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Gambler's Choice
by Justina Lui

Standard disclaimers: I don't own Kommissar Rex (unfortunately...or luckily for some) the series belongs to P. Hajek & P. Moser. No profit is made. Besides the characters, the story is not connected with any plot lines in the series or the novels based on the scripts. That I know of. :) Enjoy!
Author's Note: Also, some things don’t work as well in writing as they do on camera.
R&R, plot lines, comments, your own unfinished business, please I’d love to hear from you!
Justina: bluegrass_devil at hotmail.com

XXXXX

"Bang!" the shot broke the heavy silence that had descended on the expectant crowd. As the runners shot out of the blocks the crowd exploded. Michael von Tralein, Austria's only hope for a medal was tearing up the track, taking an early lead. Closely behind him was Italy’s Giovani Luigi. They had just swept past the 50m mark when Luigi overtook. Gritting his teeth, Michael dug hard and tried to regain his lead but it was too late. The 100m mark flashed past with Giovani racing away with the lead. Michael passed the line 4th, just missing out on a medal.

He took his time to get back to the change rooms, he knew what was coming.
"What is this all about?" demanded his coach. "Where is the medal? This is the 3rd meet you haven't won anything in."
He watched his coach pace, each step echoing in the empty room.
"I don't train you to lose, Michael. I know this is only a low-key meet but the European Championships are coming up! If you don't stay on the team, you will not go to the Olympics!"
He stopped and knelt in front of Michael.
“You have the 200m semi-finals tomorrow, show me you can do it."

XXXXX

Crouching at the blocks the next day, Michael felt even more nervous than usual. If he didn't win or at least place, his spot on the Austrian team would be in jeopardy. As the starter raised the gun, one of the youngsters broke early. Immediately the false start sirens sounded, and a murmur broke out among the crowd. This didn’t help Michael’s frazzled nerves, as he returned to the blocks his muscles were taught as violin strings.

In his head he heard the shot and darted out of the blocks. Too soon he heard the sirens calling him back. Now he had really ruined it. Disqualified. Hanging his head, he began the walk back slowly. The commentator was booming something but he didn't hear it. All he wanted now was to curl up and disappear into the ground. He knew his coach would be far from pleased so instead of heading back to the change rooms, he walked towards the exit.

XXXXX

Johnas Hauser rubbed his forehead hard. He needed a lot money and he needed it now. He couldn't get a loan because he didn't have a collateral...God, how many times had he tried? Even holding three jobs didn't bring in enough. But now they were getting impatient - they had started to threaten him. He shivered at the thought and ran his hand through his ice-blonde locks. Waving over the bartender, he ordered another round and settled down in the corner, nursing his whiskey and dark thoughts.

The atmosphere was cosy and comforting, soothing Johnas' mind. People were mingling in groups of twos or threes, drinks in hand. As it got darker outside, more people began trickling in. The bartender was taking bets on some athletics carnival that was on TV. Hang on, thought Johnas. Bets. Money. It was risky, but how else was he supposed to get the rest of the money? Getting up from his stool, he made his way through the throng of people that surrounded the bartender.
"Come on folks, betting on the 200m finals on now!" the bartender said, addressing the crowd.
"80 schillings on Oliver Stein winning." said a bloke in a shabby orange jacket instantly.
"Only 80? Come on, a bit more Hans!" he flashed him a smile.
But Hans was firm and shook his head.
"No? Ok then, 80 on Stein winning." He scribbled something down then turning to Johnas he asked "And what might I do for you sir?"

Johnas took a deep breath and putting his hand his pocket, pulled out a thick wad of cash.
"450,000 schillings on von Tralein winning or placing."
Everyone surrounding them turned and stared at him. The bartender was stared silently at the money before seeing if Johnas was serious. Seeing that he was, he slowly shook his head before writing it down.
"Ok sir, 450,000 on von Tralein winning or placing in the 200m finals."

Everyone watched the 200m finals. Everyone saw Michael von Tralein get disqualified. Everyone including Johnas. He saw the bartender smirking at him behind the bar and felt an incredible urge to strangle him. Slowly he took the wad of cash out of his pocket, fingering it longingly and laid it on the bar. Scarcely had his fingers left it when the bartender snatched it up and yelled
"Drinks on the house!"
Johnas downed a few more whiskeys before he left, feeling nothing could get worse. Then he remembered they would be after him, and revenge seeped into his veins. The liquor was getting to his head and without further ado, he headed towards the Austrian Institute of Sport.

