I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 135: Chapter 45: The First Move

Vonke flicked the ash from his cigarette. "Speak."

Werner took the folded intelligence file from his pocket and pushed it in front of Vonke. "We’ve noticed a few people in the Black Market recently. Their behavior is a little... how should I put it? It might be problematic, or maybe I’m just being paranoid. But I thought I should report it to you."

Vonke picked up the file, unfolded it, and glanced at the names.

His gaze sharpened instantly. "Do you know these people?"

"I don’t, but my men noticed them," Werner said. "The Black Market is only so big; we pay attention to who buys what. These people caught my eye because the things they were buying were a little... unusual."

Vonke stared at the names in the file for a few seconds, then looked up. "Be specific. What did they buy?"

"The first is Helmut Fischer." Werner pointed to the first name in the file. "A few months ago, he was asking around the Black Market for West German travel guides and geography magazines. My man asked him what he wanted them for, and he said it was a personal hobby, that he liked studying geography and travel. He ended up buying some West German-published landscape albums and atlases."

Vonke said nothing, just stared at the file.

"The second is Klaus Meyer." Werner pointed to the next name. "Two months ago, he was asking around the Black Market for a miniature camera. The kind that’s very small, that you can hide in a pocket. My man asked him what he wanted it for, and he said he wanted to take family pictures and thought a small camera would be convenient to carry."

Werner shook his head. "My man felt something was off, so he didn’t sell it to him. But later, he bought darkroom equipment and developing chemicals, saying he wanted to develop the photos himself."

"Darkroom equipment?" Vonke asked.

"Yes." Werner nodded. "The kind for developing photos at home. That sort of thing requires a ration coupon and is hard to come by, so he came to the Black Market. On the surface, he might genuinely be just a photography enthusiast. But, Comrade Vonke, if he was just taking family photos, why would he need a miniature camera? Why set up his own darkroom? Wouldn’t it be more convenient to go to a photo studio?"

Vonke’s fingers tapped lightly on the desktop.

"Third is Hans Schulz," Werner continued. "A month ago, he bought quite a few West German magazines on the Black Market. He said he was buying them for his wife—beauty and fashion magazines, since his wife likes to keep up with West German fashion trends. This sounds pretty normal; a lot of women like that sort of thing."

Werner paused. "But my man noticed that, besides the women’s magazines, the pile also included a few Western geography magazines and travel guides. My man asked him why he bought those, and he said he was just taking a look, that it was a personal hobby."

"And you think that’s a problem?" Vonke asked.

"I’m not sure," Werner said. "It could genuinely be a hobby. Or it could be... unusual."

Vonke took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling slowly into the air.

"The fourth and fifth are Fritz Lang and Otto Schmidt." Werner pointed to the last two names. "Lange has been asking around the Black Market recently how to acquire West German directories and address books, claiming he wants to find an old classmate in West Berlin. He hasn’t bought any sensitive materials, but he’s been asking constantly, very proactively."

Werner paused for a moment before continuing, "And Schmidt bought radio equipment last month. Said it was for a hobby."

Werner looked at Vonke. "Comrade Vonke, there might be reasonable explanations for all of their actions, but they could also... have other motives. I think... it’s worth paying them some attention, at least."

Vonke placed the file on the desk and lit a new cigarette. The smoke drifted slowly upward, and his expression grew more serious.

"You were right to do this," he said. "These people are definitely worth watching."

Werner nodded, then said as if he’d just remembered something, "Oh, and Comrade Vonke, there’s one more thing I must report to you."

"What is it?"

"It’s about Ms. Anna Claus," Werner said. "About two weeks ago, she came to me and asked about these people’s specific activities on the Black Market."

Vonke’s gaze sharpened instantly. "Anna came to you?"

"Yes." Werner nodded. "She said she was investigating these people, that she suspected there was something wrong with them, and she asked me to keep an eye on their movements in the Black Market. She wanted me to record what items they purchased, the times of the transactions, who they met with, and any other suspicious details."

Werner paused, then continued, "At the time, I thought it was just a normal part of the job, so I told her everything I knew. Besides, Anna said she’d been watching these people for some time but hadn’t been able to find any concrete evidence, so she wanted to approach it from the Black Market side to see if she could find a breakthrough."

Vonke took a drag of his cigarette, his expression complex as he looked at Werner. "What else did she say?"

"She told me not to alert them for the time being—to just keep doing business with them and observe their movements," Werner said. "She said if these people were really up to something, they would eventually slip up, and then we could round them all up at once."

Werner paused, then said, "Comrade Vonke, you instructed me before that if Anna had any more contact with me, I was to report it to you immediately. That’s why I’m reporting this now. I know it’s been two weeks, but I’ve been observing these people, wanting to wait until I had more leads to report. Now I feel the time is right, so I’ve come to see you today."

Vonke said nothing. He looked down at the file, his fingers tracing the edge of the paper.

The office was silent, save for the faint sizzle of the cigarette butt in the ashtray.

After a moment, Vonke looked up. "Are you still watching these people?"

"Watching," Werner said. "My men are still keeping an eye on their movements. But they seem to have become much more cautious lately. They’re showing their faces at the Black Market less, and they’re more careful when they buy things."

"They might have sensed they’re being watched," Vonke said, folding the file and putting it in a drawer. "You’ve handled this well. From now on, keep watching them, but don’t let them realize it. Report any new developments to me immediately."

"Understood," Werner nodded.

Vonke nodded, saying nothing more. He waved a hand. "Alright, you can go. Remember, keep watching those people. Report anything that comes up."

Werner stood up. When he reached the door, he turned back and said, "Comrade Vonke, if these people really are a problem, what do you intend to do?"

"That’s not your concern," Vonke said. "Just do your job."

Werner nodded, pushed the door open, and walked out.

He walked down the stairs, past the reception area, and pushed open the glass doors of the Stasi Building.

The night wind blew against his face, carrying the chill of early autumn.

Werner lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

’He knew Vonke would report the intelligence, and the Stasi would launch an internal investigation into those "suspicious individuals."’

’And in the course of that investigation, a doubt would form in Vonke’s mind: If Anna was really working for West Germany, why would she investigate these "comrades" who were potentially also West German spies? Why would she have Werner watch them?’

’The only explanation was that Anna wasn’t a West German spy. She was doing her job as a Stasi agent, secretly monitoring people who might be a threat.’

’And the investigation into Anna was very likely a setup by these same suspicious individuals to protect themselves—an attempt to use the Stasi’s own internal purges to frame and eliminate the very person who was onto them.’

’The logic wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to make Vonke hesitate.’

’And hesitation was Anna’s chance to live.’

’But this alone wasn’t enough. He needed a second move.’

Werner stubbed out his cigarette butt and vanished into the night.