MARTHA KUPFER, SWINDLER
The European War produced many German criminals, but the most
resourceful of them all was Martha Kupfer, a middle-aged widow with
a plausible manner and a pretty daughter, whose only capital was a
profound knowledge of the weaknesses of her compatriots, out of which
she made over £200,000 before she was arrested. She obtained this
fortune in less than a couple of years, and there is every reason to
believe that had she not grown careless she would never have been
detected.
Anybody who is conversant with the German people must be aware that
they worship three gods--Food, Money and Decorations. Every Hun
before the war would have sold his soul for a medal, and although the
ex-Kaiser cheapened the Iron Cross and similar gew-gaws by his lavish
and ridiculous bestowal of them, they are still prized in Prussia.
When the Allies proclaimed a blockade of Germany, they incidentally
turned the thoughts of all true Huns to food, not only because they are
the heaviest, grossest and coarsest eaters in Europe, but because the
rising prices clearly indicated an easy way to wealth for speculators.
Money and food, therefore, were supreme, and decorations were
temporarily forgotten.
An elderly Bavarian four years ago, summed up the situation neatly:
"There are two things a German cannot escape--Death and the Iron
Cross." He got six months in gaol for his humour.
Frau Kupfer, a stoutish little woman with a smiling face and large
blue eyes, was one of the many who pondered over the situation. She
was poor, and struggling hard to make both ends meet, and she listened
with envy and attention to the various stories her neighbours told of
the fortunes dealers in food were accumulating. They all wished they
had the opportunity to share in their profits, and they spoke wistfully
of money invested in banks and insurance companies which were paying
miserably small dividends whilst corn dealers and grocers were turning
their capital over in less than a month!
As the woman watched the bloated faces grow red and the dull eyes
light up with greed, she realized that if only she could persuade them
to believe that she had the power to buy and import provisions on
wholesale lines and retail them at exorbitant prices to the community
they would gladly entrust her with their savings, and she and her
daughter would have a good time and never want again.
This was in the early part of 1915, when Martha Kupfer was living in a
poverty-stricken flat in Leipzig. She thought the matter over for some
days, and at last decided to enter upon a swindling career. She was
certain that she had found a royal road to riches, and believing that
she would do better in the metropolis she made preparations to live in
Berlin.
But she had first to raise at least a hundred pounds to pay her
expenses. It would not do to begin without capital, for if she looked
poor she would not be able to influence the well-to-do, and she had,
therefore, to try her hand in her native town. Frau Kupfer's first
exploit was characteristic. She went to the widow of a doctor whom
she knew to have a considerable sum in the bank, and she told her a
wonderful story of how Wertheim, the great Berlin merchant, had sent
for her to act as buyer for his grocery department because she had
special facilities for getting the Danish farmers to sell cheaply to
her. She added that she was to have half the profits, and she finally
persuaded the old lady to part with five hundred pounds by promising
that every month she would receive from her interest amounting to fifty
pounds! This was at the rate of 120 per cent per annum! The doctor's
widow was too good a German to be able to resist the temptation. She
handed over the money, and Frau Kupfer and her daughter went to Berlin
to start the great campaign.
Thanks to the capital provided by the credulous widow, Frau Kupfer
was in a position to rent an expensive flat close to the one-time
palatial building known as the British Embassy. Then she did a little
shopping, and the outcome of this was that her neighbours--and Germans
are renowned for their curiosity--began to babble excitedly about the
fashionably-dressed widow and her daughter, who were obviously persons
of great wealth.
Frau Kupfer and Gertrude wore the latest gowns, and their hats were
wonderful. Every morning a beautifully-appointed motor-car took them
for drives, and the two servants--being patriotic, she restricted
herself to a couple--exhibited to their friends, when their mistress
was out, cards bearing the names of some of the greatest personages in
Berlin. Princesses, countesses, generals, admirals, and hosts of the
nobility, learned professors, and several millionaire business men and
their wives appeared to be on calling terms with the new-comers.
Meanwhile, Frau Kupfer and Gertrude went their own way, seeking no
acquaintances, but always charming and good-tempered and charitable.
The fact was that Frau Kupfer knew that to attract people one must
appear not to want them. They must come to the gilded parlour of
their own accord, but until she was quite ready to swindle them
she must pretend not to be anxious to extend her "large circle of
acquaintances." It seems unnecessary to add that the cards which so
impressed the servants were fakes.
Curiously enough, it was a doctor who started the ball rolling in
Berlin. About this time the Berlin newspapers were full of fictitious
stories of German victories on land and sea. Twice already it had been
reported that Zeppelins had wiped London out of existence, and the
daily boast of the papers was that Great Britain had ceased to rule the
waves, her ships having been destroyed by the gallant German Navy.
