Tuto věc jsem přeložil do angličtiny na podzim roku 1986, tedy ještě před odchodem do emigrace. Původní nápady vycházejí z již nedochovaného rukopisu mého bratra Jiřího, který psal ve věku 13 let roce 1979 souběžně s mými "Kóliemi". Text jsem ponechal v původní verzi jako důkaz své tehdejší znalosti anglického jazyka. Ve stejné době (1986) jsem vyrobil i nahrávku, kde jsem namluvil všechny role sám. Ta se též dochovala.

Jansen Raichl

A SUICIDE OR A HOMICIDE ?
 ("Kolie")

Based on a previous version of "A Suicide or a Homicide?" (Dědictví slečny Kólie) written by my brother, then aged 13, in the summer of 1979.

The Characters:
"DYNAMITE" Rietcher, his MOTHER, FATHER, aunts TRIONOL and KOLIE, ATTORNEY, FIRED - a policeman

Set in a large German villa in Western Bohemia in the summer of 1979.


DYNAMITE ( sitting at the table and typing )
KOLIE ( approaches ): What are you writing. Dynamite?
DYNAMITE ( takes out a gun and shoots her dead )
TRIONOL ( approaches ): Lunch is ready. Halt all activities.
DYNAMITE: I must finish the will.
TRIONOL ( fussy ): After lunch.
DYNAMITE: I haven't included you in the list yet.
TRIONOL: Never mind. You will do it later. The meal would get cold. And please clear that stuff away. Take the thing out of the table.
DYNAMITE:There is no room on the floor.
TRIONOL: Yes, because you left the carcass here. I will take this to the kitchen. And you remove Kolie or I won't be able to carry the food. ( leaves with the typewriter in her hands. )
DYNAMITE ( kicks Kolie under a coach and then takes the pistol away from the room ).
( the door bell goes )
TRIONOL, MOTHER, FATHER, DYNAMITE ( hurry into the room )
MOTHER: "What jerk is disturbing us before lunch, and at these mournful moments of our dear my uncle's brother's sister-in-law's daugher-in-law's death?
ATTORNEY ( enters ): Good morning everybody.
( the clock starts to strike twelve )
ATTORNEY: Good afternoon everybody. I am Undergraduate, attorney.
TRIONOL: If you are undergraduate, what are you doing here then?
ATTORNEY: My name is Undergruduate. I went along the street and heard some shooting here ...
MOTHER and TRIONOL ( start shaking their heads )
ATTORNEY: ... so I got an idea that someone had shot HERself and left a testament which is awaiting me to verify it.
MOTHER: Where's the will?
ATTORNEY ( ironically ): Where's the beef?
TRIONOL ( hurriedly puts a plate in his hand ): Here it is.
ATTORNEY: Thanks. People in cases like this usually type their will on a typewriter but often absent-mindedly forget to finish it.
DYNAMITE ( to TRIONOL ): Where is the typewriter?
TRIONOL ( shrugs her shoulders )
ATTORNEY: Typewriters are most commonly stored in kitchen closets.
TRIONOL: Where is the kitchen?
ATTORNEY ( sniffs ): Here. ( heads into the kitchen ). MOTHER, TRIONOL ( follow him as far as the door )
ATTORNEY ( opens the closet, takes the sheet out of the typewriter, goes back, and in the upright posture reads ): My latest will. ( turns to the audience and smiles ): I, Kolie Bichlová, ... Her name is Büchlová.
DYNAMITE: How do you know that?
ATTORNEY: There is a door label.
TRIONOL: Dynamite often gets into the house through the window, you know..
ATTORNEY: People writing such important documents often get excited and ... then this may happen easily.
TRIONOL: Yes. My mother also misspelled her ... my name when she was writing her will.
ATTORNEY: What did you inherit?
TRIONOL ( blushes ): Eh. eh, you should know that.
ATTORNEY ( emphatically ): Yes, I do. The General Everything, Incorporated.
MOTHER, FATHER ( turn at, Trionol frowningly )
TRIONOL ( smiles cheerfully ): Yes, Everything Incorporated. ( walks into a corner, in a sad voice ): Poor mother ... had only four employees.
ATTORNEY: Listen to this. I bequeath everything....
MOTHER: Incorporated ( bursts out laughing )
ATTORNEY: to Dynamite? ( looks astonished )
DYNAMITE: It's my nickname.
ATTORNEY ( grunts that he understood ): except for the clock in this room ...
TRIONOL: I love it.
ATTORNEY: to my mother.
TRIONOL ( turns to Dynamite ): What?
ATTORNEY: If you mean this one, you may still have it. Don't forget that this document was written in the kitchen.
MOTHER: But the clock is the kitchen is awfully dirty.
ATTORNEY: Are you Miss Büchlová's mother?
MOTHER: I am Mr George Dynamite Rietcher's mother.
