Alright folks we have a problem! I'm not sure how to end it. We have either
a) a bitter sweet ending that gives hope for more or b) a sappy like honey.
Ending A will get you either an epilogue or possibly a sequel. Ending B
will be the end but probably rot your teeth out. Read this and tell me what
you want. Or we can all go for C and I write both and you can 'choose your
own adventure'. Anyone remember those books?
Credit for "Der Kommissar" goes to Falco and the English lyrics to After the Fire. Personally I love the Falco version.
*-*-*-*-*
Anthony stood at the edge of the garden waiting for Katja's arrival. He was going to go up to the house but saw the three rental cars in the drive way and decided against it. He didn't need the Angels to see him right now. He was sure that by now they had heard the news that Andreas, Graf von Buchholz was dead. He pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and removed one from the sleek silver case that housed it, placed it in his mouth and lit it using the other hand to block the wind from extinguishing the flame.
Getting to the Count had been easier than he thought, just a matter of entering the room and doing what had to be done. He wondered if Dylan could understand that. If not she would in time. He didn't have to wait long for Katja to arrive at the house. He watched her get out of the red Porsche 911 and stare at the three rental cars outside the house. He left his perch on the stone bench that was nearly hidden by a tangle of honeysuckle vines and approached her, removing the small pad and pen from his pocket. Katja saw him coming and intercepted him. "What are you doing here?"
"Reporting in," he wrote on the piece of paper. "My end of the job is taken care of."
Excitement blossomed in Katja's eyes. "Really," she asked grabbing his forearms. He pulled away he didn't like to be touched. Anthony nodded the affirmative. "He is dead," she squealed in happiness, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. "I am a millionaire! And you my sexy assassin are three hundred thousand richer. I'll pay you this evening. Just kill the Angels."
Anthony's eyes went cold. "NO!" He wrote on the pad.
"What do you mean 'no'," she hissed her voice icy.
"You said you'd take care of the Angels. I did my job. I was hired to kill the Count. If you wanted more you should have hired another competent professional," he scribbled angrily.
Katja's happy demeanor quickly vanished to that of the shrewd woman who had hired him. "How does six hundred thousand sound? I no longer have to pay Karl and I certainly don't have to share with Michael. It not like I can't afford it. And of course that offer of Majorca is still open."
Anthony was shocked he never expected her to offer him more than the three hundred thousand originally agreed to; now Katja was doubling her offer. "I can tell you're tempted," she said seductively. He was tempted. He never considered himself a greedy man but he was getting older and being an assassin was losing its appeal. He had often, especially within the last year, imagined a house on a beach somewhere and six hundred thousand on top of what he had in the bank would certainly help.
"Go out back, it will be awhile but you'll get the Angels. I'll make sure of it," and with that she walked away from him and entered the Schlosss.
*-*-*-*-*
The Angels were in the sitting room still comforting Helga when Katja sauntered in. "What are you doing here," she asked in faux surprise. "Why are the curtains open? Just because Andreas isn't here doesn't mean that you disobey the rules of the house, Helga."
Helga just looked up at her with eyes red-rimmed from crying. Natalie still had her arms around the older woman, Alex just sat and silently stared, but Dylan lost it. She had had enough for one day. Now Katja was playing surprised, like she didn't know the count was deceased.
"For your information she is crying over the Count, your fiancé," said Dylan nastily to her.
Katja didn't care for the redheaded Angel at all. Maybe it was the way her assassin looked at the woman but she didn't care. She was queen of this castle and she'd be damned if anyone, especially one of Charles Townsend's bimbo brigade was going to speak to her that way in her own home. At least it would be her home once the will was read. "Don't you speak to me that way." She stepped closer to Dylan. "You four Angels were fired; I believe I told you that at the hospital Alex. I thought you understood because you moved to the bed and breakfast. Now I find you here. Anyway Helga, Andreas is fine. I just left him this morning and the doctors said he was doing well."
"If you hadn't fired us there is a chance that Andreas would be still doing well," said Alex getting to her feet.
"I don't understand," replied Katja using her best confused voice.
"The Count is dead," said Dylan.
"No," gasped Katja. Dylan had to hand it to her. If she had not known that the Count's fiancé was behind it she would have believed her to truly be shocked. "When? How?"
