Silbermann stepped inside. Sitting behind a desk was a thickset man in civilian clothes, who put down the newspaper he was reading and picked up a dossier.

“I’ve come to file a report,” said Silbermann, coming closer.

“Heil Hitler,” said the inspector, and looked at him expectantly.

“Good morning,” replied Silbermann. “As I said, I’ve come to file a report.”

“Are you a German?” asked the inspector, looking at a document.

“Of course,” Silbermann replied.

“Then kindly use the official German greeting. That’s obligatory here!”

“I’m a Jew.”

“So then you’re not a German!” The inspector closed the dossier and looked at him.

“Let’s deal with that another time,” answered Silbermann, making an effort to stay composed. “I’ve come to file a report!”

The man stroked his chin. “Are you aware that filing a false report is a punishable offense?”

“I have no intention of filing a false report.”

“In any case I advise you to carefully consider what you say.”

“Won’t you first hear my report?” asked Silbermann.

“So, you’re a Jew!” the inspector stated, nodding his head at his own remark.

“I came here to file a report!” Silbermann repeated for the fourth time.

“It is my duty to inform you that you’ll be liable for punishment if you…”

“Someone stole my briefcase on the train,” Silbermann interrupted, and his face started changing from pale to red. “It contained thirty thousand marks. Will you take my statement?”

The inspector placed a large paper form in front of him. “How did you come to have the thirty thousand marks?” he asked. He dipped his pen in the ink, carefully tapped it against the inkwell to knock off a small blob, and relaxed back into his chair. He observed Silbermann awhile, then leaned forward again and began writing.

“Name?”

“Otto Silbermann.”

“Do you have an ID?”

Silbermann handed him his passport.

“Good,” said the inspector and wrote down the number of the passport and various dates.

“The address that’s listed is still valid,” Silbermann explained.

The inspector registered that without comment. Then he looked up and said in a sharp voice: “I asked you how you came to have the money. Are you refusing to answer?”

“That money is what’s left of my estate,” Silbermann answered. “I was once a rich man.”

“And you go lugging it around inside a briefcase? That’s a little odd, I’d say! In which train is this supposed to have occurred?”

“In the train from Dresden to Berlin. In a smoking compartment in the second class.”

“Did you file a report with the railway police?”

“No, but I informed the conductor.”

“Why didn’t you file a report with the railway police?”

“Because I wanted to do it here.”

“Strange. So, you allege that on the train from Dresden to Berlin, in a second-class smoking compartment, you were robbed of a briefcase along with its contents of thirty thousand marks.”