Miss Spiteful's War
The Dominafuhrer 1952
Miss Spiteful's Gold
Give My Regards To Bremen
Storm Takes A Bow
Two Long Winters
Bonnie Ingrid Of The Argylls
A Soldier's Wife For Me
What Became Of The Lively Ladies?
Castanelli Meets The Order
Kelly From Calgary
Three On The Bed
Solace For Solitaire
The Early Morning Tease Maid
The Chevvy With The Fritz On Top
J Edgar Hoovering
Signals From The Past
Gold In The Grave
Morning In Manhattan
Six Hatch A Plan
Back To Berlin
Two Little Girls From School Are We
Spoiling Miss Spiteful
The Taming Of The Slave
Kaffee At KaDeWe
Sugar's Stroll In The Park
The Checkpoint Chorus
The GDR People's Silvery Moon
Into The Tomb
The Festival Is Over
The Stasi At Night
Old Photographs Never Lie
A Fair Exchange For Freedom
The Night Porter
Surgery En Suite
A Stiffie For Sapphire
The Torturous Twins
A Stilletto Up The Back
News From The East
We're Going To Wedding
Down In The Dungeon
Nappies, Knots and Needles
Walkies With Alfred
Black Marcius For Miss Spiteful
The Return Of The Dominant 7
Grab Your Knickers And Run
Vive La France
Showdown With Seraph
The Stories of Yvonne Sinclair
The Sacred Feminine
The Story Of T
The Weight Loss
A Caning By Miss Spiteful
Always On The Bare
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Long Weekend Conclusion
Robin's Electrical Torture
Slave To The Cane
The Escape Artist
The Huntress Caning
The Language School
The Worm's View
The Bossy Bank Women
Episode 16 - Gold In The Grave
"Good old JB," Sapphire slurred, raising her glass. "I haven't thought of him in ages."
We all turned puzzled faces towards her.
"Jurgen Bosch. Eighteen seventeen to eighteen forty-eight. The People are the King."
She stared off into the distance as she spoke. "Oh, the times that I read that upside down while some stupid and arrogant boy was grunting away on top of me thinking he was doing me a great favour by popping my cherry."
Now we were all open mouthed and she stared back at us.
"What? Well how was I to know whether I liked men or not unless I tried it out first? If Storm and Kelly will excuse me saying so, I don't understand why you girls permit some hairy beast to stick his hard member inside you and squirt out his sticky seed when you can get far more pleasure from being licked by the soft tongue of a woman."
"Wait a minute!" Miss Spiteful removed Sapphire's glass from her hand before it could go back up to her lips. "Who was Jurgen Bosch and what does he have to do with your sex life. Unless you were into necrophilia, even you are not old enough to have slept with him."
Sapphire gave her an affronted look, probably due more to being denied her drink than the reference to her age. She pushed out her lower lip and spoke carefully.
“Jurgen Bosch was one of those killed in the eighteen forty-eight Berlin riots. He and over a hundred of the others are buried in a corner of the Volkspark Friedrichshain, near to those flak towers. It’s called the Friedhof der Marzgefallen. His family must have had money because, unlike the other graves which are marked with urns, crosses or tablets, his has a long, flat, raised stone with a scroll at the top, like a pillow, up against the headstone. There are also trees and bushes screening it from the rest of the cemetery. I think that, since it was erected, nearly every young girl in Friedrichshain, and a good part of Mitte Berlin, has lost her virginity on top of JB. Some nights, there would be a queue in the bushes waiting to use the tombstone. I was sixteen when I first made his acquaintance.”
Sapphire giggled. “Instead of ‘do you want a fuck?’ we used to ask ‘shall we go and visit JB tonight?’ thinking that our parents wouldn’t find out what we were up to. Of course they knew, they had been there before us, when they were young. A lot of us had been conceived there. There’s been more blood spilt over the years on top of Jurgen’s tomb than he and the others lost on the day that they were killed.”
Now we were dumbstruck. It had never occurred to any of us, including Miss Spiteful, that Sapphire had ever had heterosexual relationships. Sapphire’s glass was returned to her and she took a long drink before giving us all another silly grin.
“Anyway, if Von Kreps put the gold in JB’s grave, it could well be gone by now. There was hand to hand fighting there and a lot of the gravestones were damaged. I read in the newspaper that the East German Government had closed the cemetery for repairs and so that they can erect some monuments to their heroes.”
Sapphire leant back on the couch and, as her chin sagged down on to her chest, Kelly leant across and took the glass away again.
