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Last Stop Vienna : Part 5

Rating: PG-13 for some violence
Transcribed by Brightbear
Author's Notes: I have replaced the word Stephansplatz with Stephans Plaza. If anybody knows a better translation, let me know. This story is set a few years after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Some characters I could not find a character name for (the dog handler that looks after Rex & the Russian store owner that helps Richard), so I made up the names Dieter and Stefan Dejevsky. If anybody knows their actual names, please let me know.
Disclaimer: This is written by a fan of the television series
Kommissar Rex. Kommissar Rex is owned by Mungo film, Tauris film, SAT.1 and ORF. The script for the episode Last Stop Vienna was written by Peter Moser and Peter Hajek.

Previous Chapter

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Mrs Werner limped back into the garden house of her mansion, pausing to smell the delicate aroma of a well-tended rosebush. Smiling, she looked at the plant proudly before slipping quietly into the garden house. From there, she walked through the garden house into her own bedroom. She carefully pulled off the black wig, brushing it delicately before returning it to its case. She changed into a cream dress suit, clipped on her gold earrings and gently combed her hair.

Humming to herself, she began to pack suitcases with her belongings. Each item was given its place and the creases were smoothed. She had soon built up a pile of cases, including the case which contained her fine black wig.

Outside the garden house, the chauffeur was washing the car in the large driveway. The young maid emerged from the house, holding a large rug that needed cleaning.
"It's 9 o'clock," said the maid, tapping her watch. "It's time."
The chauffeur looked up and checked his own watch, "Yes. Thankyou."
He quickly washed the car down, turned and walked towards the garden house door. Though she was a good mistress, it did not pay to keep Mrs Werner waiting.

Inside the garden house, Mrs Werner had finished packing and was talking on the telephone.
"Are there any first class seats?" she asked politely. "Sorry. The food just isn't good enough in business class. Really? Thankyou, very much."
Placing the phone down, she limped to her wheelchair. She sank into the chair, sighing in relief. Walking pained her more than she would have admitted - not that she would admit to walking in any event.
She wheeled herself towards the garden house door, the doors opening smoothly at the touch of a remote control. The chauffeur stood on the other side of the door, waiting patiently.

"Good morning," said the chauffeur. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes," smiled Mrs Werner. "By the open window. The fresh air does me good."
The chauffeur took hold of the wheelchair handles and wheeled Mrs Werner out to the main house. The maid was hanging out the rug as they passed.
"Good morning, madam," called the maid.
"Morning," Mrs Werner called back, smiling pleasantly.
It was looking to be a very good day.

* * *

Richard walked across a grassy clearing overlooking the forest to where Leo stood by Landovsky's body. In the background, Rex was enthusiastically jumping up on Stocki.
"Richard, please!" cried Stocki.
Leo raised an eyebrow, "I didn't know you had a dog, Richard."
"Well, you'll all get used to it," said Richard proudly.
"What's he called?" asked Leo, admiring the German shepherd who was still bothering Stocki.
"Rex," said Richard. "So, fill me in on the late Mr Landovsky."

Leo looked down at Landovsky, "Well, some walkers found the body. It looks as if he fell from the hide and broke his neck. All about two hours ago."
Richard leant down to examine the body, "There are abrasions on his palms."
"He probably grabbed the ladder and slipped," nodded Leo.
In the background, Stocki cried out, "Shoo, shoo! Go away. Cut it out!"
Richard pointed at Landovsky's chest, "Look, traces of earth."

"Yes," said Leo. "I noticed those."
"You'd think he'd fall on his back," said Richard thoughtfully, gazing up the hide's ladder. "See if you can find a haematoma."
"Richard," said Leo, exasperated. "Are you really looking for a murder case?"
"No, but he's mixed up in a case we're working on," sighed Richard. "I'm convinced someone pushed him."