"Stabbed through the heart an hour ago," stated Dylan.
"Stabbed but he was in the hospital," said Katja sitting on the chair Dylan had just vacated.
Dylan knelt down in front of her. She wanted to see Katja when she told her the next part. "He was apparently a hired assassin; a tall man with a dark suit and cane who smokes. Does he sound familiar to you?"
Katja betrayed nothing. She knew that the Angels had nothing on her, they would go back to LA soon enough without an answer. The person they were hired to protect dead and their reputations crushed. In her mind the worse thing that could happen was she wouldn't get her trip to the Balerian islands with the Thin Man. She had no problems sacrificing him to the police should she need to cover her own ass. Katja wasn't a woman with any loyalties to anyone but herself. "No Dylan," she said calmly, "he doesn't sound familiar to me. Am I supposed to know him?"
Dylan was getting mad. She turned to her friends, "I need to take a walk I need to clear my head," she walked down the darkened corridors, to the ballroom and exited into the back garden. She could hear the horses in the stable and the fountains bubbling. She stopped at one and paused to make a wish. She reached into her pocket but had no change to toss like everyone else who had been there in the past did so she lifted her hair, and removed the necklace. She closed her eyes and said, "I wish that the Creepy Thin Man would never cross my path again," and tossed the medallion into the fountain.
Anthony on the other side of the hedge line near the fountain overheard her wish. He closed his eyes. He knew his visit to the Count would hurt her. He hated hurting her but he did what he had to. He told himself this over and over. It was the only way he would make it though the day. He peered around the bush and saw her walk over towards the maze. Once she was out of sight he removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeve and reached into the fountain and plucked the medallion out. He opened the latch and hooked it around his neck; he smiled knowing that it was one wish of Dylan's that wouldn't come true.
*-*-*-*-*
Kommissar Kamp hopped into his patrol car and drove towards the Schloss. Although he had told Dylan he didn't suspect Katja James a phone call he received before the red haired Angel arrived at the station had suggested that the Count's lovely fiancé was responsible. He didn't even want to believe it, he thought the man on the other end of the line was daft but he had believed the source and once Dylan confirmed the caller's information he had no choice but to accept it. The caller had advised him not to inform the Angels as to anything but the death of Andreas von Buchholz and he agreed to the conditions set. The Kommissar normally wouldn't agree to anything regarding a murder investigation but the truth; however once the call was completed he knew it was the best way to catch Katja.
As he pulled up in front of the house he saw that Katja was indeed home, her Porsche the show car of the drive. He got out and walked up to the door. He turned back to the driveway as he heard another car approaching. He recognized the car as that of Dieter Brandt, Andreas' attorney. He waited before knocking for the other man to come to the door; his passenger remained in the car. "Dieter," he said.
"Hello Johannes, I suppose you are here about Andreas also," said the stocky attorney.
"Of course," replied der Kommissar.
"Is it true," he asked unbelieving
"Yes, just don't say anything. Let me do the talking," the Kommissar knocked on the door with the heavy brass knocker. They waited in silence for awhile and just as they were about to knock again Helga opened the door.
"Herr Kommissar, Herr Brandt," she stepped back to let them in.
"Helga, we need to see Frau James. Is she home?"
"Ja, the sitting room," she said leading the two gentlemen back to the room where Katja, Natalie, Alex and Bosley sat. As he entered the room Kommissar Kamp blinked. He had never seen the sitting room in broad day light. Obviously Katja is already making changes.
"Frau James," Helga announced, "Der Kommissar and Herr Brandt to see you."
"Don't turn around oh oh oh, Der Kommissar's in town," whispered Bosley. Natalie stifled a giggle and nudged him gently with her elbow at his reference to the old song.
"Mein Herren," she said standing shaking each one's hand in turn. "Please take a seat" The two men sat solemnly and looked at each other. No one in the room saw the other two men standing silently in the doorway watching.
"Frau James," began Kamp, "I suppose that by now you heard about Andreas' demise." On cue she started sniffling. Dylan done with her walk entered through the door that connected the sitting room with the conservatory and joined her friends.
"I can't believe he is gone. I hired these..these.," she waved her hand holding the tissue at the Angels, "detectives, to stop anyone from killing him. Now my beloved Andreas is gone." Katja broke down into a full blow wail.
