I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 136: Chapter 46: The Second Move to Resolve the Situation

The next afternoon, Werner sat in a state-run cafe, a cup of cold ersatz coffee before him.

The cafe was near Alexanderplatz. The decor was dated, with a few faded socialist propaganda posters hanging on the walls.

There weren’t many customers—just a few workers in gray overalls smoking in a corner. A news program from the East German National Radio was playing on the radio.

Werner glanced at his watch. 2:45.

The door swung open, and Section Chief Klein from the Foreign Trade Department’s Quota Division walked in.

He wore a sharp suit, his hair combed meticulously. He scanned the room, spotted Werner, and walked over to sit down.

"Sorry I’m late." Klein took off his hat and placed it on the table. "A meeting at the ministry ran long."

"It’s fine." Werner waved over a waitress. "Coffee?"

"Please."

The waitress was a woman in her forties with a blank expression. She jotted down the order and disappeared behind the counter.

Klein took out a cigarette case, offered one to Werner, and then lit one for himself. Smoke rose slowly between them.

"How did that last batch of West German coffee go?" Klein asked in a low voice.

"It went smoothly," Werner said with a nod. "I got it for eight Marks a kilogram, and the quota price you approved was thirty-five. We split the difference. I already have your share ready."

Klein took a drag from his cigarette, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I’ve got a few more quotas this month. Fifty kilograms of Italian olive oil. And two hundred kilograms of bananas."

"Bananas?" Werner’s eyes lit up. "It’s still a long way from Christmas. You can get a shipment like that approved?"

In East Germany, bananas were an extremely rare "luxury item." The state might allocate a symbolic few as Christmas approached, so a large quantity appearing at any other time of year meant a massive opportunity for profit.

"Special channels," Klein said, his voice low. "On paper, it’s a welfare quota for the trade union and a few state-owned enterprises. You know how it is with bananas—the supply from Cuba is never enough, so you can’t get much through normal channels. But the official price is high, and market demand is even higher."

"I understand," Werner said. "Over in West Berlin, I can get bananas for thirty percent of the official price, and olive oil for about forty percent."

Klein thought for a few seconds, then nodded. "Alright. I’ll approve the quota at the normal price, and you’ll handle the low-cost procurement. Same old arrangement: a seventy-thirty split on the profit. Bananas only show up in stores around Christmas. If we get our hands on them now, they’ll sell in an instant."

"No problem." Werner paused. "But things have been a little tense lately. Will there be any problem with your approval documents?"

"Shouldn’t be." Klein flicked his ash. "The Stasi are cracking down on black market profiteering, but we’re using official quotas. The books will all add up. You just have to be careful with procurement and don’t let anyone find out the actual purchase price."

"Understood," Werner said quietly. "I go through a contact in West Berlin. Cash transactions, no records."

Klein nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Have the goods ready by the end of the month. I’ll get you the approval documents next week."

Werner nodded thoughtfully, then asked as if it were an afterthought, "By the way, I heard the Stasi is conducting an internal purge?"

Klein glanced up at him. "How do you know that?"

"Word on the Black Market," Werner said with a shrug. "Everyone’s talking about it. They say the Stasi is getting serious this time, not even sparing their own."

Klein was silent for a few seconds, then took a drag of his cigarette. "There is a purge. They say a West German spy has infiltrated, and the higher-ups are taking it very seriously."

"So, will our business get investigated?" Werner lowered his voice. "I mean, if the Stasi really starts targeting the Black Market, what if they trace it back to the Foreign Trade Department’s quotas..."

Klein’s expression grew serious. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and stared at Werner. "You’re worried about this?"

"Of course I’m worried," Werner said. "This business of ours isn’t a huge deal, but if the Stasi gets involved, we’ll all be in deep trouble."

Klein didn’t speak, seemingly lost in thought.

Werner continued, "And I heard the Stasi’s investigation is very strict this time. A Stasi agent, name of Anna Claus, is apparently under investigation as well."

Klein’s fingers froze. "You know her?"

"We’ve met a few times," Werner nodded. "She’s Stasi, responsible for monitoring the Black Market. She’s approached me a few times before to ask about what’s going on there."

"What did she ask?" Klein’s tone turned cautious.