Stocki tried darting around the car but Rex gave chase, enjoying the game.
"Off," cried Stocki. "Search. Down. Go. Search. Over there!"
Rex dropped down at the word 'search' and set off across the clearing at an enthusiastic trot. Stocki breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the hidden ham roll out of his pocket. He bit into it with relish and walked over to join Richard and Leo. Richard turned to Stocki as he approached.

"Well, have they got a set of fingerprints?" asked Richard. "And some soil... Where's Rex?"
Stocki shrugged, trying not to look guilty, "No idea. I just told him to back off a bit."
Richard swore, "Shit... Rex!"
He stalked away from the others, whistling and calling, "Rex!"
For a few long seconds there was silence and then Rex was sprinting across the clearing and barking loudly.

"Come here," said Richard. "What's the matter, eh?"
Rex bounded away and then stopped for Richard to catch up, "Rex, come here."
As Richard drew level with him, Rex took off again, barking enthusiastically.
"Rex, where are you going?"

Richard broke into a jog, following Rex down the slope and into the bushes. Although Rex was just out of sight, his barking was easy enough to follow. He finally stopped in a large bush and sat down to wait for Richard.
"What is it?" asked Richard.
Then he saw something hanging from one of the bushes - the hairs of a fine black wig.

* * *

Mrs Werner was sitting in her office, stacking money into a case from a wall safe. She leant forward to reach right to the back of the safe. She looked up irritably when her butler entered.
"I don't want to be disturbed," she said flatly.
"The councillor is here," said the butler, apologetically. "He refuses to leave."
"Tell him to wait," she snapped.

The butler nodded obediently and withdrew. Mrs Werner finished piling the money into the case. She slipped it onto the wheelchair between her legs and wheeled herself behind her desk where the case was out of sight. She smoothed down her hair and straightened her stationary before ringing a hand bell. The Councillor appeared, fiddling with his waistcoat nervously.

"Sorry," he said, sensing her mood. "I must talk to you."
"Make it quick," she said curtly. "I have a lot to do."
"I bet," said the Councillor, sitting across the desk from her. "You want to close Zhukov's accounts and do a bunk."
Mrs Werner laughed, a rich, tinkling sound that reminded the Councillor strongly of money.
"The fantasies of an Austrian public servant," she snorted.

She slammed her hands down on the arms of her wheelchair, "Look at me, do you envy me? What do you want?"
"If it gets out that I approved the subsidies, I'm ruined," blurted the Councillor. “You have Zhukov's money, it would only be fair to give me some."
"Is that what you're all after?" asked Mrs Werner haughtily. "Money. Spitzer lived beyond his means. Landovsky couldn't get enough. And you... a panicky little bureaucrat."
The Councillor squirmed uncomfortably, "Zhukov's cut had to be paid into your bank. You've lived well off it. When he came to claim it, you hired Spitzer to kill him."
Mrs Werner smiled smugly at him, "I'd like to see you prove it."

* * *

Richard and Stocki pulled up outside Mrs Werner's mansion. Wimmer, the officer currently keeping the Werner mansion under surveillance, was sleeping in the front seat of his car. Richard smacked his hand down on the bonnet. Wimmer jerked awake, startled. He cringed as he saw who it was that had woken him.
"Continue your nap at HQ," said Richard icily. "We'll get Mrs Werner."
As Wimmer started his car and pulled away, Richard and Stocki approached the gates with Rex in tow.

"Stay there," Richard told Stocki.
"You think she'll run for it?" frowned Stocki.
The intercom buzzed, "Who is it?"
"Moser," said Richard, leaning towards the speaker and ignoring Stocki's question. "Homicide,” he added.
The gate opened with a click and Richard walked through, "Come on, Rex."
Stocki opened his mouth to object as Rex trotted happily after Richard. The gate snapped shut in front of Stocki and he gave up. He settled with his back against the wall to wait.

