Oscar was born to a prostitute in Eindhoven, Germany. She wanted nothing to do with him following his birth. His father died of an overdose a short time later.  He wound up in an orphanage in Eindhoven, then moved to another in Wiesbaden. At the age of three, he was moved to a foster home in the nearby town of Mainz. His foster parents had no interest in raising him with love and care. They were in it for money. The state paid well for each child in their care. They had seven children between the ages of 3 and 17, so business was good.

​

Understandably, all seven children experienced difficulties adjusting to life without parental guidance. The older children were in constant trouble with the law. The younger children were allowed to roam the neighborhood at will. At age 12, Oscar was brought in by a truancy officer for cutting school. It was worse than the occasional missed class. In the sixth grade, he attended school for a total of 27 days during the entire school year. His parents' solution? Move him to another school. Six months later, he was in trouble again—this time for fighting. A year later, fighting again. With no guidance from home, he was a ship without a rudder. After his fifth altercation, involving petty theft, he was placed in the Jugendhilfe, a state-sponsored center for delinquent children. He didn’t fare any better there. At 14, he found himself in the stricter Jugendstrafvollzug. The German state was hesitant to place children in a juvenile prison. Only 2% of all offenders were incarcerated. They preferred instead to use a diversion program that required offenders to attend specialized training courses, perform community service, or participate in victim-offender mediation.

​

Against all odds, Oscar began to thrive in these sessions. He became something of a role model for the other youths. He was big for his age. And strong. And actually smart. What he lacked in formal education, he made up for with street smarts. He learned how the system worked and how to work the system. At 18, he aged out of foster care and found himself alone on the streets of Hamburg, which was fine with him. He liked it on the streets. Now he was finally free to choose his own destiny.

​

His destiny lay in illegal activities. At first, it was drugs and minor theft. He quickly graduated to major theft and firearms. He found he had a knack for planning and executing a car theft ring. He found himself especially good at fencing expensive automobiles across international borders. He was making a fortune. During one such theft, however, he was confronted by the car's owner. Guns were drawn. Shots were exchanged. A man lay dead on the street. At age 23, Oscar had committed his first murder. It didn’t frighten him, however. On the contrary, he thought it was a matter of doing what needed to be done. One month later, he and a couple of members of his gang stole three cars in one night. All expensive vehicles.  One of those thefts involved two security guards who tried to stop them.

Weber killed them both without a moment’s thought.

 

A month later, the same crew boosted five cars in five days, then eleven in one weekend. The money poured in. The group expanded. Their escapades drew the attention of both the police and the local mob. The mob wasn’t interested in car theft. They were interested in someone who could pull the trigger and walk away from the incident as if nothing had happened. That took chutzpah. They made Weber an offer he couldn’t refuse: Join their crew, get paid for various jobs, plus enjoy protection from rival mobs and the police. They had contacts everywhere. It was a no-brainer.

​

His first job, however, almost proved to be his last. It was a simple assignment. Plant a bomb beneath the Mercedes of a rival kingpin. Weber didn’t have to design the bomb, just secure it beneath the driver’s seat, then detonate it from a safe distance once the driver was in place. For unknown reasons, the bomb detonated itself.  Weber was ten feet away and was blown off his feet. He survived with a few scratches and miscellaneous glass fragments in his shoulder. The bombmaker was aghast. Weber must have done something to trigger it prematurely. Oscar disagreed. The bombmaker was found later, floating in the River Elbe, with a hole in the back of his head.

​

This mishap was soon forgotten as Weber began to build his reputation as a dependable button man. Although few people knew his real identity, his reputation grew. Before long, he was known as “The Ghost.” As bad fortune would have it, the mob he was associated with suffered a major setback. Three of the top leaders were indicted on RICO charges, found guilty, and sentenced to forty years behind bars. The rest of the gang disbanded. This left Oscar without an employer. He didn’t panic. He knew there were more jobs to be done. Sure enough, within a few months, his reputation as “The Ghost” led him into freelance work. In fact, his life improved. Now he was no longer subject to the dictates of one group but could pick and choose which assignments he accepted. And the money was even better. Before long, he was back in business.

​

His first contract was for a man who ran a series of brothels in Hamburg’s red-light district. His name was Werner Braum. Apparently, Braum had gotten too ambitious in his effort to expand his little empire, encroaching on another businessman’s territory. Weber dispensed with Braum in a fashion that warned other enterprising pimps of the consequences of crossing lines. Braum’s severed head was found on the doorstep of one of his shops. After that, no one crossed the line again.

​

Oscar never married but had been with the same woman for many years. Her name was Greta Hoffman, but she went by the less conventional name of Toots. They had lived together for eleven years. She gave him the space to work for weeks away from home, and he gave her space to work as a part-time prostitute. The only thing she wanted to change about Oscar was his cigar smoking. She was sure it would be the death of him. She was wrong.

​

A client who called Oscar from time to time paid well and was very discreet. His name was Wolfgang Muller, AKA “Mr. Wolf.” The first assignment Wolf gave him went off with a hitch. As did the second. When Weber received the phone call to eliminate a French female, he was also tasked with recovering a 600-year-old diary from her. This was unusual, but not beyond the realm of his capabilities. Weber signed on. The woman was Lisette Bellamy. She could be found in Paris.