"I realize," interrupted the Kommisar, "that this is highly irregular but Herr Brandt is here to read the Graf's last testament."
"So soon," she asked puzzled.
"It was a request of his. He didn't want his loved ones waiting in probate so he made sure everything was air tight and incontestable. Shall we begin," asked Herr Brandt standing.
"Of course," said Katja. She turned to the investigators and said, "I'm sorry but you will all have to leave now." The Angels stood up and got ready to go.
"No, they should stay," said Herr Brandt.
Katja glared at the stocky attorney, she didn't like him. He reminded her of a little pig with a brush moustache. "Why? They aren't family. They should leave," said Katja attempting to shoo them towards the door. The two men watching stepped back into the shadows as not to be seen.
"You are correct," said Herr Brandt, "But." Katja turned and gave him and evil look. "But what Dieter," she insisted.
"But they are listed in the will," he concluded. Katja's eyes glowed with rage. "Fine," she snapped, her face pulling into a tight smile, "sit, stay, and have a glass of wine. Helga, I believe there is a nice Zinfandel in the cupboard over there. Make mine a double scotch on the rocks. Would you like anything special Herr Kommissar?"
Kamp shook his head, "No, I'm quite alright plus I'm on duty." Helga opened the bottle and passed glasses of the wine around and handed Katja her scotch. Kamp waited until everyone was served and then said, "I think we can begin Dieter."
Herr Brandt looked at him and nodded. Then he began to read, "I Andreas, Graf von Buchholz in der Nordheide, being of sound mind and fairly sound body hereby proclaim my last will and testament. This will has changed several times over the years to include those closest to me and remove those who have become my enemies. What you are now hearing, as I assume my lawyer, Herr Dieter Brandt, is reading this out loud is my final copy written by my own hand this fourteenth day of July in the year of our Lord 2003."
Katja sputtered, he scotch flying and spraying Dylan who yelped, "Hey!" Helga ran over with a small white towel to help the Angel clean up. "What the hell," yelled Katja. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"This is not a joke Frau James," stated the attorney soberly.
"It has to be a joke, Herr Kamp," said Katja. "The date on it is today's date. You can't tell me that he rewrote his will today, before he died."
"Oh but he did," said Dieter who was having a difficult concealing his pleasure at her discomfort. Then he continued reading, "First I want to thank the Angels of the Townsend agency for coming all this way to Germany to try to protect me. To Alex Munday, equestrian extraordinaire, I leave you my stable of thoroughbreds. If you feel this isn't very much you are mistaken, there is no horse in that stable that isn't worth several thousand euros, and there are many horses out there, and include the ones at the villa in Spain. I give them to you with my blessing.
To Frau Natalie Cook, I bequeath the dance club I own, 'The Funky Monkey', which is located in Hamburg. The land alone is worth several million euros, as it is my understanding you are the dancing queen.
Dylan Sanders, ah Dylan, to you I leave this house. You looked so much the Princess the evening of the costume ball, I know one day your Prince will come." Dylan smiled and reached for the medallion that she was used to wearing, the one she had thrown in the fountain she realized and felt empty inside.
"Herr Bosley, I hope you enjoy sailing, to you I bequeath my yacht, it is in the marina in Travemunde on the Baltic Sea. Helga," Helga looked up from her place at the back of the room. "You don't think I know this but I do, to Helga, my mother, I leave all my money."
"What," screamed Katja jumping to her feet. "Sound mind my ass. He obviously was off his rocker when he wrote that. The maid is his mother?"
"Its true," said Natalie to the hysterical woman. The Kommissar went over and helped Katja sit back down.
Herr Brandt cleared his throat to get attention and started reading again, "To Katja who I am sure is sitting there with her chin in her lap, my dear I leave you nothing."
"Nothing Nothing," she ranted as she began to pace the room. "I should have everything. I am his fiancé, I was his fiancé," she corrected storming about the she turned and threw the scotch glass that was in her hand. It hit the portrait of the Count that hung over the fireplace, near the area where the two mystery men were watching. One of the men came forward, it was Anthony.
