There's a company you did the books for on Lipowa Street, made what - pots and pans?

By law, I have to tell you, sir, I'm a Jew.

Well, I'm a German, so there we are. A good company you think?

Modestly successful.

I know nothing about enamelware, do you?

I was just the accountant.

Simple engineering, though, wouldn't you think? Change the machines around, whatever you do, you could make other things, couldn't you? Field kits, mess kits, army contracts. Once the war ends, forget it, but for now it's great. You could make a fortune, don't you think?

I think most people right now have other priorities.

Like what?

I'm sure you'll do just fine once you get the contracts. In fact, the worse things get, the better you will do.

Oh, I can get the signatures I need - that's the easy part. Finding the money to buy the company, that's hard.

You don't have any money?

Not that kind of money. You know anybody? Jews, yeah. Investors. You must have contacts in the Jewish business community working here.

What "community"? Jews can no longer own businesses. That's why this one's in receivership.

Ah, but they wouldn't own it. I'd own it. I'd pay them back in product. Pots and pans.

Pots and pans.

Something they can use. Something they can feel in their hands. They can trade it on the black market, do whatever they want. Everybody's happy. If you want, you could run the company for me.

Let me understand. They'd put up all the money. I'd do all the work. But what, if you don't mind my asking, would you do?

I'd make sure it's known the company's in business. I'd see that it had a certain panache - that's what I'm good at, not the work, not the work - the presentation.

I'm sure I don't know anybody who'd be interested in this.

Well, they should be, Itzhak Stern. Tell them they should be.