Echoes Page 0,76

and didn't anticipate having one. As far as the world knew, she and Daphne were Catholics. She was a harmless widow with a young child, who needed nothing official, brought no attention to herself, and had escaped all official notice. But the same was not true of the Wittgensteins, who were fully visible as Jews. Beata scanned the papers every day to see if there was news of her family or the bank, if they had been asked to give it up. But so far, she had seen nothing.

In October 1938, seventeen thousand Jews of Polish origin were arrested in Germany and sent back to Poland. Then came Kristallnacht on November 9 and 10. And the whole world changed. Joseph Goebbelsorganized a night of terror that no one would soon forget, and got rapidly out of hand. It was the culmination of the smoldering anti-Semitism of the past five years, which finally burst into flame and became a conflagration out of control. Across Germany, a thousand synagogues were burned, seventy-six destroyed. Seven thousand Jewish businesses and homes were destroyed and looted, a hundred Jews were killed, and thirty thousand Jews were arrested and sent to concentration camps. All Jewish businesses were ordered turned over into Aryan hands. And in a single day, all Jewish pupils were expelled from public schools. And to add insult to injury, the Jews were told that they would collectively have to pay for the repairs of the damage done on Kristallnacht. The hatred in Germany had turned into a blaze. Listening to the news after the night of terror, Beata sat in her living room in shock.

It was a full two days before she dared to leave the house, with the unrest in the streets. She took a taxi and had him drive past her father's bank and house. There were police cordons around the bank, which showed marked damage to the exterior. And all the windows in her parents' house were broken. Both buildings looked deserted. She had no idea where her family had gone, and she didn't dare to ask the neighbors. Even appearing to be interested in the fate of Jews could have drawn attention to herself, and would have put her and Daphne at risk.

It was another week before she mentioned something casually at her own bank, which was entirely staffed by Aryans. She said she was very glad she had taken funds out of the Wittgenstein bank several years before, as she imagined they were in a mess now.

“They're closed,” her bank officer said bluntly. She couldn't even imagine what had happened to the funds they held for their customers, and wondered if the money had been seized by the Nazis, as most of their clients had been Jewish.

“I'm not surprised,” Beata said wanly. “What do you suppose happened to them?” Beata asked, trying to sound like nothing more than a curious housewife chatting with her banker in troubled times. The entire country was talking about Kristallnacht. As was the world.

Her bank officer lowered his voice to a near whisper when he answered, “My boss knew the family. They were deported last Thursday.” The day after Kristallnacht.

“How sad,” Beata said, feeling as though she were about to faint and determined not to show it.

“I suppose so. But they're Jews after all. They deserve it. Most of them are criminals anyway. They probably tried to steal everyone's money.” Beata nodded dumbly.

“Did they take all of them?”

“I think so. They usually do. Or now anyway. They didn't used to. But I think they've finally figured out that the women are as dangerous as the men. You can smell them.” Beata felt sick as she listened.

“They were quite a prominent family,” she said, putting her money away. She had come to cash a check exclusively for this purpose, to see what she could find out. And she had. Her whole family had been deported.

“Just be glad you took your money out of the bank. They'd have robbed you blind.” She smiled, thanked him, and left, feeling wooden, and wondering how she could discover where they'd been sent. There was no way to do so without exposing herself, anyone who inquired was at risk. And then in a last attempt, she asked the cab to drive past the house on her way home. It looked yawning and dark, and she could see that it had been looted. There were pieces of furniture on the street, the antiques her mother had loved so much. Clearly,