As Richard walked determinedly up the path, the chauffeur came hurrying out of the front door and down the steps.
"Inspector, Madam is sick and won't see anyone," he called apologetically.
"Sorry but she'll see me," said Richard, pushing past him. "Stay, Rex."
Richard paused, discovering Rex was no longer behind him, "Rex?"

Rex had his nose to the ground. As Richard watched, Rex took off down the side path to the garden house door. He leaped up, scratching at the door. He turned around and barked at Richard. Richard hurried down the steps to join him with the worried chauffeur in tow. The chauffeur began to look alarmed as Richard tried the handle and found it locked.
"Open the door," said Richard firmly.
"We have strict orders not to enter the garden house," said the chauffeur nervously, wringing his hands.
"Should I break it open?" suggested Richard, moving menacingly towards the door.

The chauffeur jumped forward to intercept Richard before he could damage anything. He fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Rex bounded inside, nose again pressed to the ground. Richard trailed close behind, the chauffeur following slowly and reluctantly. Rex led the way into Mrs Werner's private rooms where a stack of cases stood by an expensive leather couch. Richard pulled an evidence bag out of his jacket pocket and held the wig hairs out to Rex.

"Rex, search!" commanded Richard. "Search."
Rex sniffed the hairs and then began to search the room. He moved around the couch and then began to sift through the pile of cases. Finally, he stopped and overturned a small brown case. Rex sat down and barked at Richard.
"What have we here?" asked Richard, leaning down to open the case.
Reaching into the case, Richard pulled out a sculptured head which held a fine black wig.
“Well done, Rex,” smiled Richard. “What a clever dog.”
He put the head down to scratch Rex affectionately beneath the chin. Rex wagged his tail happily and nosed Richard’s hand.

* * *

Back in her office, Mrs Werner watched from the window as Richard emerged from the garden house with the head and wig in his hand. Hurrying away from the window, Mrs Werner picked up the case of money in her hands and limped downstairs and out to the car. Richard stopped in surprise a few metres away. Behind him, the chauffeur gasped in shock to see his mistress’ walking.
“Run, Rex, run!” yelled Richard. “Go get her.”
Rex took off towards the car, snarling. Mrs Werner started the engine and sped down the driveway with the dog in tow. Opening the gate by remote, she narrowly missed running over Stocki as she passed through. The gate swung shut automatically behind her.

“Hey!” shouted Stocki, joining Rex in the chase down the street and around the corner.
Just as Stocki disappeared, Richard came sprinting down to the gate. He rattled the locked gate in frustration, “Stocki!”
When Stocki failed to appear, Richard dropped the sculptured head, slipped the wig on over his own hair and hauled himself over the gate. Pulling the wig off again, Richard sprinted to his car and sped down the street. Stocki ran back to the gate, having given up the chase but Richard sped straight past him without slowing down. Not that Stocki could blame him, catching Mrs Werner was more important.

Stranded without a car, Stocki returned to his position leaning against the outside of the mansion wall. After a few seconds, the Councillor snuck quietly out of the gate, not noticing Stocki. As he marched down the street, Stocki fell into step beside him.
“Excuse me,” said Stocki crisply. “We need to talk.”
“How dare you,” said the Councillor angrily, rounding on Stocki. “I work for the government.”
Stocki held up his badge, “So do I.”

* * *

Mrs Werner’s car drove sedately through the streets of Vienna, passing police cars going the other direction. Looking in the rearview mirror, Mrs Werner was satisfied to see no signs of pursuit. She didn’t notice Rex sprinting along the footpath.

Mrs Werner drove through the gates of a nearby park, satisfied as more police cars sped past. Rex leapt onto the bonnet of a parked car, onto a bin and over the park fence. Behind them, Richard drove past the park entrance. Rex turned and ran into the middle of the street, barking madly. Richard slammed on the brakes and reversed. As he pulled around to enter the park, Rex set off again after Mrs Werner’s car.