But while the Huns believed anything they wished to believe these
flattering reports did not make bread and meat more plentiful, and
the food difficulties were increasing instead of diminishing. Only a
few persons wondered how it was that London could have been rebuilt
between the first and second Zeppelin raids. The majority accepted
each lie with delightful simplicity. But only the rich experienced
no privations, and Frau Kupfer and pretty Fraulein Gertrude were
apparently very well off, for they, at any rate, did not want for the
necessaries or the luxuries of life.
One morning, however, Frau Kupfer pretended that she had a headache,
and she summoned by telephone a Dr. Richter, a physician who has one of
the largest and most fashionable practices in Berlin. Now the doctor,
being a near neighbour of the Kupfers, had heard the rumours of their
wealth, and he obeyed the summons with alacrity. He found Frau Kupfer
charming and amiable, apologizing a dozen times for giving him so much
trouble, and murmuring that she was suffering from overwork.
The doctor was sympathetic, and when Gertrude brought him some
refreshment he was only too eager to linger over it as his patient
chattered. He was curious to discover the secret of her wealth, and as
she talked volubly Frau Kupfer "unconsciously" gave him the desired
information.
"My agents in Denmark," she said, with a wan smile, "are angry with me
because I can't take all the food they have bought on my account. You
see, _Herr Doctor_, I lived for many years in Denmark, and when the war
broke out and those terrible English began their blockade it occurred
to me that I could help my beloved country by importing food from
Denmark, especially as I have unique facilities, owing to the largest
farmers being related to me. I didn't mean to make money, but I find
that the shops in Berlin are so anxious to buy that they will pay any
price. I can turn my capital over ten times a month.
"It seems that there are enormous profits waiting to be picked up, but
I haven't the necessary capital. I am quite content, but my agents
think I am foolish not to raise another hundred thousand pounds and
make as much a month by using it. You have no idea the money that can
be coined, but, of course, one must know how to work it." She laid a
hand on the doctor's arm and looked at him appealingly. "I have spoken
candidly, because I know I can trust you, _Herr Doctor_," she added,
in a musical undertone. "You won't tell your friends, will you? I am
only a widow, and I don't want to be bothered. I am quite content with
the present profits, they will enable me to complete my darling child's
education and give her a large dowry when she marries."
The doctor hastened to assure her that her secret was safe with him.
Then he took his departure, and it happened that his next patient
was Countess von Hohn, the wife of General Count von Hohn, an
aide-de-camp to the Kaiser, and a first cousin of Prince von Bülow,
the ex-Chancellor. To her the doctor revealed the great secret,
knowing that the countess loved money better than life itself. As he
anticipated he fired her imagination, and she instantly commanded him
to bring about a meeting between herself and the wonderful Frau Kupfer.
"I have twenty thousand pounds lying idle at my banker's," she said,
and in her excitement she forgot that she was ill, and began to walk up
and down the apartment. "Frau Kupfer, you say, can turn it into forty
thousand within three months? I must see her at once. _Herr Doctor_,
send your wife to call on her, and after that, when she's at your
house, you can ring me up on the telephone, and I will hasten round. If
this war goes on against Germany, it behoves us to have something to
fall back upon. Everybody knows that dealers in provisions are amassing
fortunes. Why shouldn't I have some of the profits too?"
Of course there was no difficulty in effecting an introduction to
Frau Kupfer. The two met at Dr. Richter's house at afternoon tea, and
Countess von Hohn made herself very charming to the widow, whose dress
and jewellery must have cost a small fortune. Indeed, they became so
cordial that, although this was their first meeting, the countess
willingly accepted an invitation to call at Frau Kupfer's flat the
following afternoon.
When she arrived she was shown into the magnificently furnished
drawing-room, and there she was purposely left alone for a few minutes.
During that time the inquisitive, money-mad woman searched the room for
signs of wealth. There were many to be found.
On the mantelpiece was a letter from the manager of the Deutsche Bank
acknowledging a deposit of sixty thousand pounds; on a costly desk was
a letter from another bank informing Frau Kupfer that their Copenhagen
correspondents had advised them to place to her credit one hundred
and eleven pounds. Other papers and letters were in the same strain,
and when the countess had mastered their contents she was positively
trembling with anxiety to get a finger in the financial pie belonging
to her newly-made friend.