Dylan glared at him angrily and said, "That would be the man who killed the Count." The other Angels stood as well and positioned themselves in their fighting stance. Anthony rolled his eyes in a here-we-go-again manner and leaned against the mantel.
"Aren't you going to do anything," said Natalie standing up from her crouched position, to the Kommissar.
"Actually no," he said with a grin.
"Why not," said Katja knowing that no matter how attracted to the silent assassin she was, she planned to let him take the fall. "Dylan said it herself, he killed Andreas, and he has the sword right there." That was where Katja slipped, the three Angles turned and looked at her, and then back at Anthony.
"What sword," asked Dylan with a grin.
"I don't see a sword," said Alex trying to hide a smirk, "Do you see one Nat?"
"Nope," said Natalie with a full smile. "I see a man with a cane."
Katja swallowed hard. "Well it is dark over there, I just didn't see clearly," she said backpedaling as quickly as she could. Just then the second man stepped out of the shadows and said, "Will someone close the damn curtains, the light is killing my eyes." Helga ran over and drew the drapes and the rest scurried about lighting candles. "But you are supposed to be dead," said Katja then she looked at Anthony, "You were supposed to kill him!"
"Ah but you see, the man has a better conscience than you," he said to Katja. Then to Herr Kamp, "I believe that was the confession you needed Herr Kommissar that she hired this man to kill me."
"Ja, that was enough," he said and walked over to Ms. James. "I need you to come with me."
"I am NOT, going anywhere," she said jerking away from him.
"But you are Frau James; we have you for attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder. We have the silent fellow's statement that you hired him and the dead secretary, Karl Mills, to kill your fiancé. And I am sure once Michael knows that you have been arrested he will gladly implicate you as well." He reached into his pocket and produced a pair of handcuffs and fastened them around the struggling woman's wrists. "Andreas it has been fun, ladies," he gave a small bow to the Angels, "Dieter, I'll see you tomorrow for a game of Skat."
"Of course," replied the attorney.
"Herr Bosley," he shook Bosley's hand then approached Anthony. "Anthony, tomorrow morning in the station, we need to finalize the agreement." Anthony nodded and shook the hand Kommissar Kamp offered. The Kommissar looked at Dylan, "You might want to make sure he gets there." Dylan smiled and said "Alles klar Herr Kommissar," and then Kamp led Katja out to his car.
(Reminder Let me know what ending you want.!)
Credit for "Der Kommissar" goes to Falco and the English lyrics to After the Fire. Personally I love the Falco version.
*-*-*-*-*
Anthony stood at the edge of the garden waiting for Katja's arrival. He was going to go up to the house but saw the three rental cars in the drive way and decided against it. He didn't need the Angels to see him right now. He was sure that by now they had heard the news that Andreas, Graf von Buchholz was dead. He pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and removed one from the sleek silver case that housed it, placed it in his mouth and lit it using the other hand to block the wind from extinguishing the flame.
Getting to the Count had been easier than he thought, just a matter of entering the room and doing what had to be done. He wondered if Dylan could understand that. If not she would in time. He didn't have to wait long for Katja to arrive at the house. He watched her get out of the red Porsche 911 and stare at the three rental cars outside the house. He left his perch on the stone bench that was nearly hidden by a tangle of honeysuckle vines and approached her, removing the small pad and pen from his pocket. Katja saw him coming and intercepted him. "What are you doing here?"
"Reporting in," he wrote on the piece of paper. "My end of the job is taken care of."
Excitement blossomed in Katja's eyes. "Really," she asked grabbing his forearms. He pulled away he didn't like to be touched. Anthony nodded the affirmative. "He is dead," she squealed in happiness, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. "I am a millionaire! And you my sexy assassin are three hundred thousand richer. I'll pay you this evening. Just kill the Angels."
Anthony's eyes went cold. "NO!" He wrote on the pad.
"What do you mean 'no'," she hissed her voice icy.
"You said you'd take care of the Angels. I did my job. I was hired to kill the Count. If you wanted more you should have hired another competent professional," he scribbled angrily.
Katja's happy demeanor quickly vanished to that of the shrewd woman who had hired him. "How does six hundred thousand sound? I no longer have to pay Karl and I certainly don't have to share with Michael. It not like I can't afford it. And of course that offer of Majorca is still open."
