by Dutchman
Julia was on to him. “I don’t believe you. Show me what you put in your pocket!”
“It’s nothing,” Charlie repeated. “Just forget it.”
“Then why won’t you show it to me?” Julia said. “I think it’s a map to the old man’s mine, an’ that’s why you won’t show it.” She grabbed his arm. “Give it to me!”
Desperate to distract her, Charlie pushed her arm aside and tried to change the subject. “I see your poison worked faster than you expected.”
“My poison?” she exclaimed. “What are you talking about? The poison was your idea.”
“That’s as it may be, my dear,” Charlie said, edging toward the door. “You’re the one who put it in his food.”
Surprised and confused, Julia sputtered, “But killing was your idea.”
“Can you prove it?” Charlie said, taking another step toward the door.
Julia stared at him, “You f---in’ bastard!”
“I ain’t arguing,” he said. “I’m a bastard. But the fact remains, you’re the one who killed him.”
Enraged, she raised her right arm and swept the dishes from the counter with a crash, leaving a solitary knife in the sink, a knife with a long thin blade. Julia picked it up and started for Charlie.
He raced through the bakery and grabbed the doorknob. It caught and refused to turn!
She rushed at him, holding the deadly blade shoulder high. He feinted a move to his left.
She fell for his bluff. Her knife hit the wall and stuck. Before she could pull it out, Charlie thrust her to the floor and took hold of her neck, squeezing with all his might.
His fingers cut off Julia’s breath. She thrashed desperately, managed to free her right arm, and tore at his unprotected eyes with her fingernails. His grip loosened ever so slightly, but it was enough for her to wiggle out.
She grabbed an amber soda bottle and whacked Charlie as he started to stand. It stunned him and he went down. She tried to hit him again, but he grabbed the bottle and wrested it from her. She backed toward the kitchen. Charlie followed, brandishing the bottle.
Reaching the cash register where she kept a small pistol, Julia hit the total key, causing a bell to ring and the cash drawer to jump out. The bell made Charlie pause long enough for Julia to grab the pistol and shoot him in the heart.
Blood gushed from Charlie’s wound, making a crimson splash on his white shirt, but it didn’t stop him.
Julia fired again, but Charlie’s momentum carried him forward. He grabbed her and smashed the base of her skull on the cash register.
She whimpered and sank to the floor, with Charlie on top of her. Their bodies were discovered an hour later, too late for help.
There was speculation as to the cause of their death, but a coroner ruled it was just an unfortunate accident.
Nobody really cared why or how Weiser died — or who he really was.
And the real story of Jacob Waltz was buried along with the treasure.