AFTER WHAT SEEMED like an eternity of shoveling snow, and a checking of the walls by Allison, the team was again ready to focus its efforts on the hut’s interior.
Allison scanned the room with childlike wonder. Makeshift shelves lined the wooden walls. “Look at this. This must have been one of the member’s personal space.” She lightly ran her hand over the eclectic collection of books on the shelves. “It’s like a time capsule from the 1890’s.”
Dianne opened one of the novels. “Moby Dick. My God, it’s a first edition.”
Allison picked up the pile of loose sheets that were acting as a bookend. She chuckled. “Music hall tunes. At least that was one way to while away the time. And they’re amazingly intact.” One half of the next shelf contained a man’s shaving mug and razor, with a half-used stick of lather stuck in an almost jaunty angle in a willow pattern shaving cup.
Allison squinted at the slightly faded writing on a bottle in a collection of small bottles. “Mason’s remedy for indigestion. This must have been their medical stores.” She pointed. “And look at those spirit bottles. I suppose that’s one way to keep warm.”
Next to a small table stood the remnants of a well-used rattan chair. A man’s pipe lay on the seat where it had been left. The eerie windswept silence of the sight affected Allison as she walked with care around the building’s interior. By the look on their faces, she could tell that the others felt the same.
Rick and Dianne quietly took photographs of everything, while Allison and Rob continued to carefully use the blades to widen the path into the hut.
Rob broke up yet another sheet of ice in front of him and jumped back in surprise. “Shit!”
Allison turned to see that Rob had uncovered the first of the beds.
Dianne pointed at the long object. “What’s that?”
Allison stroked the rough fabric and felt the distinct shape of something hard inside. She stood, wiping her hands on her trousers. “Rob, can you go and get Sarah and Michela?”
Rob disappeared and returned minutes later with the Sarah and Michela in tow.
“Wow,” Sarah exclaimed. “You’re really getting down to the bits and pieces now. This is like the museum exhibit I saw years ago in Auckland. Someone had gone to the trouble of recreating Scott’s accommodations. I thought that was good, but this is like going back in time.”
Allison motioned Michela and Sarah to her. “I suspect somewhat too real for my liking.”
Sarah sobered and looked at the lump on the bed. She touched the fabric and ran her hands along its contours. “It looks like someone’s used a sleeping bag as a funeral shroud.”
Rick peered over Michela’s shoulder. “What, you mean there’s a body in there? That’s disgusting.”
Sarah shook her head. “No, not disgusting. In fact I’d say it’s entirely practical. If someone died it’d be just as easy to sew them into their bag and allow the climate to do the rest.”
Dianne put as much space between her and the body as was possible. “Why would someone die in here? And why wouldn’t they be buried outside?”
“There could be a number of reasons. There could have been a blizzard that prevented his burial or the person or people who did the sewing may not have been capable of moving the body outside. I won’t be sure without further investigation.” Sarah studied the stitching at the top of the bag.
“That’s what I wanted to speak to you two about,” Allison said. “I’m interested to find out what’s within, but I didn’t know where I stood, it being a possible body and all. Michela, as team leader, what’s your call on this?”
Michela looked as if she was taken off guard. “I’m not quite certain, but as long as we’re respectful with how we check the body, then this shouldn’t be a problem.” She tapped Sarah’s shoulder. “What do you think?”
Sarah stood. “I think you’re right. Of course, it does help that before I studied to become a doctor I trained for a while in forensic anthropology.”
Rob scratched his head. “Bugger me, woman, is there anything you didn’t do?”
Sarah casually shrugged. “When you’re a child prodigy you’ve got to do something to occupy your time. After I finished my first degree, this seemed like a good way to fill in time before I worked out what I wanted to do next. I studied it for a while but found the whole thing too morbid. But it did prepare me for my medical degree.”
Dianne shuddered. “That’s awful. Playing with dead bodies.”
Sarah turned to Dianne. “I found it pretty interesting. And, in this case, helpful. Allison, I can review the body for you without creating too much of a mess, and at the same time try and determine a cause of death. I’ve already got an idea regarding the cause of death, but that’s all it is at this stage.” Her gaze trailed the length of the body and she pointed to a box under the feet. “What’s that?”
Allison gently removed the box from its resting-place. “It’s a suitcase, as if someone left it there in the hope it would some day be found. It’s heavy too. Let me see if I can open it.”
She gently put the suitcase on a wooden table and tried the clasps but they refused to budge. She gave the clasps a determined jiggle and it finally opened. “Oh my.”
Rob peered over her shoulder. “What are they?”
“They’re glass photographic plates. I’d say this belongs to the expedition’s photographer, Ian Ross, and I assume that’s his body on the bed. This is physical proof the expedition did indeed spend time on the continent. Here’s our pictorial history.” Allison reverently sorted through the plates. At the bottom of the case her fingers closed around a book, and she pulled it out and opened it. Reading the front page, she nodded. “It’s the diary of Ian Ross.”