Anthony was shocked he never expected her to offer him more than the three hundred thousand originally agreed to; now Katja was doubling her offer. "I can tell you're tempted," she said seductively. He was tempted. He never considered himself a greedy man but he was getting older and being an assassin was losing its appeal. He had often, especially within the last year, imagined a house on a beach somewhere and six hundred thousand on top of what he had in the bank would certainly help.
"Go out back, it will be awhile but you'll get the Angels. I'll make sure of it," and with that she walked away from him and entered the Schlosss.
*-*-*-*-*
The Angels were in the sitting room still comforting Helga when Katja sauntered in. "What are you doing here," she asked in faux surprise. "Why are the curtains open? Just because Andreas isn't here doesn't mean that you disobey the rules of the house, Helga."
Helga just looked up at her with eyes red-rimmed from crying. Natalie still had her arms around the older woman, Alex just sat and silently stared, but Dylan lost it. She had had enough for one day. Now Katja was playing surprised, like she didn't know the count was deceased.
"For your information she is crying over the Count, your fiancé," said Dylan nastily to her.
Katja didn't care for the redheaded Angel at all. Maybe it was the way her assassin looked at the woman but she didn't care. She was queen of this castle and she'd be damned if anyone, especially one of Charles Townsend's bimbo brigade was going to speak to her that way in her own home. At least it would be her home once the will was read. "Don't you speak to me that way." She stepped closer to Dylan. "You four Angels were fired; I believe I told you that at the hospital Alex. I thought you understood because you moved to the bed and breakfast. Now I find you here. Anyway Helga, Andreas is fine. I just left him this morning and the doctors said he was doing well."
"If you hadn't fired us there is a chance that Andreas would be still doing well," said Alex getting to her feet.
"I don't understand," replied Katja using her best confused voice.
"The Count is dead," said Dylan.
"No," gasped Katja. Dylan had to hand it to her. If she had not known that the Count's fiancé was behind it she would have believed her to truly be shocked. "When? How?"
"Stabbed through the heart an hour ago," stated Dylan.
"Stabbed but he was in the hospital," said Katja sitting on the chair Dylan had just vacated.
Dylan knelt down in front of her. She wanted to see Katja when she told her the next part. "He was apparently a hired assassin; a tall man with a dark suit and cane who smokes. Does he sound familiar to you?"
Katja betrayed nothing. She knew that the Angels had nothing on her, they would go back to LA soon enough without an answer. The person they were hired to protect dead and their reputations crushed. In her mind the worse thing that could happen was she wouldn't get her trip to the Balerian islands with the Thin Man. She had no problems sacrificing him to the police should she need to cover her own ass. Katja wasn't a woman with any loyalties to anyone but herself. "No Dylan," she said calmly, "he doesn't sound familiar to me. Am I supposed to know him?"
Dylan was getting mad. She turned to her friends, "I need to take a walk I need to clear my head," she walked down the darkened corridors, to the ballroom and exited into the back garden. She could hear the horses in the stable and the fountains bubbling. She stopped at one and paused to make a wish. She reached into her pocket but had no change to toss like everyone else who had been there in the past did so she lifted her hair, and removed the necklace. She closed her eyes and said, "I wish that the Creepy Thin Man would never cross my path again," and tossed the medallion into the fountain.
Anthony on the other side of the hedge line near the fountain overheard her wish. He closed his eyes. He knew his visit to the Count would hurt her. He hated hurting her but he did what he had to. He told himself this over and over. It was the only way he would make it though the day. He peered around the bush and saw her walk over towards the maze. Once she was out of sight he removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeve and reached into the fountain and plucked the medallion out. He opened the latch and hooked it around his neck; he smiled knowing that it was one wish of Dylan's that wouldn't come true.
*-*-*-*-*
Kommissar Kamp hopped into his patrol car and drove towards the Schloss. Although he had told Dylan he didn't suspect Katja James a phone call he received before the red haired Angel arrived at the station had suggested that the Count's lovely fiancé was responsible. He didn't even want to believe it, he thought the man on the other end of the line was daft but he had believed the source and once Dylan confirmed the caller's information he had no choice but to accept it. The caller had advised him not to inform the Angels as to anything but the death of Andreas von Buchholz and he agreed to the conditions set. The Kommissar normally wouldn't agree to anything regarding a murder investigation but the truth; however once the call was completed he knew it was the best way to catch Katja.
