Page 177 - harryDEC12_clean.iba

Once more it seemed that good fortune was preparing the way for me and I started wondering about the day when TYCHE - the goddess of fortune, would withdraw her support for good. May that never happen, I thought. But then fortune follows its' own rules, as we all know.
I did a quick calculation in my head: if I succeeded in placing the contract on the English Market, that would mean a commission of more than $US 250,000 a year, a large sum in those years. In addition the name of the client was first class - what an entrée that would be! I decided though not to tell that to my English partners until we would meet. That had to remain my trump card. I thanked Peter. I would show my appreciation. Later he gave me ample opportunity to do so, by paying his frequent visits to "up Market" brothels for which despite the fact that he pretended to be happily married he had developed and excessive vigor. A few days later Peter handed me a letter of appointment in the name of Cayzer Steel Bowater Ltd. addressed to Dr. Harry Weyrauch. Now I started to pack my things and sold the Aston Martin – a sad good bye, as one can also get attached to things - I would not be able to use it in London – and booked my flight for 10th January 1984, a one-way ticket. That gave me a queasy feeling because of the fateful decision, that I had taken and that would change my life once and forever - I thought. Then I invited Klaus Friedrich Weyrauch for lunch.
“I’ll keep it short,”
I said.
”I’m leaving the firm. This is a consequence of my conversation with Mr. von Plattberg – I assume you initiated that.”
Klaus Friedrich Weyrauch stared at me.
”How do you imagine that? That is your damned Slavic blood talking from you”
"It would be best if you announced I had received an excellent offer from London and would like to gather a few years of foreign country experience - that would cut out embarrassing questions, any further escalation of the situation that you - my father – have created. And we’d no longer have to live a lie,”
I answered. Klaus Friedrich Weyrauch reddened in the face, and he said,
“Then empty your office on the weekend. I’ll find a suitable replacement.”
Without another word he raised and left the place. As I have said before, he was a man of rapid decisions. A conversation on the situation was unnecessary. Klaus Friedrich Weyrauch was not a father. National Socialism had shaped him that way. Two days later I came back to my office in order to collect my personal belongings, there was Chris sitting at my desk! - A veritable traitor!
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