Dutchman and the Devil : The Lost Story (9781456612887) (19 page)

Relief, that’s what she felt. No more and no less.

But as she sank into a deep sleep, Julia’s last feeling was maybe she didn’t need Charlie as much as she’d thought she did.

The cock’s crowing awakened her. Slanting rays of early morning sun shone on her ivory pillowcase. Julia yawned and rolled onto her side, half-expecting to embrace her lover, but found only a pristine pillow. She was too exhausted to care. She turned over and went back to sleep.

An hour later, the cock crowed again. Julia shook the cobwebs from her mind and smiled, remembering she was a rich woman. She wanted to run downstairs and throw open the lid of the old man’s treasure chest and let gold nuggets run through her fingers. But that wouldn’t do. “No,” she thought, “I need to act like this is just another ordinary day at the bakery. I can’t let on that I know the old man is dead, an’ I won’t let myself look in his room until I’ve made coffee. That’s a good idea — I’ll have a cup of coffee for him in my hand when I open his door.” She went to her closet and chose a plain-Jane calico dress that wouldn’t show the stain when she faked surprise and spilled coffee on it.

She put the plain-Jane dress on, buttoned its bodice, subdued her unruly black curls into a tight coil at the nape of her neck, and went downstairs, giving no more than a passing thought to Charlie.

Charlie showed up as the coffee grounds were settling in the pot. “Good morning, my dear,” he said, kissing the back of her neck.

She paid no attention and began to pour coffee into a white mug.

“So that’s how she wants to play it,” he thought. The best way to deal with that was turn a deaf ear to the ice in her tone. He looked around the kitchen and said, “How’s the old man this morning?”

Without looking up, Julia said, “Still sleeping.”

Charlie looked at her more closely. He assumed she was sulking because he had stayed out all night, but his intuition suggested another possibility: maybe she wanted to cut him out of sharing the old man’s gold. He wasn’t going to stand still for that! The old man was as good as dead already, probably too weak to put up a fight if he went in an’ helped himself to some gold. It was worth a try. He started toward the storeroom, and, as he did so, Julia put down her coffee and stepped between him and the door. “Don’t open it!” she commanded.

He pushed her aside, threw open the door, and recoiled at the burst of putrid air from the storeroom.

“I told you, don’t open the door!” Julia said, but Charlie paid no attention to her or the stink of the old man’s remains. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, used it to cover his nose, and went for the treasure chest. To his astonishment, it slid out easily, and he landed on his ass. He righted himself quickly and opened the chest.

It was empty. “What the hell’s going on here?” he demanded.

Julia was right behind him. He swung around and struck her, knocking her to the floor. “What’re you trying to pull, sweetheart?”

“What’re you talking about?” she said, just as surprised as Charlie.

“Don’t try to play innocent with me, bitch,” Charlie spat. “Where’s the goddamn gold?”

Julia got to her knees and stared at the empty chest. Dumbfounded, she sat back and rubbed her eyes in disbelief, “I swear to God I don’t know.”

Charlie ignored her and peered intently into the undeniably empty chest. He thought he saw a small piece of folded paper tucked in a corner of it.

On the off chance it was a map, he had to get Julia out of the room before checking it out. Putting on his best rueful smile, he helped her to her feet and said, “Julia, honey, I’m so sorry for my rude behavior. We have to stick together here, if we’re going to get our gold back. Let’s kiss and make up.”

Old habits die hard, and Julia wanted to believe he was still her loyal partner. She didn’t protest when he put his arms around her and kissed her lips.

Nor did she protest when Charlie said casually, “Now, how about making us a pot of tea?” and gave her a gentle nudge toward the kitchen.

Julia went, but not before she saw him stoop down, reach into the supposedly empty chest, and pick up a scrap of paper. She saw him glance at it, but instead of showing it to her, he shoved it in his pocket.

“What do you have there?” she said sharply.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, meeting her eyes with the direct gaze of a practiced liar.

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.