XXXXX

"Come Rex, lunch!" Alex Brandtner called from the car.
Rex stopped and glanced at Alex. Knowing his work was done he jumped in, landing bodily on Christian Bock.
"I wish you would control that dog of yours, Alex," he complained.
"Well Christian, he does his job well, so you have to allow him to let it out somewhere!"
"Well don't let it be me!"
Rex whined and rubbed his head against Christian's chest, as if asking an apology.
"Ok boy, that's enough..."Christian stammered.

The shrill ringing of Alex's mobile phone shattered the peaceful silence inside the car.
"Brandtner" Alex answered curtly.
After a couple of minute on the phone he turned to Christian, his handsome face absolutely serious.
"You've heard of Michael von Tralein, haven't you?"
"ummm...I think I have. Isn't he some runner?"
"Yes, a runner. Or at least he was." Alex paused, "His body has been found."
Rex whined at the subdued silence.

They arrived at the Austrian Institute of Sport a few minutes later. Asking for directions to the accommodation units, they found it taped off. Officers were interviewing Michael's coach and taking items to be tested in the lab. Dr. Leo Graf was there inspecting the body in the bedroom. Alex walked over to him with Rex while Christian talked to the officer in charge.
"Hi Alex, Hi Rex."
"Hello Leo."
"The man died about 18 hours ago. He was not hanged as the murderer wanted us to believe. The marks on his neck are from the rope but I think he was suffocated, probably with that pillow." he gestured to one on the bed. "There's a slight blow on the head, probably enough to make him unconscious but that didn't kill him. We're not sure is he was on drugs or anything, I will tell you more after the autopsy."
"Ok, Leo."
"Bye Alex, bye Rex."
"Woof!"
"Bye"

Alex knelt down to examine the body while Rex wondered off. It was dressed in the Austrian team tracksuit, a colourful reminder of who the body was. Christian came over and knelt beside him.
"The coach found the man hanging in his room. At first it looked like suicide but now it seems he was murdered. The supposed "suicide" note is not in Michael's handwriting, or so the coach says. Also, there seems to have been a struggle in the hall, the vase over there was shattered."
Suddenly, Rex started barking from the hall.
"Let’s see what Rex has found" said Alex, getting up and following Rex's barking.
Christian just shrugged his shoulders and followed.
Staring at the patch of wall in front of which Rex was standing, Brandtner noticed a smudge of blood hidden in the shadow of the hall stand.
Puzzled, Alex remarked "But there aren't any cuts on Michael."
"Aha" Smiled Christian triumphantly. "That confirms it was a murder. There must have been someone else here who did it."
"But who?"
Christian shrugged his shoulders and waved over an officer to take a sample.
"That's what we have to find out."

XXXXX

Fritz Kunz knew all about it when they got back to the office. He had already rung he Austrian Institute of Sport to check von Tralein's drug and other tests.
"They came out all clear, so it wasn't some drug dealer killing for money."
"How do you know about drugs in sport?" asked a surprised Brandtner, taking in Fritz's plump body.
"I do watch the news," came the cold reply.
Rex whined from his rug in the corner.
"Hungry, boy?"
"woof."
"Ah, Fritz, did you bring any..." the rest of the sentence was lost as a ham roll flew through the air, landing in front of Rex's expectant muzzle. Alex went and helped himself to one.
"What about me?" asked Christian, looking up from his computer screen.
"Catch!"
"Hey! Not you Rex! Give it back!"
"Nice catch boy!"
"Woof"

XXXXX

Fritz looked up from his computer and made a face at Brandtner.
"The fingerprints on the suicide note did not fit any of the ones on the criminal data base. Damn it, a first time offender."
"But who do you think would murder a famous athlete on a loosing streak?" asked Alex idly.
"Well someone with something to gain I suppose..." replied Christian airily.
"Every murder is done for something, Christian," Fritz retorted. "It could be money, fame, jealously, revenge..."
"Maybe he had a secret." said Alex, who had pricked his ears to Fritz's list.
"Like how to run slow?"
"No stupid, like a secret that would ruin the murderer's life."

"Oh," a wave of realisation washing over him. "Hey Fritz, what time is it?"
"Exactly 3:00pm"
"What?! Already! That investigation must have taken longer than I thought!"
"Why?" asked Alex frowning.
"I forgot to place my bets for the races! If I run, I might be able to just make it...if anyone asks, I'm out buying lunch."
"But it's 3:00..." the rest of the sentence was lost as Christian grabbed his coat and ran off to place his bets.
Kunz clucked disapprovingly and muttered something about betting under his breath.
Brandtner looked puzzled, "What happened to the office sweep?"
"The boys must have done it while you were gone."
"Oh" he said in a flat tone, staring at the ceiling trying to collect his thoughts.
Rex was happily chewing one of the many toys on his rug, ignoring them all in his quest to bite off its head.