ATTORNEY: So shut up.
MOTHER: We'll add it into the sarcophagus.
ATTORNEY: Shut up. And except for the grand piano whloh will go ...
FATHER ( smiles ): Well done.
ATTORNEY: to MY father.
FATHER: Whose father? Dynamite's father.
ATTORNEY: No.
FATHER: Dynamite's father. His father To me, me ... I, only I have always played on it. And now an 80-year-old sclerotic imbecile should have it. Where's the gun? ( I turns ut Dynamite ): Where is it? You've been shooting long enough already. Now, I'll shoot!
TRIONOL: Dynamite's hobby is shooting ... birds.
MOTHER ( obviously irritated ): Get out of here, you attorney! Do you want to be shot too? Who would read the wills of the survivors, I mean for the survivers. Get out!
(takes Attorney by arm and drags him away)
ATTORNEY ( on the way ) : The police are coming. I am a son of a psychic. I know everything!
FIRED ( enters the room after Mother returned ): I was going down the street and I saw the layer who uses the nickname Undergraduate whenever we attempt to arrest him during court sessions and is...
TRIONOL: It's too overcomplicated. Who are you?
FIRED: I am Fired.
TRIONOL: From where?
FIRED: From the Police Station at 27 Běla Rietcherová Road.
TRIONOL: And here you are doing ... what? (opens the door)
FIRED: Robert Bobby Fired is my name. I'm in charge of investigation of bad treatment given to attorneys. But sometimes I give bad treatment to attorneys myself ... Aaah! ( yelling effeminately ): Blood! Horror! My sister writes detective stories. Where is she? I need her help! ( realizes his embarassing behavior, quietly ): Sorry, a fit of epilepsy. Where am I?
TRIONOL: A relative of ours shot herself. The Undergraduate was here because of the testament. Could you write the report?
FIRED: Report on what?
TRIONOL: On the suicide.
FIRED: I can't do things like this.
TRIONOL: I will dictate.
FIRED: But ... no.
TRIONOL: You might get promoted. ( puts the typewriter on the table ): Write. July 23, 1979. Kolie Büchlová, an old maiden, write, ... an old maiden, shot herself in her dining room at five minutes to lunch time, so vigorously that she fell deep under a local bed.
FIRED: It would be good to mention the weapon.
DYNAMITE: It was one of the historical pistols.
FIRED: by a historical pistol. ( ends typing ): By the way, where is the gun now?
DYNAMITE: My elder brother's just cleaning it in the bathroom.
FIRED: Good. It's a valuable weapon. It would be a shame to have it dirty.
( the bell goes )
MOTHER ( comes in ): A telegram. For the policeman in your room. It says. ... You are fired.
FIRED: Yes. Robert Bobby.
MOTHER: It says, the man who is employed at the Police and has no last name is dismissed from now on from his duties and responsibilities. Reason: he is typing insane statements in the room of a murdered lady and is sitting on the bed under which her body is lying. Undergraduate, newly appointed boss of the Police.
(a short silence)
TRIONOL: I hope you understand that your continued presence here is no longer desirable.
FIRED ( rises ): I guess I'd better look for a new job.
MOTHER: Right. ... ( to Trionol ): We should lay Kolie somewhere else.
She will soon start to stink. ( they drag Kolie's body from under the coach, to Fired ): She shot herself elsewhere, you get it?
FIRED ( at seeing Kolie ): It's my mother! She looks older than when I last saw her, but it's her. ... I'm so glad that she is dead.
ATTORNEY ( coming ): And another reason why you should be happy is that you are the only heir. And that's why I didn't hesitate to dismiss you from our service. Your dispositions don't fit your past occupation, and now you will be rich enough to live without working. ( speaks up ): To make it clear to the others. This is Robert Büchel, reported missing since he was abandoned by his mother on a merry-go-round in a Munich amusement park in January 1961. As an attorney I could put the whole matter in order.
FIRED: ( takes out his pen and cheque book ) How many zillions do I owe you?
ATTORNEY: Oh, don't bother about it. I admire you as you have devoted your life to sincere effort to protect the rights of attorneys. ( turns to the others ): You, on the other hand, are under arrest.
MOTHER: What for?
ATTORNEY: For orchastrating the worst performed murder in the history of criminal literature.