In court: How the judiciary auctions stolen goods. – Company

Do you need a Thermomix or a chop saw? There are already from 200 or 400 euros. Or are you looking for a small sailing yacht (2500 euros) or a brand new Porsche (103 000 euros)? All of these things have one thing in common: they have been stolen or robbed at some point, confiscated and used as evidence in court. Now the judiciary has to get rid of them and have them auctioned off on certain platforms on the Internet. Ebay for crime in a way.

The auctions of evidence, as such objects are called, are among the most bizarre sideshows of the judiciary. Because you can get everything here, and by that I mean: really everything. Bicycles, brand shirts, perfumes, iPhones in their original packaging, laser printers, shoes, champagne, whiskey, washing machines, projectors, books, jewellery, robot vacuum cleaners, lawn mowers, knife sets, prams, fittings, Playstations, carpets, headphones, e-bikes or a Mercedes convertible.

When you click through the offers, you cannot help but wonder who owned the things and what the story is behind them. How did the black Porsche 911 end up here or the “Bronze statue of Jesus on the cross on a globe” that the Wiesbaden public prosecutor had auctioned off? The stolen goods show the desires and longings of a consumer society.

At a time when most people are assessing their consumer behavior to see how sustainable and socially acceptable it is, at some point people also begin to ask themselves moral questions. How much suffering was actually associated with these objects? Don’t you also profit from crime here? A judiciary once told me that he was certain that most of the auctioned evidence would be immediately resold.

On the other hand, the judiciary here is like a retailer: at some point the warehouses are full and the things have to go. This is what happens when all deadlines have passed and no one has reclaimed their property. Some authorities even regularly auction their evidence live. I can well remember an auction at a Berlin courthouse that was like a shopping mall on Black Friday. Dozens of people stormed the building, buying everything from a package containing eight watches and a barometer to sculptures of naked women, lighters and tampon cases.

Some tried to negotiate with the bailiff, who only handed in the valuables in a package with some stuff so that inferior things wouldn’t be left behind. And then there was the man who bought a crowbar, a hammer drill and a bolt cutter. Tool that everyone in the room knew had come from a burglary. To this day I wonder if it was reused. After all, the money for it went into the state coffers.

At this point, Verena Mayer and Ronen Steinke write in weekly alternation about their experiences at German courts.

(Photo: Bernd Schifferdecker (Illustration))

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