When Christian got back, Alex had had an idea.
"Hey Christian, could you bet on anything else but horses there?"
Fritz and Christian looked at Alex as though he'd just lost his head. "Um yeah, there's greyhounds..."
"How about races like the one Michael was supposed to be running in?"
"Oh" Christian nodding knowingly and replied "Not in the place I just went to, no, but there is a pub down the road that...it's sort of unofficial though." he added hastily.
Kunz was about to say something when Brandtner cut in. "Say large amounts of money?"
"You can bet just about anything in there, as long as you have cash."
Kunz was now frowning fiercely "And how would you know, Inspector Christian Bock?"
Grinning mysteriously, Christian answered, "I have my ways..."
"But you're a police officer who's supposed to be upholding the law!"
Fritz's heated outbreak was interrupted by Alex who asked, "Can you take us there?"
"Yeah, I suppose..."
"Ok, Rex come!"
And they left Kunz staring after them wondering what had happened to law and order in the Austrian Police force.

XXXXX

Lying on the cold, hard concrete, Johnas came back to his senses. Shaking his aching head, it took him a minute to figure out where he was. He reached into his pocket to feel the familiar wad of cash then realised it was gone. Suddenly, memories of the previous night flooded back to him.
Did he, Johnas Hauser, really kill Michael von Tralein? He started at his hands as if they were still covered in blood. The fight in the hallway, he could still hear the muffled screams as he pinned him down on the bed and held the pillow down. The rope had been an after thought, to make it look like suicide. Then the note, his hand had shaken so much when he was trying to write it, he wasn't even sure if it made sense.
He felt the cut on his head - it ached dully at his touch. His thoughts still in a mess, he stumbled off.

XXXXX

The bar was dark and smokey compared to the summer sunshine outside. Rex sniffed the air and sneezed. The blonde girl behind the bar took in Alex , Christian and Rex, looking strangely out of place in their neat attire.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, eyeing them coyly.
"Christian Bock, Homicide squad," replied Christian, perhaps a little too forcefully.
"We're here to inquire about Michael von Tralein, the athlete who found dead last night." Alex cut in with a smile.
"I wasn't on last night. Max Martin was. He's over there." she replied, tilting her head in the direction of a couch where a person Alex supposed was Max was dozing.
Striding over to the couch, Christian cleared his throat before addressing the figure, "ahem, Mr. Martin?"

The figure blinked blearily before sitting up at the sight of Christian's police badge swinging in front of his eyes. He nodded mutely.
"Inspector Christian Bock and this is my colleague Brandtner. We're here to inquire about Michael von Tralein, the athlete who was found dead last night."
Taking out his notebook Christian continued, "We think there may be a link."
"Did you take any bets last night?"
Here the bartender hesitated. He was obviously torn between telling the truth and protecting his business. Rex nudged Brandtner's hand. In his mouth he had a piece of paper. Alex unfolded it.
It read, "80 schillings - Stein, Hans. 50 schillings - Iglisi, Sian..."he continued down the list, but stopped at "450,000 schillings - von T, Johnas."

XXXXX

"Hey Fritz, anything new?" asked Brandtner as he hung his coat on the rack.
Not looking up from the form he was filling in Fritz replied, "I checked the security around Michael's unit. They have guards there around the clock - we can get the guard on duty last night in for questioning."
"Yeah, that would be good." said Alex, settling into his chair.
"Hey Christian, could you do that?" he asked expectantly, turning to face his sour buddy. "I've got to look up the man the bartender was talking about..."
"Yeah, yeah I'll do it" Christian muttered half-heartedly.
Turning to Kunz, Alex explained about the result of their little excursion.
"I'm going to the lab to check the results of the autopsy first."
"Ohh and I'll be here right where you've left me," Kunz rolled his eyes.

XXXX

"So you're sure?" Alex stared pointedly at the plump coroner.
"Yes, I was right. Suffocation was the cause of death." Dr. Graf paused to light a cigar.
"No drugs in the system" he chuckled, "Maybe that's why he didn't get anywhere."
Alex allowed himself to grin "Anything else?"
"Ah yes, this might interest you. The blood sample on the wall was AB +…and had high alcohol content, so we’re looking at maybe someone in a drunken stupor.”
“So some drunk came in and killed him. Drunks don’t need reason!”
“They don’t have a conscience or a memory either.”
“Helpful.”

XXXXX

“Run, as fast as you can, to the middle of nowhere…”
Damn, even the songs on the radio were giving him the creeps. He reached for something to throw at the radio but stopped as he heard the news bulletin.
“The body of champion sprinter Michael von Tralein was discovered this morning in his apartment at the Austrian Institute of Sport. Police say –"
That was enough for Johans. Fuck, he thought, the whole world does know.

