I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 114: Chapter 24: Security Deposit

"Why?"

"Because Krupp’s fall is also good for the Stasi," Werner said. "Krupp was entrenched in the Black Market for years and had a large crew. The Stasi have been wanting to pull that thorn out, but they never had the chance. Now the opportunity’s here, and they’d love for someone to solve this problem for them. It doesn’t matter who does the helping."

Eva fell silent.

Werner wasn’t just smart; he saw things with piercing clarity. He knew what everyone wanted and how to use their needs to achieve his own goals.

This made her more worried, and also more... captivated.

"So what’s next?" Eva asked softly, her gaze resting on Werner’s face.

"We continue doing business." Werner lit another cigarette. "Krupp has fallen. The Black Market needs a new order."

Eva looked at him, hesitated for a moment, and said, "By the way, Anna came to see me again recently."

A flicker of change passed through Werner’s eyes. "What did she ask?"

"The usual questions. She asked what you’ve been doing lately, who you’ve been in contact with," Eva said. "I told her some trivial things, just like you taught me. But..."

"But what?"

"She seems very interested in the Krupp affair," Eva said. "She asked if I’d heard any inside information."

Werner pondered for a moment, then said, "The next time she asks, just tell her what they’re saying on the Black Market—that Krupp was a spy who tried to frame me, a Stasi informant, but ended up exposing himself. Everyone on the Black Market is saying it, so if you relay that to her, you’ll have fulfilled your duty of monitoring me."

"Is that a good idea?" Eva was a little worried.

"It’s fine." Werner smiled. "Anna wants intelligence on me. If you feed her a mix of true and false information, she’ll feel you’re useful. Besides, the story about Krupp is basically what happened, so there’s no harm in passing it along."

Eva nodded, but her expression remained conflicted.

She looked at Werner and suddenly said, "Werner, aren’t you afraid that one day... you’ll play with fire too much and won’t be able to clean up the mess?"

Werner looked at her, seeing the worry in her eyes, and that faint, hidden trace of tenderness.

"Eva," he said softly, "in this era, if you don’t play with fire, you freeze to death. I’m just trying my best to survive. That’s all."

Eva bit her lip. In the end, she said nothing, simply lifting her coffee and taking a sip.

The bitter taste spread through her mouth, just like the era they lived in—a bitterness with a hint of sweetness that made it impossible to tell pain from hope.

The sound of footsteps from outside broke the delicate atmosphere between them.

Keller pushed the door open and came in.

"Boss, a lot of people from the Black Market have shown up. They all want to see you," a subordinate said. "They said that now that Krupp’s gone, they want to know what the rules of the Black Market are going to be."

Werner stood up and straightened his clothes. "Tell them I’ll give them an answer in a few days. Have them go back for now."

"Yes, boss." The subordinate nodded, turned, and left.

Eva looked at Werner and said softly, "Do you really plan to control the entire East Berlin Black Market by yourself?"

Werner looked back at her, a slight smile playing on his lips. "It’s not a plan. It’s already done."

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

Werner stood at the entrance to what was once Krupp’s warehouse, staring at the large, rusty brass lock on the door.

The warehouse was located deep in an alley in the Prenzlauer Berg District. From the outside, it looked like an abandoned coal shed, but the inside was another world.

"Boss, I got the key." His man, Franz, stepped out of the shadows, dangling a set of keys. "Krupp’s man, Koch, gave it to me. He’s scared to death right now, terrified the Stasi will follow the trail to him."

Franz used to knock around the Black Market himself. Werner had taken a liking to his quick wits a few months ago and recruited him.

Werner took the key and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

A musty smell mixed with the scent of machine oil hit him in the face.

Dozens of wooden crates were stacked inside the warehouse, most of them empty. In a corner were two cases of cigarettes from West Germany, a few rolls of nylon fabric, and a half-disassembled radio.

"Is this all that’s left?"

"Krupp ran out of stock a long time ago. He was just coasting on his remaining inventory toward the end." Franz kicked an empty wooden crate.

Werner walked to the center of the warehouse, where an old oak desk stood.

"This place is ours now," Werner said, leaning against the desk. "Get the word out. Everyone who wants stock is to come here at eight o’clock tonight."

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

By seven-thirty in the evening, the alley outside the warehouse was already packed with people.

