleared his throat, his voice still steady. "I believe there must be some misunderstanding, Comrade Vonke. I am a law-abiding businessman and have never done anything to betray our country."

"A law-abiding businessman?" Vonke looked up, his gaze sharp. "Then can you explain why there was spy equipment found in the goods your man was smuggling from West Berlin?"

"I don’t know." Krupp held up his hands. "Those things aren’t mine. I’ve never seen them before. Someone must be framing me."

Vonke took several photos from the file and laid them on the table.

The photos showed the Minox camera, the codebook, and the map marked with military installations.

"These items were discovered in your cargo," Vonke said. "Just last night, your subordinate, Schneider, was bringing a shipment back from West Berlin, and we seized it on the spot."

"Schneider?" Krupp frowned. "He’s responsible for transport, but I don’t know the specifics of his cargo. Perhaps he smuggled it in on his own, or someone planted it."

"Planted it?" Vonke sneered. "You mean someone deliberately put spy equipment in your cargo just to frame you?"

"It’s very possible." Krupp nodded, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "Comrade Vonke, you know how fierce the competition is on the Black Market. I’ve made plenty of enemies over the years. Someone surely wants to use you to get rid of me."

Vonke leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. The smoke rose slowly in the harsh light.

"Then what about these?" He took a few more photos from the file and pushed them in front of Krupp.

Krupp looked down, and his pupils contracted slightly—it was the photos he had Fritz forge, showing Werner meeting with that "Western Spy."

"You sent us these photos," Vonke said. "An anonymous tip, claiming Werner Betelich was colluding with a Western Spy."

Krupp was silent for a few seconds, then said slowly, "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You don’t know?" Vonke placed a letter on the table as well. "This is the tip. Handwriting analysis shows it’s yours. The postmark is from the Wedding District, a place you frequent. We’ve already arrested Schneider, and he confessed everything—you told him to find the photo lab owner, Fritz, to forge the pictures, and you paid him a thousand Marks."

Krupp’s fingers stopped tapping, but his expression remained calm. "Even if the letter is connected to me, so what? I was reporting a suspicious individual. That’s every citizen’s duty."

"Too bad the photos are fake." Vonke exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Our technical department verified it."

The color drained slightly from Krupp’s face, but he quickly regained his composure. "If the photos are fake, then that means someone else forged them and wanted to use me to frame Werner."

"Someone else?" Vonke sneered. "Schneider has already confessed that you personally ordered him to find someone who could forge photos. He asked around the Black Market and found Fritz. Fritz took the job, took the money, and made the photos. Schneider has laid out the entire process clearly."

He paused, his tone growing colder. "Unfortunately, that old fox Fritz ran off when we arrested Schneider, and now we can’t find him. But that doesn’t matter. Schneider’s confession is enough."

Sweat began to bead on Krupp’s forehead. "That only proves Schneider did something stupid. It doesn’t mean..."

"Doesn’t mean what?" Vonke cut him off. "Forging photos to frame someone is a serious crime. Besides... do you know what forging photos implies? Only people from Western intelligence agencies have that kind of professional skill. For an ordinary person to forge such detailed photos, they’d have to have connections to the West."

Krupp’s back stiffened even more. "I have no connections to the West."

"Then why was there spy equipment in your cargo?" Vonke circled around, leaned over the table with both hands, and stared into his eyes. "The Minox camera was designed by West Germany specifically for spies. The codebook uses the standard format of Western intelligence agencies. The military facilities marked on the map are all sensitive locations in East Berlin. These are not things just anyone can get."

More sweat appeared on Krupp’s forehead, but he still struggled to maintain his gentlemanly demeanor. "I told you, those things aren’t mine. Someone is definitely framing me."

"Framing you?" Vonke straightened up and began to pace slowly. "Then let me ask you, have you, for some time now, been using a secret sewer to smuggle goods? Yes or no?"

Krupp hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, but I was only smuggling daily necessities. It wasn’t a big deal."

"How did you find that sewer?"

Krupp gritted his teeth and said, "It belongs to Werner Betelich. He lent it to me."

Vonke’s eyes narrowed. "Werner lent it to you?"