This is my late entry for the 
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The Devisal of Mr. Dankworth
by
and 
The familiar ping jerked through my morning haze, the signal of a new email arriving in my inbox, blared from my laptop. I hastily tapped at the volume. My fingers circled around the warm mug in my hand, the hot brush of steam warning me not to take a sip yet. I checked the screen, 16 new emails already this morning. Working from home had seemed so much easier, I never liked the office, or being out on the road, at least at home I had my own brand of coffee, and my cat Neelix, but the emails never stopped.
I cleared through the top 10 as spam, another 5 were easily filed, the last however caught my attention. My eyes focused on the sender name, I hastily placed my mug on the table and clicked the email. The sound of the news playing on the TV melted into the background, even the smell of my burning toast didn't interrupt my focus.
Good day,
My name is Michael Kent, I am the personal attorney and sole executor to my late client, Mr Ian Dankworth, who shares the same surname with you.
After the death of my client, in an automobile incident, in the year 2007, the bank contacted me to provide his next of kin to inherit his fortune, totaling Thirty Seven Million Bruvna ($37,000,000.00) according to the existing bank records.
I have written several letters to his country embassy with the intent of locating any of his immediate or extended family who will stand as the next of kin and all my efforts has been to no avail.
I have received official letters from the board of directors of the holding bank in the last few weeks suggesting a likely precedent for confiscation of his abandoned personal assets in line with existing laws, therefore I have been issued a 30 working days ultimatum to provide his next of kin or forfeit the deposit.
From my professional experience I can use any and all legal means available to re-profile and present you as the next of kin to my deceased client since you share his surname, this would enable you put a claim to the funds on our behalf.
Please kindly indicate your interest by responding to this email so we can discuss further.
Yours sincerely,
Barr. Michael Kent
I glanced at the scuffed bag by the door, I had known Mr Kent would contact me eventually. I was the last person in the country with the surname Dankworth. As my eyes read over the email again, I laughed to myself, this had been easier than I initially thought.
Neelix stalked past the black bag, rubbing up against it, he then stopped and pulled out his claws, pulling at the plastic material.
I stood up fast in an attempt to scare him, knocking my coffee over my laptop in the process. I swore and grabbed at some tissues, watching as the black liquid slowly absorbed. I would forever be cleaning up my own mess.
Here is My Ending
I thought to myself, "One mess at a time." I finished patting down my laptop a bit and then stood it on end with some paper towels underneath. "This will have to wait." I put out a small bowl of food for Neelix and scratched under his chin as I said goodbye.
Then I grabbed my purse and hoisted the two black bags near the door onto a dolly. I failed to notice the nametag that had fallen out onto the floor. It was from a diner across town with the name Alice D. and what appeared to be some sauce stains on it. I walked down the hall and into the elevator. Two floors later, the doors opened and old lady Anderson got on, pushing her grocery cart. Today was Thursday and she was on her weekly walk to the supermarket. We exchanged hellos and then rode in silence. Suddenly, I felt something brush down my leg; I let out a little gasp, but covered it up with a cough. I looked down and saw that a hand had come out of one of the bags. Apparently Neelix's claws tore an opening into the bag. I had to think fast. I turned the dolly a bit so that the hand was out of sight, and then leaned against the sidewall of the elevator to make it seem all natural to Mrs. Anderson. I knew that she'd be getting off at the lobby to go for her stroll, while I was going down another level to the underground garage. This would give me the chance to stuff the hand back into the bag before anyone could notice.
I finally made it to my car and loaded the two bags into the back of my 2003 Subaru Forester. It was a bit rundown, but had been dependable for many years. It was the perfect car to run around the city with, or to help with cleaning up my messes. Then I folded up the dolly and wedged it between the long canvas bag that was already in there and the two bags I just added. I pulled out my cellphone as I walked around to the driver's side door, got in, and pulled up the e-mail from Mr. Kent.
Dear Mr. Kent,
Thank you for contacting me. I was so saddened to hear of my uncle's passing. I am surprised I am now the next of kin. I had lost touch with much of the family, but didn't realize they were all gone as well.
I know where your offices are. Would it be possible to come in and talk with you today? I am in the middle of cleaning up a situation, but should be free in about two hours.
Sincerely,
Kimberly Dankworth
I then pulled a small notebook from my purse and opened it to a tabbed page which contained the list.
I crossed off my sister Alice's name. My phone lit back up with a ding. It was an e-mail response from Mr. Kent saying he could meet in two hours.
I then drove for half an hour to a large field just outside the city, and carried one bag at a time out to a spot behind a large rock in the field. There was some recently disturbed mounds of earth just on the other side of the rock. I pulled a shovel from the long canvas bag and began to dig the final hole.
First image - Pixabay