It was against all etiquette for the countess to be left unattended in
the drawing-room, but when Frau Kupfer, clothed in a glorious tea-gown,
fluttered in and began to apologize most profusely and extravagantly
for her neglect and rudeness, the countess, who would in any other
circumstances have been furious, hastened to reassure her.
"These are war-times, Frau Kupfer," she said, with a smile, "and we can
afford to dispense with etiquette. I assure you I have not been sorry
for the opportunity to inspect your beautiful furniture and pictures."
Martha Kupfer smiled in acknowledgment, but she knew what her visitor
had been doing. One glance had told her that the letters on the table
and the mantelpiece had been touched. They were not in the same
position that she had left them in. Her little ruse had succeeded, for
she had purposely baited the room with these letters and given the
countess plenty of time to read them.
Tea was served, and a short time was spent in conversation, in which
Gertrude Kupfer discreetly joined, but at the right moment she made an
excuse and went out.
The countess was relieved. She had been unable to touch any of the
expensive cakes owing to her anxiety to get to business. The moment
Gertrude had gone she mentioned the subject uppermost in her mind.
"My dear Frau Kupfer," she said, in her most winning manner, "I want
you to promise not to be angry with me if I ask you to let me invest
twenty thousand pounds in your little provision enterprise."
Frau Kupfer started and looked embarrassed.
"I feel as if we had known one another for years; you can trust me,"
she added, appealingly.
But the swindler did not speak, and the countess proceeded:
"I am sure you need capital. Why not let me help?"
Suddenly Frau Kupfer looked up at her.
"You are right, countess," she said, with a charming blush. "It would
be selfish of me to deny my friends a share of the profits. I will take
your money, and you shall have ten per cent on it every month. I am
making that and more.
"Do you know that I can import bacon, for which the people of Berlin
pay eight shillings a pound for less than a shilling a pound? The
profits on flour are bigger, and I can get a hundred per cent on soap
and candles, and practically everything of which the English are
trying to deprive us. I have a contract to supply three palaces of the
Kaiser's with provisions for a year. You see, I am protected in high
quarters. Of course, His Majesty is paying the highest price for the
very best, and on that contract alone I shall make thirty shillings
profit on every pound I spend. I liked you countess, from the moment
we met. You shall have a share. It is a pity you have not more money
saved, because that would mean a bigger return. However, you can
reinvest your dividends."
Within forty-eight hours the twenty thousand pounds which the Countess
von Hohn had received by the sale of her British and French securities
was in the hands of Frau Kupfer.
I should mention that six weeks before the war started the German
Foreign Minister notified all those who could be trusted to keep the
secret that they had better realize their investments in Great Britain,
France and Russia. As the countess' husband was one of the inner set,
he got the information early, and was able to save his own and his
wife's fortune.
This unexpected windfall delighted Frau Kupfer and Gertrude. The first
thing they did was to send fifty pounds' "interest" to the doctor's
widow at Leipzig, and the second to take a larger and better flat,
retaining their original residence, however, and using it mainly as a
hiding-place for the choicest provisions.
Frau Kupfer paid her two maids lavishly and fed them luxuriously, and
they were hers body and soul in a city where famine threatened to stalk
abroad. It was easy, therefore, to stock the flat with preserves,
bacon, ham, wines, cigars, cigarettes and soap, besides a huge amount
of clothing.
The stock was replenished from time to time, while now that their
headquarters were at one of the finest flats in Berlin, Frau Kupfer and
Gertrude were able to proceed from financial triumph to social triumph.
Countess von Hohn was promptly paid her first dividend of two thousand
pounds a month after she had invested her money, but she promptly sent
the cheque back with a request that it might be added to her capital.
Frau Kupfer must have screamed with laughter when she read this proof
of how complete was her power over her first great dupe. She was,
indeed, succeeding beyond her wildest dreams.
The widow at Leipzig also helped considerably, for she wrote to a rich
and highly placed friend in Berlin about her luck, and that friend
promptly called on Frau Kupfer, and begged to be permitted to invest
in the great food trust. She found the woman entertaining half a
dozen ladies, all of whom bore names that were household words in the
country, and when she rather pettishly complained of being bothered
she did not resent her manner, but became more supplicating than ever,
and eventually went away poorer by a thousand pounds, which she had
"invested."
Frau Kupfer was now fairly launched on a career of gigantic swindling.
It was no longer necessary to pretend that she had tens of thousands of
pounds at her bankers. It was a fact. The money simply poured in upon
her every day.
All sorts and conditions of people clamoured to be allowed to join the
secret food trust. They quite understood that everything had to be
done quietly. The common people, who had no inkling of the tremendous
profits that were being made by speculators in food, must be kept in
ignorance lest they should complain, and the horrible Socialist papers
make trouble for the profiteers.