As he pulled up in front of the house he saw that Katja was indeed home, her Porsche the show car of the drive. He got out and walked up to the door. He turned back to the driveway as he heard another car approaching. He recognized the car as that of Dieter Brandt, Andreas' attorney. He waited before knocking for the other man to come to the door; his passenger remained in the car. "Dieter," he said.
"Hello Johannes, I suppose you are here about Andreas also," said the stocky attorney.
"Of course," replied der Kommissar.
"Is it true," he asked unbelieving
"Yes, just don't say anything. Let me do the talking," the Kommissar knocked on the door with the heavy brass knocker. They waited in silence for awhile and just as they were about to knock again Helga opened the door.
"Herr Kommissar, Herr Brandt," she stepped back to let them in.
"Helga, we need to see Frau James. Is she home?"
"Ja, the sitting room," she said leading the two gentlemen back to the room where Katja, Natalie, Alex and Bosley sat. As he entered the room Kommissar Kamp blinked. He had never seen the sitting room in broad day light. Obviously Katja is already making changes.
"Frau James," Helga announced, "Der Kommissar and Herr Brandt to see you."
"Don't turn around oh oh oh, Der Kommissar's in town," whispered Bosley. Natalie stifled a giggle and nudged him gently with her elbow at his reference to the old song.
"Mein Herren," she said standing shaking each one's hand in turn. "Please take a seat" The two men sat solemnly and looked at each other. No one in the room saw the other two men standing silently in the doorway watching.
"Frau James," began Kamp, "I suppose that by now you heard about Andreas' demise." On cue she started sniffling. Dylan done with her walk entered through the door that connected the sitting room with the conservatory and joined her friends.
"I can't believe he is gone. I hired these..these.," she waved her hand holding the tissue at the Angels, "detectives, to stop anyone from killing him. Now my beloved Andreas is gone." Katja broke down into a full blow wail.
"I realize," interrupted the Kommisar, "that this is highly irregular but Herr Brandt is here to read the Graf's last testament."
"So soon," she asked puzzled.
"It was a request of his. He didn't want his loved ones waiting in probate so he made sure everything was air tight and incontestable. Shall we begin," asked Herr Brandt standing.
"Of course," said Katja. She turned to the investigators and said, "I'm sorry but you will all have to leave now." The Angels stood up and got ready to go.
"No, they should stay," said Herr Brandt.
Katja glared at the stocky attorney, she didn't like him. He reminded her of a little pig with a brush moustache. "Why? They aren't family. They should leave," said Katja attempting to shoo them towards the door. The two men watching stepped back into the shadows as not to be seen.
"You are correct," said Herr Brandt, "But." Katja turned and gave him and evil look. "But what Dieter," she insisted.
"But they are listed in the will," he concluded. Katja's eyes glowed with rage. "Fine," she snapped, her face pulling into a tight smile, "sit, stay, and have a glass of wine. Helga, I believe there is a nice Zinfandel in the cupboard over there. Make mine a double scotch on the rocks. Would you like anything special Herr Kommissar?"
Kamp shook his head, "No, I'm quite alright plus I'm on duty." Helga opened the bottle and passed glasses of the wine around and handed Katja her scotch. Kamp waited until everyone was served and then said, "I think we can begin Dieter."
Herr Brandt looked at him and nodded. Then he began to read, "I Andreas, Graf von Buchholz in der Nordheide, being of sound mind and fairly sound body hereby proclaim my last will and testament. This will has changed several times over the years to include those closest to me and remove those who have become my enemies. What you are now hearing, as I assume my lawyer, Herr Dieter Brandt, is reading this out loud is my final copy written by my own hand this fourteenth day of July in the year of our Lord 2003."
Katja sputtered, he scotch flying and spraying Dylan who yelped, "Hey!" Helga ran over with a small white towel to help the Angel clean up. "What the hell," yelled Katja. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"This is not a joke Frau James," stated the attorney soberly.
"It has to be a joke, Herr Kamp," said Katja. "The date on it is today's date. You can't tell me that he rewrote his will today, before he died."
