He looked at the objects lying on the floor, the overturned tables and chairs, the slashed paintings and torn-down curtains. Then, in an act of hopeless, unrestrained fury, he kicked a pile of books that had been pulled off the bookcase, sending them flying in all directions, and collapsed onto a leather armchair that had withstood all attempts at destruction, and stared expressionless at the floor.

“The end of the song,” he mumbled, “the end of the song.” He didn’t know exactly what he meant by that.

Something gleamed on the carpet. He picked it up. It was a party badge that one of the intruders must have lost. Silbermann studied the small swastika. “You murderer,” he whispered, “you murderer…” He put it in his jacket pocket.

“This is evidence,” he said out loud. “Sufficient evidence!” He reached into his pocket and clasped the badge tightly, as though he wanted to crush it. Then he took it back out and studied it once again. Finally he stood up.

“I’m going to examine everything,” he said. “I’m going to make sure everything is substantiated and then…” He didn’t know how to go on. He saw that they’d broken into his desk and the money stored there was gone. “Yes indeed,” he said, “yes indeed”—as if that gave him great satisfaction. But then he was overcome with despair.

If only I’d stayed, he thought. If only I’d stayed here! It would never have ended so badly. I would have talked to them, given them money. Because what else are they after? Nothing. I was never politically active. Never in my life. Only once did I buy a forbidden newspaper, but not a soul on earth knows about that.

Suddenly he had an idea. He hurried to the dining room and lifted the large Delft bowl off the credenza. Underneath he found her letter. He was so excited that when he tore open the envelope he damaged the contents. He pulled up one of the tall carved chairs, sat down, and read:

Dear Otto.

The people just now left the apartment, and they intend to come back. I called the doctor right away, because Herr Findler was badly hurt. Tonight I’m going to Ernst’s in Küstrin. I have no idea what I should do, but I’m not staying here another hour. I took the money from the desk. I’m giving Frau Fellner the key to the apartment and in Küstrin I’ll hire a carrier to retrieve the things. Please write immediately to Ernst’s address, but it’s better if you don’t come. Jews in the small towns are being treated even worse. The best would be if you went to Eduard right away!!! After all, I can come later. Please write at once, because I’m terribly worried about you …

The ending was hardly decipherable.