Besides, as Frau Kupfer said, they must not forget that they were
all partners in a scheme that was daily contravening the Government
regulations as to maximum prices.
Thus the times were in her favour. The war dominated everybody's
thoughts, and food was so scarce that it ceased to be a question of
prices. All were willing to pay provided they obtained the provisions,
and so with the necessity for secrecy and the blind, unquestioning
obedience and trustfulness of her clients, Frau Kupfer's position
seemed impregnable.
Six months after her arrival in Berlin Frau Kupfer launched out as a
woman of fashion and means. She went everywhere. The nobility received
her, and she was the constant companion of aristocratic dames, who gave
her and her daughter seats in their boxes at the theatre.
No one could rival them in the art of dressing. It was the talk
of fashionable Berlin that Frau Kupfer and Gertrude paid eighteen
shillings a pair for stockings, and never wore them twice, and
that they had the most expensive wardrobe in Germany. The swindler
maintained the deception by giving dinners, for which the élite
scrambled to obtain invitations. The very rarest dishes and vintages
were provided for her guests, and despite food restrictions Frau Kupfer
could entertain as though there was not a war on and the British
blockade a myth.
There might be food riots in Berlin, Leipzig, Hamburg and scores
of other places, but the friends of the swindler never wanted for
anything, and Frau Kupfer's dinners were her best protection against
exposure. She was a charming hostess, and her sympathetic interest in
the relatives of her guests who were in the trenches was enchanting.
One of her most profitable deals arose out of her pretended interest in
the son of a retired general who was introduced to her by the Countess
von Hohn. General von Demidoff, a German of Polish extraction, was
known to be a rich man. He had served for fifty years in the army, and
had spent at least half that time enriching himself at the expense of
the troops under him.
But although he must have had plenty of cash he did not succumb to Frau
Kupfer's scheme as quickly as she expected. General von Demidoff--he
won the coveted "von" in the Franco-Prussian War--was an old man, and
he was reluctant to engage in hazardous speculation, but he was greatly
pleased with Frau Kupfer and her daughter.
The arch-swindler never even hinted that he should take shares in the
secret food trust, and as he got many luxurious dinners at her expense
he was only too glad to number her amongst his acquaintances. They
often met at the theatre or at the house of a mutual friend, and it was
even rumoured that the old man was keen on the wealthy widow; but this
was only an invention. Frau Kupfer had no desire for matrimony. She
was aware that marriage would inevitably lead to the discovery of her
colossal frauds.
But when Frau Kupfer began to talk about the general's son, and to ask
permission to send him parcels of dainties, which she knew he could not
obtain for himself, he thought that a woman with such a kind heart must
be amongst the best of her sex, and although he took a month to make up
his mind he finally decided to entrust ten thousand pounds to her for
investment in her business.
When he called on her with this intention he found her reclining
gracefully on a sofa reading, in the _Lokalanzeiger_, an account of the
victory of the Crown Prince's Army at Verdun. Her eyes were shining
with enthusiasm, and she was all smiles when General von Demidoff was
announced.
For quite ten minutes she would not permit a word of business to pass
his lips. He had to have a drink first--she had his favourite beverage
ready in a few seconds--and then there was a variety of sandwiches for
his delectation. The old soldier was always ready to eat, and he was
feeling particularly pleased with himself, when he suddenly told his
hostess that he wished to hand her ten thousand pounds for investment.
He made the announcement as though he were conferring a favour on her,
and his amazement was all the greater when with a charming smile she
coyly refused to accept his offer, explaining that she had all the
capital she required, and that the "dear general" had better leave his
money where it was.
He went away profoundly puzzled, little realizing that Frau Kupfer
was actually gasping for money. She had run through tens of thousands
of pounds. Certain wealthy investors had, much to her disappointment,
decided not to reinvest their dividends, and had kept her cheques.
Tradespeople, hit by the defalcations of other customers, had insisted
upon being paid, and as her weekly expenses were never less than two
hundred pounds it had not taken her long to get through a fortune.
Yet with admirable fortitude and a wonderful discernment of human
nature, she had refused General von Demidoff's offer, although she was
in grave financial and personal danger. But she knew her man. She was
aware that he would tell the story to all his friends--and the general
mixed only in the very best society--and, better than that, she was
willing to stake her life, as she had done her liberty, that within a
few days he would be back again with twenty thousand pounds at least,
which he would literally thrust into her hands, and insist upon her
keeping.