"Nothing special," Werner said. "Mainly who was doing business on the Black Market, where the goods came from, and what was being sold. I thought she was very professional, very thorough with her questions."

Werner paused, then added casually, "Oh, and she also asked me to keep an eye on a few people for her."

Klein’s gaze sharpened instantly. "What people?"

"Some Stasi personnel who were buying things on the Black Market," Werner said. "She said their behavior was suspicious, that they might be trouble, and asked me to watch their movements."

Klein took a drag from his cigarette and said nothing.

Werner went on, "I didn’t think much of it at the time. Figured it was just her job. But now that she’s under investigation, I’m a little worried."

"Worried about what?"

"Worried that if she really is dirty, the Stasi will follow her trail to me?" Werner lowered his voice. "And if they get to me, will they find out about the Foreign Trade Department’s quota business?"

The color drained from Klein’s face. He stubbed out his cigarette, lit a new one, and took a deep drag.

"You’re overthinking it," he said, though his tone lacked conviction. "The Anna Claus business has nothing to do with us."

"I hope it doesn’t, too," Werner said. "But Section Chief Klein, think about it. If the Stasi really uncovers a link between Anna and the Black Market, they’ll definitely investigate everyone she was in contact with. I’m one of her informants; I’ll certainly be questioned. When that happens, if they ask who I do business with, what am I supposed to say?"

Klein fell silent for a moment.

Werner watched him and continued, "I also heard that Anna was investigating some of our competitors on the Black Market. I know a few of them. The things they were peddling... the sources overlap with ours. If the Stasi keeps digging, and they happen to find the Foreign Trade Department’s quota approvals..."

Klein jerked his head up. "Are you sure she was investigating those people?"

"Positive," Werner nodded. "She came to me specifically to ask about their activities on the Black Market. She said she suspected they were dirty and asked me to help monitor them."

Klein fell silent. He stared at the ashtray on the table, his brow furrowed.

Werner knew what he was thinking.

’If Anna really is dirty, then when the Stasi investigates her, they’ll uncover all her connections to the Black Market. And Werner is one of her informants. The Stasi will inevitably ask him who he does business with. When that happens, the Foreign Trade Department’s quota business will be exposed. But if Anna is clean, then she’s being framed. And the black marketeers she was investigating might be the real West German spies. Klein needs to make sure he doesn’t get dragged into it.’

After a moment, Klein spoke. "You said Anna had you watching those people. Who are they?"

"Low-level Stasi employees," Werner said. "An intelligence officer from the field operations department, a clerk from the records division, and a border patrol guard. They were buying suspicious items on the Black Market, like maps of West Germany, darkroom equipment, and radios. Anna said she suspected they had ties to West German intelligence."

Klein took a drag from his cigarette. "And then?"

"Then I reported what I knew about them to her," Werner said. "She told me she would continue investigating and warned me not to tip them off."

Klein sank into thought.

Werner said nothing, just waited quietly. He knew Klein was weighing the pros and cons.

The cafe was quiet, save for the sound of the news broadcast from the radio.

Finally, Klein spoke up. "Werner, do you think Anna is dirty?"

"I don’t know," Werner said. "But I think, if she were really a West German spy, why would she investigate other potential West German spies? Isn’t that a contradiction?"

Klein nodded, looking pensive.

Werner continued, "Besides, if she really were dirty, the Stasi would have arrested her already, not just put her under investigation. The fact that she’s only being investigated means the Stasi isn’t sure either."

"You mean..."

"I mean, maybe she was framed," Werner said. "The suspicious people she was watching were probably worried she’d expose them, so they struck first, reporting that she had connections to West Germany. That way, the Stasi’s attention is focused on her, and the real culprits are safe."

A flicker of understanding showed in Klein’s eyes.

Werner looked at him and lowered his voice. "Section Chief Klein, if that’s the case, then this purge is a setup by West German spies. They’re trying to use the Stasi’s internal cleansing to eliminate the people who are onto them. And Anna might just be the first victim."

Klein stubbed out his cigarette, tapped his fingers on the tabletop a few times, and then stood up. "I understand. I’ll take care of this."

"How will you take care of it?" Werner asked.

"Don’t ask questions that aren’t your business to ask." Klein picked up his hat and put it on. "As for the goods, proceed as planned."

"Understood."

Klein turned and left the cafe.