Rex galloped through the flower beds, taking a shortcut and bounding onto the road just in front of Mrs Werner’s car. Mrs Werner gasped and swerved, the car spinning out of control. Rex leapt back into the flowerbeds and out of harm’s way. Mrs Werner’s car slammed into a tree and steam began to billow from the bonnet. Shaking and breathing heavily, Mrs Werner staggered out of the car and grabbed the case. She began to limp away from the car wreck.

She scrambled awkwardly down an embankment. As police sirens approached, she collapsed onto a nearby bench, attempting to look casual. The ploy worked and the police cars sped straight by her. Checking to make sure they were gone, Mrs Werner stood again and began to limp away. Rex trotted out of the bushes, growling and barring his teeth.

Mrs Werner looked at the dog warily, smiled nervously and backed away. Rex followed her, keeping a metre’s distance. Mrs Werner began to walk faster, clutching the case to her chest. Richard jumped down the embankment, landing in front of her. Seeing him, Mrs Werner’s face fell and she stopped walking.
Richard walked up to her, smiling pleasantly, “Mrs Werner. Been to Lourdes, have you?”
She moved to place the case on the ground but Richard reached out and took it from her. He smiled politely at her and gestured towards his car. Biting her lip, Mrs Werner limped ahead of him. Watching from a distance, Rex barked and looked at Richard questioningly. Richard turned to him, smiled and winked at him. Rex wagged his tail and ran to join them.

* * *

Later that day, Stocki and Höllerer were turning out the office lights for the day.
“It’s an amazing story,” said Höllerer, as he pulled on his jacket. “Shortly after Mrs Werner was crippled, her husband was hit by a heavy concrete flower pot. She inherited his fortune and invested Zhukov’s money wisely.”
“Why didn’t our guys suspect at the time?” asked Stocki, chewing absent-mindedly on the last crumbs left in a plastic bag.
Höllerer shrugged helplessly, “The doctors said she was a psychosomatic cripple.”
Stocki snorted, “She was in that wheelchair for four years.”
Höllerer grabbed his car keys, “Well, for a few hundred million...”

Richard walked into the office with a file under his arm and Rex in tow. Stocki hid the plastic bag behind his back.
“She confessed to instigating Zhukov’s murder and to the murders of Spitzer, Landovsky and her husband,” announced Richard.
He walked past his two colleagues to his desk and opened a drawer, “Come here, Rex. You get a...”
He paused, finding the drawer empty. He looked up suspiciously at Stocki.
“She was unlucky that we caught Spitzer,” said Stocki quickly, hoping to distract Richard. “And that Rex found the crucial clue.”

Without replying, Richard marched over to Stocki’s desk and pulled open the drawers. Stocki fell silent, unused to Richard actually searching his desk. Finding empty packaging, Richard looked up at Stocki accusingly. Stocki shifted uncomfortably and Höllerer took a few steps back, not wanting to be involved.

“If you’re looking for your biscuits... I’m sorry,” said Stocki nervously. “I’ve eaten them all.”
Richard stalked towards Stocki, who took a couple of steps back nervously. Even Höllerer began to look alarmed. Richard only stopped when his nose was an inch from Stocki’s.
“Did they taste good?” he asked dangerously.
Stocki swallowed, then regained his courage, “Very good.”
The answer seemed to satisfy Richard who returned to sit on his desk by Rex. He looked back at Stocki and Höllerer who were watching him cautiously.
“They were dog biscuits,” explained Richard, scratching Rex’s ears. “His.”
As Rex whined and turned reproachful eyes to Stocki, Richard couldn’t help smiling. It seemed the two of them were going to get on very well indeed.

THE END

Disclaimer : Kommissar Rex is owned by Mungo film, Tauris film, SAT.1 and ORF and was created by Peter Hajek and Peter Moser. None of the characters, actors or photographs belong to me, unfortunately. I'm just borrowing them, having a bit of fun and then returning them more or less unharmed.