I have given this story in detail because it is typical of the methods
of Germany's greatest war swindler. It is taken from the account of the
preliminary examination before the judge in Berlin, who at first would
scarcely be brought to believe that the general had actually returned
to Frau Kupfer's flat, and had compelled her to accept twenty-five
thousand pounds for investment in her food trust.
The money came as a godsend, and once more the precious pair of
swindlers were rejoicing. Of course, the mother was the brains of the
movement. Gertrude Kupfer had nothing to do except to look pretty and
wear the most costly clothes.
There were very few young men worth attracting to the flat for her
mother to rob, though now and then she was able to relieve monetary
pressure by bringing along a wounded officer of family and position who
could be tempted to invest a few hundred pounds. Frau Kupfer, however,
thought only in thousands, even if she was willing to take any money,
however small in amount.
For over eighteen months the merry game continued. The great war
increased in intenseness, and the world was topsy-turvy, but Frau
Kupfer and Gertrude indulged in every extravagant pleasure, and
swindled high and low alike. Some one had to pay for those champagne
dinners, and for the clothes they wore. Gertrude Kupfer alone averaged
fifty pounds a week on her wardrobe.
Frau Kupfer gave many lavish entertainments to wounded soldiers.
Once she took the whole seating capacity of a theatre and filled the
building with soldiers, and while mother and daughter were at the
zenith of success they must have given tea-parties to thousands of
warriors.
The money dribbled through their fingers like water, and fresh dupes
had to be found almost daily to pay the interest due to the original
investors. The smallest interest promised had been one hundred per cent
per annum, and for many months the widow managed to remit the amount
owing. It was a wonderful feat considering the circumstances, but she
stopped at nothing, and she even swindled the maidservants out of their
savings.
One of her brightest ideas was to patronize the small tradespeople, and
thus bring them under her influence. In due course they succumbed, and
sums from ten to two hundred pounds were obtained from them.
Nothing worried Germany's "Madame Humbert." Berlin was thronged
with wounded; the papers were beginning to give hints of defeats;
and it was admitted that a complete victory for the Fatherland was
out of the question--but Frau Kupfer was unperturbed. She was merry
and light-hearted, and she lived so well that her naturally plump
face and stout figure expanded, and she was a living testimony to
the ineffectiveness of the British blockade. Her circle of friends
continued to grow. Her dinner-parties were all the more appreciated.
She was one of the most sought after persons in Berlin society, and
in the hour of her triumph she never thought of the dark, underground
dungeons that are so numerous in Germany. It seemed as though she could
never know defeat, no matter what happened to her country.
Christmas Day, 1916, found Berlin a city of gloom, save for the
gorgeous flat where Frau Kupfer was entertaining a score of high-born
society dames and a few elderly men to a sumptuous repast. It proved to
be the last of a long series, for she was taken ill after the dinner,
and for the next three weeks was too ill to leave her room, and in
those three weeks the Berlin police discovered all about the great
swindle. An accident led to the catastrophe.
I have mentioned that Frau Kupfer had two flats, and that she used
the smaller one as a storing place for provisions for her own use. One
evening a vigilant-eyed policeman, who was feeling hungry, noticed
that several large parcels were being delivered at a certain flat near
the Wilhelmstrasse. He had been warned to keep a look-out for food
hoarders, and he came to the conclusion that this was an attempt to
evade the regulations. He therefore forced his way past the carters
into the flat, and, having ordered the terrified maid to clear out,
examined the place for himself. It did not take him long to discover
enough provisions to stock a grocer's shop. There were scores of hams,
thousands of preserves neatly stacked against the walls, boxes of
cigars, cigarettes, cases of wine, and plenty of flour, sugar, sweets,
etc. I fancy the policeman indulged in a good meal before he reported
to Police President von Jagow what he had found.
That night Frau Kupfer and her daughter were arrested on a charge of
contravening the food regulations, and with their arrest the bubble
burst. The "investors," first uneasy, grew alarmed, and began to talk.
A few days later they all knew that they had been swindled.
Inside two years Frau Kupfer had robbed them of two hundred thousand
pounds, all of which she had managed to dissipate, leaving nothing for
them. The Food Trust had had no existence save in her imagination.
Mother and daughter are now in damp cells in the Moabit Prison, and
when Frau Kupfer leaves that ghastly prison house she will be in her
coffin, for in Germany swindling is considered ten times a greater
offence than murder, however brutal that murder may have been, and the
greatest of Hun food swindlers will spend the remainder of her life in
prison.
Gertrude Kupfer, however, will be released in a few years because
it has been held that she acted entirely under the influence of her
mother, and was in no way an originator of the swindle.