O.K., this is the very last chapter of my story. I must say that I loved to write it and I loved to post it even more. Thanks a lot to Sandra, who'd kept an eye on plot, language and grammar!
And of cause, thanks a lot to all those who'd been patiently waiting for each new chapter.
At the moment I don't have any idea for an other story, but that doesn't mean anything. The plot and the raw construction for "
The Executioner" was born within half a day, though the writing needed much more time. Considering your guessing about the killer: I "knew" him from the moment I wrote the chapter about the meeting of day- and nightshift at a crime-scene. ;D
@sam: Gallagher a bit unstable? *Ghihihihi* Just have a look on the epilogue
@all: so let's say '
good-bye' to our most beloved characters...
Epilogue It was a long time ago since he had been here. He gazed over the open area at his feet. Then he estimated the angle to the ground where his aim would appear quite soon. He crouched down and searched for the right position.
‘Perfect,’ he thought.
In the meantime down on the calm street the scenery did not seem to change at all. Even though it was close to the evening rush hour there were not much cars on the street. The place down in the huge garden he was gazing at was calm as well, and only seldom one of the visitors changed his seat between one of the different terraces. Nobody felt uncomfortable or observed.
With a sigh he realized that there would not be anybody on his way to the next superstore or after-work party. Compared to the beehive-atmosphere of the city center, his new target chose a quite boring and calm surrounding.
First he thought he had heard something moving right behind him, but when he listened closer without shifting his body, the sound was gone again.
‘Don’t get nervous, lad. It was only the wind playing with some dust.’“Gallagher! What the hell are you doing here??!” The shouting was hard to stand and came from a bear-like black body-builder they called ‘warden’ in this psychiatry.
“This is already the third time you’ve left the closed unit and I have to snatch you from this lousy, hot and stinking roof!”
Gallagher did not complain about Jimmy – that was the name of this human hooter – but giggled. His giggling did not stop until he was brought back into his room again.
***
“A bit more to the left,” Stella said and Mac sighed silently.
‘This is the last time somebody persuades me to help with the moving!’ Mac promised himself and just tried to hold the huge silver-framed black-and-white photography of the Brooklyn Bridge as horizontal as possible. At the same time he balanced on the backrest of the sofa and hoped this d*** furniture would break AFTER he had finished fixing the picture at its place.
All those pictures had been the last part of Stella’s moving. She lived in her new apartment since round about a month, but the pictures had been the last part to get arranged. Suddenly Stella noticed how Mac lost his balance. She jumped forward, caught the picture and put it aside, while Mac had a hard touchdown on the floor between sofa and table.
“Ouch!” was everything he said clearly and then he mumbled some curses between his teeth, Stella luckily could not understand properly. When he came back onto his feet again, she said: “I guess we should fix this tomorrow. It’s already got quite late.”
“And I guess this idea could have come to your mind just a minute earlier,” Mac snarled, but eased the meaning of his words by a wry grin. He pulled a face when he touched his right shoulder which had caught most of his weight as he landed on the floor.
“Well, when this pic is fixed there’s only one left,” Stella answered his smile.
“Lucky me,” Mac said without too much enthusiasm, but then had a look around without seeing it. “Do I already know it?” he finally asked.
Stella went to the last huge box which had contained most of her pictures and grabbed a little photo of only the size of an big hand in a light silver-frame.
“Maybe you’ve an idea where to put this?” she asked and handed it over to him.
It seemed as if the picture was taken during a party of the whole team – maybe at ‘
Maurice’. The photographer had chosen a moment Mac and Stella had forgotten the world around them and had been deeply caught in a conversation. The smile on their faces told the beholder that it was a very private and no business-talk. They had felt unobserved which gave the picture a kind of intimacy which could not be found on most of the pictures made on such an occasion.
A deep smile went over Mac’s face. He took Stella by the hand and led her to the bedroom where he put the picture on the nightstand.
“Just the very perfect place,” Mac said and Stella was sure he did not only mean the picture.
***
When he came along the ballistic lab, Horatio noticed that the lights had already been switched off. He was surprised, because normally he was the one who had to pick up Calleigh down there. Still wondering where she was, he went back to his office and started to switch off his PC. He arranged some files for tomorrow and flipped through some papers of the latest case they had been working on since this morning.
The office was already quite calm, most of the colleagues had already gone home and the nightshift had already taken over the lead since half an hour.
Horatio felt lost. Calleigh did not tell him where she wanted to go to after work and so there was nothing left for him to do than to wait. In the meantime he thought over if he had done something wrong which made her upset since the evening at
Aton Stud, but…- No… they did do something at Aton Stud, but – nope – definitely nothing wrong. … He smiled.
Suddenly he noticed the soft steps coming to his office. He looked up and saw into the lovely face of Calleigh who already carried her office-bag and was ready to go.
“Was it you or me who’d forgotten about time?” Horatio asked.
“I guess we both did,” Calleigh confided. “I’ve carried the latest ballistic results to Frank, chatted with him a bit… and forgot about time. Sorry, Horatio.” Her smile was as breathtaking as ever.
Horatio lifted from his chair, the screen of his PC finally went black and with a smooth motion he went around his desk. Calleigh did not realize how fast Horatio was moving until he took her into his arms, kissed her deeply until they both went out of breath. With his deep and wonderful voice he said: “Excuse accepted.”
The End 