Miss Spiteful looked thoughtful and we all kept silent, waiting for her to speak.
“It fits,” she mused. “Von Kreps could well have left the dummy boxes in the flak tower and concealed the real ones in the grave. They are very close to each other.”
She looked round, meeting each of our eyes, including Kelly’s but not Sapphire’s, as she was now dozing.
“Let’s go and get it!” She finally announced.
Solitaire clapped her hands, bouncing up and down on her couch, and waking up Sapphire with a start.
“We must make plans,” Miss Spiteful said. “First of all, we need someone in Berlin immediately. There are arrangements that have to be made tomorrow that cannot wait for us to get there. I think that we all know who the best person for that is. You’ll have to let your husbands know that we are going to Berlin and that we could be there for up to a week. We can work out a cover story for you to tell them.”
She started scribbling lists and calculations on the backs of my sheets of paper and then tapped her pencil on her fine white teeth.
“Plutz told us that there were at least one million Reichmarks in gold. I worked all this out before when I was deciding whether we should put our money into gold or diamonds for when we had to get out of Germany. The notional value of the Reichmarks in nineteen forty-five was point four to the Dollar and gold was thirty seven dollars and twenty five cents per ounce. Kelly! What is the price of gold in this morning’s newspaper?”
Kelly found the New York Times and turned the pages until she looked up and announced, “Thirty-eight dollars seventy an ounce.”
“Disaster!” Miss Spiteful did another sum and then shook her head and smiled. “The price has been over forty dollars for the last few years. I’m afraid that that means the minimum value of the gold is now only four hundred and sixteen thousand dollars.”
Silence descended as mental conversions were made into various currencies. I came up with just under one hundred and fifty thousand pounds in Sterling. I was just working out what my share of that would be when Miss Spiteful spoke again.
"When you've all finished spending the riches that we haven't got yet, can we please consider some practicalities. Sapphire, I need to you contact some of your Swiss banker clients in the morning. Find out the size and markings that the Nazi's favoured for their gold bars. They could be the four hundred-ounce that the British use, the two hundred-ounce that a lot of other nations trade in or those little kilo bars. I hope that it's not the last because, just doing a rough calculation here, we are looking at over three hundred kilos in weight."
Sapphire blinked at her in acknowledgement and Miss Spiteful pursed her lips.
"Do any of you remember the day that the Americans tried to kill me with their bombs?"
We nodded, the sight of the dust covered Miss Spiteful was forever etched on our memories just as we would never forget the horror of the air raid that had flattened a good part of the administrative centre of Berlin.
"Well," she continued. "They also hit the Reichsbank in the same raid and most of the gold and currency reserves were sent south to Bavaria for safety. Tom McGiver was in Germany after the war in the US Army Criminal Investigative Division with the job of tracking down the treasures that the Nazis had hidden or were trying to get out of the country. He also had to chase the Americans who had found some of the loot and decided to keep it for them selves. He told me that there were gold, silver and platinum bars of every size, marked and unmarked, coins, banknotes and printing plates from every country in the world, gemstones and jewellery, art and antiques and even stamp collections. Tom says that they did find millions of dollars worth but there are still millions more in banks in places like Switzerland. Skorzeny got his hands on enough to fund ODESSA and the Russians will not admit how much they found, although it is known that the NKVD got their hands on at least one load worth thirty one million dollars. Some was shipped back to here to the States in personal possessions. Officially only three million dollars was not recovered but one estimate is that two and a half billion dollars is still missing. The top Nazis like Goering, Ribbentrop, Kaltenbrunner and, as we now know, Himmler, had all made their own arrangements to get their private fortunes out of the country. They all had the same problem as our selves. Gold is heavy, so how do we move it? Goering used an entire convoy of lorries. I think that we will need a small truck, at least."
She was wasting her time and breath. No one was interested in such details at this particular moment and Kelly spoke for us all.
"What's to plan? We fly to Berlin and we get a truck. We go to this cemetery one night. Dig up the gold, load up the truck and then get the hell out of there."
She lit up another cigarette as she looked round at us for agreement.
"I wish that it were that simple," Miss Spiteful smiled grimly. "First of all, we will not be able to carry this gold off in our shopping bags, nor can we walk into a bank and ask the cashier to pay them into our accounts. Last of all, have none of you considered the fact that, if the gold is still there, it is right in the heart of Communist East Berlin?"
To continue this story, click Morning In Manhattan