Rick seized the diary from her hands. “This is fantastic. If we find nothing else this will make the museum a tidy sum and more than cement my, er, our position in the museum.”
Allison smugly smiled at Rick’s egocentricity. “Yes, it’ll be interesting to see what kind of information it contains. It’ll need to be photographed before we leave the site, in case something happens to it.”
Rick put the document to his chest. “Di and I can do that. You can occupy yourself with the body.”
Before Allison could object Rick and Dianne strode out of the hut.
“No worries, mate,” Rob muttered. “So what do we do now?”
“Alli, do you want me to do a preliminary inspection of the body?” Sarah asked.
Allison drew her brows together and tilted her head. “What, you mean an autopsy?”
“Not exactly. That’d involve inspection and dissection and I’m not really prepared for that. All I’d like to do is inspect the body. I think this will confirm my preliminary assessment regarding death. Is that okay with you?”
Allison thought about it and then nodded. “But where would you do it?”
The room was silent as everyone thought.
“What about the storage container for the sno-trak,” Allison suggested. “You know, the container we brought a lot of our gear in. We could rig up some lighting and put up a makeshift table. It would be tight, but it should suit your purpose.”
Sarah nodded. “Yes, it should do. Michela, do you mind helping me with this? I’d ask Rob, but he’s been known to faint at the sight of blood.” She dodged a mock blow from Rob. “And the way Alli’s looking at those photographs, I think I know what she’d rather be doing, am I right?”
Allison looked up. “What? Oh, yes. The diary would’ve been more interesting, but these should prove quite a challenge to wade through. But the next diary that’s found is definitely mine. Do you two mind working on the body?”
Michela shook her head.
“We’ll have to get the container ready and then, Rob, we’ll probably need your help to move the body,” Sarah said. “Where do you two intend to study the photos?”
Allison carefully closed the suitcase and handed it to Rob. “We’ll be in the mess hut. That way we should be able to
spread these out so they can be photographed.”
MICHELA AND SARAH shifted the majority of the boxes from inside the sno-trak container to make a temporary morgue. Rigging a string of temporary lighting from the xenon glow sticks, Michela made the container look more like a Christmas decoration than a repository for stores. After setting up a makeshift table in the middle of the space, with Rob’s help, they brought the body to the container.
Sarah removed her outer layer of clothing. “Have you ever done anything like this before?”
Michela shook her head. “I can’t say I have, although I’m a fast learner.”
“Promises, promises.” Sarah smiled before holding up her hands. “Only joking. Could you take notes while I dictate? They don’t need to be detailed, but should anyone question what we’ve done, then we’ll have a record. Plus, Alli can use it for her research.”
Sarah cut the twine that encased the body within the sleeping bag, while providing a running commentary on her actions. She pulled back the flap and smoothed her hand across the fur that comprised the inside of the bag. “Hmm, this looks to be like some sort of animal fur. If it’s like the bags made by later explorers, it’s probably caribou or something like that.”
Michela jotted down her notes. “What makes you say that?”
“Caribou fur’s remarkably warm. The hairs are hollow and trap the heat, making for a pretty toasty sleep. Not warm by our standards, but comfortable all the same.” Sarah unraveled the rest of the thick twine, revealing the body.
“He looks as if he’s just asleep.” Sarah lightly ran her hand over his clothing. “And look at these old clothes, they’re almost new. In fact, given the amount of time he’s been down here, he’s remarkably well preserved, but I believe the bag helped to ensure there was no real deterioration of the skin.
“He’s a white male. By the graying whiskers on his cheeks and his face, I’d say he’s in his late thirties, possibly early forties. However he died it was peaceful, as there are no signs of struggle or rigor in the face to indicate otherwise. Could you give me a hand to get this bag off him?” Michela stood on the opposite side of the table to Sarah, and they peeled the stiff bag from the frozen body.
“Right. I want to check his body.” Sarah carefully cut through the man’s jumper, and then undid the buttons of his vest and shirt. After spreading them open, she cut through his undergarment to reveal the torso of Ian Ross. “I don’t think we need to go any further.”
Michela looked down at the body. “What do you mean?”
“See how his stomach’s concave?” Michela nodded. “Now look at his ribs. You can count every single one of them. His pelvis is the same as is his collarbone. This man didn’t die of natural causes, but he did die of starvation. Hang on, look at the displacement of his left foot.”
Sarah felt the length of the Ian Ross’ leg. She cut his left trouser leg, revealing a rudimentary splint. “Poor bugger, he broke his leg at some stage. That must have hurt like Hades.”