XXXXX

“So, did you notice anything out of the ordinary, anything at all when you were on duty last night?” Alex asked for the 3rd time.
“Nothing other than what I’ve already said!” the security guard replied exasperated.
“All right, thank you, you can go,” Alex let out a sigh as he watched him leave.
“Can I have another coffee?” he turned to Bock who was fiddling with the espresso machine.
“Coming up.”
“So neither of them said anything fascinating…check the staff list again Kunz.”
Christian flopped tiredly into his chair, coffee in hand and started complaining about the state of the world when Alex interrupted him.
“Have the cleaners questioned…”
“Already done that, Christian,” Kunz sat back and regarded them smugly. “Well, all except Johnas Hauser…he wasn’t in and he wasn’t answering his phone.”
“Wait, what did you say the name of the guy who bet the money was?”
“Johnas…”
“Well Johnas is a pretty common name, I can’t go asking every Johnas I notice!”
“But we can ask this one, Come on Rex, let’s go pay him a visit”

XXXXX

Alex pulled up outside a block of housing commission flats and carefully parked the car. It wasn’t the flashiest part of town – the building looked as if it would collapse if someone gave it a good push.
“You sure this is it?” Christian cautiously poked his head out the window.
He could see a few curtains twitching. Do we scream police or what? He thought to himself.
“Yup, pretty” Alex took one more look at the scrap of paper he’d scribbled the address on. “Rex, stay and watch the car ok?”
The building wasn’t much better inside. The stairway was crumbling and the hallway was cluttered with junk
““He’s a cleaner right, so he can start by cleaning his own place up first!” Christian grumbled as they picked their way through the trash.
“Here we are,” Alex searched for a doorbell but soon gave up and knocked instead.

No answer. He tried again. Silence. He was about to leave when he heard Rex barking. He rushed over to the window and saw a man hanging from the balcony of the unit he had been knocking on moments before.
“Christian, go down to bottom, I’ll follow” he pulled out his gun and motioned for Bock to do the same “Go!”
He kicked down the door and sprinted for the balcony. Leaning over the edge he saw the man drop onto the balcony below. “Stop! Police!” he pointed his gun but the man had already taken off.

Damn, he shoved it back into the holster and swung both legs over the railing. He was only 4 floors up but falling didn’t look a healthy option. Rex continued to bark frantically from the car. Arriving on the 3rd floor balcony he paused, unsure, until he heard a thud and an increased urgency in Rex’s barking. Spinning around he saw Johnas taking off - he had jumped from the 2nd floor balcony. Rex had immediately leaped out of the car to give chase. Christian had also taken off after them. He continued to make his way down via the balconies, by now people were sticking their heads out of windows to see what the fuss about. He leapt off the 1st floor balcony gracefully, with a landing that would have pleased any gymnastics coach. He could still see them, and being a natural athlete, soon caught up and overtook Christian. But it was all over as quickly as it had begun.

Johnas tripped and before he had the chance to get up Rex was standing over him baring his teeth and snarling. Johnas didn’t resist as Christian snapped on the handcuffs.
“It’s all right boy, come here Rex,” Alex panted, ruffling the thick fur on the dog’s neck.
“You, sir,” he looked pointedly at Johnas, “I’ve got some questions for you.”

XXXXX

“Thank you Leo, I’ll tell them at once.”
Alex hung up the phone, a grin lighting up his handsome face.
“The blood sample from Johnas matches the one from the scene!” he told Christian and Fritz who were looking at him expectantly.
“Let’s go for a proper lunch at the café hey guys?”¬ but before they could get anywhere the phone rang – it was Michael’s coach.
“Go on, I’ll catch you later,” he mouthed to Fritz and Christian who looked disappointed at the prospect of a delayed lunch.
“How’s it going? Have you solved it?”
“Actually, yes we have!”
"Johnas Hauser, he bet 450,000 schillings on Michael winning or placing in the 200m event, but he lost it all the minute Michael was disqualified. He needed the money to pay off a debt."

"But Mitchell hadn't won any of his last 6 races!" the coach exclaimed.
"Ah, but he was the only one anyone had heard of in the field. Hauser was drunk when he went to Mitchell's house that morning, the blood tests showed alcohol. He went in with some idea of getting his money back...but Michael thought he meant harm and started to defend himself, breaking into a scuffle in the hall. Johnas got kicked in the head - that's where the blood came from."
“I see…”
“So that’s it, pretty much” Alex finished up.
They chatted for a few more minutes before he hung up. He sat for a moment in the silence of the office before Rex whined and looked at him expectantly.
"huh Rex? We’d better catch up with the other 2 for lunch eh!” Alex grabbed his coat off the stand and followed his hungry dog out of the office.

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.