Sara Paretsky - V.I. Warshawski 10 Read Online Free PDF Page B

Chicago this past summer as part of
their plan to convert Jews to Christianity, a lot of people were troubled, but
the Birnbaum Foundation took action. Working with the Illinois Holocaust
Commission, the Chicago Roman Catholic archdiocese, and Dialogue, an interfaith
group here in Chicago, the foundation decided to hold a conference on issues
that affect not just Illinois’s substantial Jewish population but the Jewish
community in America as a whole. Hence today’s conference, ‘Christians and
Jews: a New Millennium, a New Dialogue.’
    “At times, it seemed as though dialogue was the last
thing on anyone’s mind.” The screen shifted to footage of the demonstrations
out front. Blacksin gave both Posner and Durham equal sound bites, then shifted
back to the hotel ballroom.
    “Sessions inside the building also grew heated. The
liveliest one covered the topic which sparked the demonstrations outside: the
proposed Illinois Holocaust Asset Recovery Act. A panel of banking and
insurance executives, arguing that the act would be so costly that all
consumers would suffer, drew a lot of criticism, and a lot of anguish.”
    Here the screen showed furious people yelling into the
mikes set up in the aisles for questions. One man shouted the insult that
Margaret Sommers and Alderman Durham had both made earlier, that the
reparations debate proved that all Jews ever thought about was money.
    Another man yelled back that he didn’t understand why
Jews were considered greedy for wanting bank deposits their families had made:
“Why aren’t the banks called greedy? They held on to the money for sixty years
and now they want to hang on to it forever.” A woman stomped up to a mike to
say that since the Swiss reinsurer Edelweiss had bought Ajax, she assumed
Edelweiss had their own reasons to oppose the legislation.
    Channel 13 let us watch the melee for about twenty
seconds before Blacksin’s voice cut in again. “The most startling event of the
day didn’t take place in the insurance session, but during one on forcible
conversion, when a small man with a shy manner made the most extraordinary
revelation.”
    We watched as a man in a suit that seemed a size too
big for him spoke into one of the aisle mikes. He was closer to sixty than
fifty, with greying curls that had thinned considerably at his temples.
    “I want to say that it is only recently I even knew I
was Jewish.”
    A voice from the stage asked him to identify himself.
    “Oh. My name is Paul—Paul Radbuka. I was brought here
after the war when I was four years old by a man who called himself my father.”
    Max sucked in his breath, while Carl exclaimed, “What!
Who is this?”
    Don and Morrell both turned to stare.
    “You know him?” I asked.
    Max clamped my wrist to hush me while the little
figure in front of us continued to speak. “He took everything away from me,
most especially my memories. Only recently have I come to know that I spent the
war in Terezin, the so-called model concentration camp that the Germans named
Theresienstadt. I thought I was a German, a Lutheran, like this man Ulrich who
called himself my father. Only after he died, when I went through his papers,
did I find out the truth. And I say it is wrong, it is criminally wrong, to
take away from people the identity which is rightfully theirs.”
    The station let a few seconds’ silence develop, then
Dennis Logan, the anchor, appeared in a split screen with Beth Blacksin. “It’s
a most extraordinary story, Beth. You caught up with Mr. Radbuka after the
session, didn’t you? We’ll be showing your exclusive interview with Paul
Radbuka at the end of our regular newscast. Coming up, for fans who thought the
Cubs couldn’t sink lower, a surprising come-from-ahead loss today at Wrigley.”

IV
    Memory Plant
    D o you know
him?” Don asked Max, muting the sound as yet another round of ads came up.
    Max shook his head. “I know the name, but not this
man. It’s just—it’s a most unusual