Werner looked down from a small second-floor window. There were at least forty people.

There were Krupp’s old men, dressed in wrinkled work pants, their expressions tense. There were small-time peddlers from other districts, clutching empty cases, their eyes filled with desire. And there were a few unfamiliar faces lurking at the edges of the crowd, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

"More people than I expected." Keller stood beside Werner, clutching an iron pipe. "What if someone starts trouble?"

"They won’t." Werner lit a cigarette. "They’re all counting on me for stock now. Anyone who dares to start trouble would be messing with their own livelihood."

At eight o’clock sharp, Werner pushed open the warehouse’s main doors.

The crowd fell silent in an instant. All eyes turned to the entrance, like a pack of starving wolves staring at their food.

Werner stood at the entrance and didn’t speak right away.

He slowly scanned every face, letting the silence stretch for a full ten seconds.

Someone started shuffling their feet uneasily. Another swallowed hard.

"Gentlemen," Werner finally spoke. "Krupp’s era is over."

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

A middle-aged man in a worn jacket boldly asked, "So who’s in charge now?"

Werner looked at the man and slowly exhaled a puff of smoke. "I am."

No one dared to respond.

"The rules are simple." Werner flicked his cigarette ash. "If you want stock, you pay a security deposit first. Five hundred Marks for core members, two hundred for outer circle members, and fifty for independent operators. The deposit stays with me. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be responsible for getting you out."

The crowd erupted.

"Five hundred Marks? That’s highway robbery!"

"Why should we pay so much?"

"Krupp never charged a security deposit!"

Werner didn’t argue. He just turned and walked back into the warehouse.

Franz and Keller immediately blocked the doorway, crossing their arms like two guardian statues.

"Pay up or get out," Werner’s voice came from inside the warehouse. "I’m not short on customers."

The crowd was quiet for a few seconds, then some people started to push their way out. But more people stayed, hesitating.

Just then, a familiar figure stepped out from the crowd.

It was Old Baker, a peddler who sold chemicals on the Black Market. He used to get his stock from Werner often, even before the Berlin Wall went up.

He pulled out a wad of wrinkled Marks and waved it in front of Franz.

"Five hundred. I’m in."

Franz glanced inside the warehouse. Werner nodded.

Beck walked into the warehouse and placed the money on the desk. "Betelich, I trust you. You’re not like Krupp. All Krupp did was make empty promises, but you’ve got real ability."

Werner counted the money and looked up at Beck. "What do you trust me with?"

"I trust that you can get the goods, and I trust that you have connections with the Stasi."

Werner didn’t deny it. He just put the money in the drawer. "What goods do you want?"

"Developer, at least twenty kilograms. And fixer, as much as you can get." Beck licked his lips. "I have clients from three photo studios, and they’re willing to pay a high price."

"Come back in three days to get it."

Beck grinned, revealing a set of yellow teeth.

He turned to walk out. As he passed the doorway, he shouted to the crowd, "What are you all still standing around for? Betelich has all the goods! If you don’t pay up, you can get ready to starve!"

That seemed to break the dam. The crowd began to surge, and one by one, they walked into the warehouse.

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

Two hours later, the Marks on the desk had piled into a small mountain.

Werner did a rough count. He had collected over ten thousand Marks in security deposits alone.

"Boss, this is enough money to get a lot done," Franz said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "Should we go get a big shipment?"

"No rush." Werner divided the money into several piles and tied them with rubber bands. "Money isn’t the problem. The channels are what’s key."

He stood up and walked to the window.

The alley outside was empty now, with only a few dim, yellow streetlights swaying in the night.

"Franz, tomorrow I want you to go see Pastor Weber from the Church. Ask him about their recent need for charity supplies." Werner paused. "Remember, be sincere. Don’t let them think we’re just trying to use the Church."

"Keller, you go find Matthias. Ask him for the latest guard rotation schedule for the border checkpoints. Focus on the Friedrichstrasse and Bornholmer Street checkpoints. They have heavy foot traffic and are prone to problems."

"What about Ivanov?" Franz asked.

"Maintain the channel with Ivanov, but don’t expand it," Werner said, flicking his ash. "Soviet officers are reliable, but they’re also unreliable. They could be reassigned at any moment, and then the channel would be cut off."

Keller looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Finally, he asked, "Boss, what you’re doing is..."