"Oh but he did," said Dieter who was having a difficult concealing his pleasure at her discomfort. Then he continued reading, "First I want to thank the Angels of the Townsend agency for coming all this way to Germany to try to protect me. To Alex Munday, equestrian extraordinaire, I leave you my stable of thoroughbreds. If you feel this isn't very much you are mistaken, there is no horse in that stable that isn't worth several thousand euros, and there are many horses out there, and include the ones at the villa in Spain. I give them to you with my blessing.
To Frau Natalie Cook, I bequeath the dance club I own, 'The Funky Monkey', which is located in Hamburg. The land alone is worth several million euros, as it is my understanding you are the dancing queen.
Dylan Sanders, ah Dylan, to you I leave this house. You looked so much the Princess the evening of the costume ball, I know one day your Prince will come." Dylan smiled and reached for the medallion that she was used to wearing, the one she had thrown in the fountain she realized and felt empty inside.
"Herr Bosley, I hope you enjoy sailing, to you I bequeath my yacht, it is in the marina in Travemunde on the Baltic Sea. Helga," Helga looked up from her place at the back of the room. "You don't think I know this but I do, to Helga, my mother, I leave all my money."
"What," screamed Katja jumping to her feet. "Sound mind my ass. He obviously was off his rocker when he wrote that. The maid is his mother?"
"Its true," said Natalie to the hysterical woman. The Kommissar went over and helped Katja sit back down.
Herr Brandt cleared his throat to get attention and started reading again, "To Katja who I am sure is sitting there with her chin in her lap, my dear I leave you nothing."
"Nothing Nothing," she ranted as she began to pace the room. "I should have everything. I am his fiancé, I was his fiancé," she corrected storming about the she turned and threw the scotch glass that was in her hand. It hit the portrait of the Count that hung over the fireplace, near the area where the two mystery men were watching. One of the men came forward, it was Anthony.
Dylan glared at him angrily and said, "That would be the man who killed the Count." The other Angels stood as well and positioned themselves in their fighting stance. Anthony rolled his eyes in a here-we-go-again manner and leaned against the mantel.
"Aren't you going to do anything," said Natalie standing up from her crouched position, to the Kommissar.
"Actually no," he said with a grin.
"Why not," said Katja knowing that no matter how attracted to the silent assassin she was, she planned to let him take the fall. "Dylan said it herself, he killed Andreas, and he has the sword right there." That was where Katja slipped, the three Angles turned and looked at her, and then back at Anthony.
"What sword," asked Dylan with a grin.
"I don't see a sword," said Alex trying to hide a smirk, "Do you see one Nat?"
"Nope," said Natalie with a full smile. "I see a man with a cane."
Katja swallowed hard. "Well it is dark over there, I just didn't see clearly," she said backpedaling as quickly as she could. Just then the second man stepped out of the shadows and said, "Will someone close the damn curtains, the light is killing my eyes." Helga ran over and drew the drapes and the rest scurried about lighting candles. "But you are supposed to be dead," said Katja then she looked at Anthony, "You were supposed to kill him!"
"Ah but you see, the man has a better conscience than you," he said to Katja. Then to Herr Kamp, "I believe that was the confession you needed Herr Kommissar that she hired this man to kill me."
"Ja, that was enough," he said and walked over to Ms. James. "I need you to come with me."
"I am NOT, going anywhere," she said jerking away from him.
"But you are Frau James; we have you for attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder. We have the silent fellow's statement that you hired him and the dead secretary, Karl Mills, to kill your fiancé. And I am sure once Michael knows that you have been arrested he will gladly implicate you as well." He reached into his pocket and produced a pair of handcuffs and fastened them around the struggling woman's wrists. "Andreas it has been fun, ladies," he gave a small bow to the Angels, "Dieter, I'll see you tomorrow for a game of Skat."
"Of course," replied the attorney.
"Herr Bosley," he shook Bosley's hand then approached Anthony. "Anthony, tomorrow morning in the station, we need to finalize the agreement." Anthony nodded and shook the hand Kommissar Kamp offered. The Kommissar looked at Dylan, "You might want to make sure he gets there." Dylan smiled and said "Alles klar Herr Kommissar," and then Kamp led Katja out to his car.
(Reminder Let me know what ending you want.!)