Michela nodded. “Probably the reason why someone as important as a photographer was still in the hut rather than part of any inland expedition.”
“You’re right,” Sarah said. “Without a full dissection, I don’t think we’re going to get much more out of Mr. Ross. I suggest we re-dress him and re-sew the bag. Once we’ve done this we’ll put him back where we found him. At least there we can preserve his remains.”
THE TABLE OF the kitchen hut was strewn with the mess made by Allison and Rob.
“Look at this one,” Rob exclaimed. He held a glass plate to the light. The image was of a group of people standing on a wharf, as if in the process of bidding someone or something farewell. “Can you read the name on the banner there?”
Allison held up her magnifying glass and strained her eyes to read the infinitesimal writing. “It says Christchurch. This must have been taken during their last stop.” She slapped Rob’s back. “Bless the industriousness of Ian Ross, he’s left us with visual proof of what sort of expedition Finlayson led. And bless the person who had the presence of mind to lay him to rest in proximity of his photographic plates. Let’s see if we can divide these into some logical sequence.”
A half hour later Sarah wandered into the hut. “Bloody hell. He certainly was a shutterbug.”
Rob and Allison looked up. “Yep, he sure was.” Rob pulled his chair in to allow Sarah access to the sink. “Did you and Michela find out anything?”
“In a way, yes. I think we can assume by what was found at the foot of the bed, if not the diary in the suitcase that the body we’re dealing with is that of the expedition’s photographer, Ian Ross. He must have suffered a fall at some stage during the expedition as someone’s done a pretty good job of splinting his leg.”
“Did he die from the fall?” Allison asked.
“Nothing that dramatic. By the state he’s in I’d say he died of starvation. His body was pretty thin. I’ve put him back in his sleeping bag and Michela and I returned him to his bed in the hut. That should keep him well preserved until you work out what you want to do with him.” Sarah took a mug from the drying rack.
“Still that’s a pretty terrible way to go, getting progressively weaker and weaker,” Rob said, a concerned look on his face.
“You’re right, but in the end he most likely went to sleep and didn’t wake up. It could have been a lot worse.” Sarah’s words hung in the air. Allison knew that Ewan was still on everyone’s mind.
Dianne and Rick, carrying the diary, entered the hut.
“He starved to death,” Rick said.
Allison looked up, a nonplussed expression on her face. “We know that already. Sarah told us.”
Rick scowled at Sarah. “But does she know there were two expeditions, the first one leaving within days of arrival and in direct contravention to Finlayson’s orders. They never returned. Only a handful of dogs made it back. The second expedition left and Finlayson couldn’t go with it—he’d badly sprained his ankle.”
Allison eagerly sat forward. “Does he say what happened to him? Did he go after the others?”
Dianne shrugged. “We don’t know. We only got so far into the diary and then, well,” she looked sideways at Rick, “we got sidetracked.”
Ugh, too much information and by the look on Rick’s face, he’s glad she said it as well. The sooner I see the back end of you, mister, the better. Allison maintained a calm outward stance. “I’d be grateful if you could keep working on it. Are you photographing as you go along?”
“Of course we are. What do you take us for? Amateurs?” Rick asked. “When’s dinner, I’m starving.” He jumped at the voice behind him.
“It’ll be cooked as soon as I can get some space in here.” Michela walked around him and stared at the photographic plates spread across every flat surface in the hut. “Alli, Rob, I’m sorry but if we’re to eat I really do need a little space. The last thing I’d want to do is spill something on those plates.”
Rob smiled. “No worries. If you like, Alli, I’ll take these back to my hut and see if I can group them as we were discussing. When you’re ready you can come and take a look.”
Allison smiled, grateful to have her attention diverted from Michela’s close proximity to her. “Not a problem. Let me know when you’re ready.”
The group dispersed, allowing Michela the space she needed to prepare dinner. She hummed silently and started at the movement behind her.
Sarah snagged a biscuit from Michela’s preparation bench. “So, did you see that?”
Michela lightly hit her with a mixing spoon. “What do you mean?”
Sarah munched loudly on her ill-gotten gains. “With Alli just then. She changed when you arrived, almost as if she wasn’t all that comfortable being near you.”
Michela slapped the spoon down on the bench. “And that’s supposed to prove what? That she likes me? If anything I think that proves she’s not at all at ease in my presence and that’s damn great.”
“For a psy
chologist you really don’t have a clue, do you? Didn’t you ever read that verse, and I’m paraphrasing here: I search for your face in a crowd and then turn away, afraid of the love others might see.”
Exasperated, Michela shook her head. “My friend, I think you’ve been on one too many trips to Antarctica. It’s time you found yourself a woman to waste your romantic ideals on.”
Sarah chuckled as she walked to the door. “Mark my words, Michela, mark my words.”
SARAH WAVED ACROSS the compound at Michela, who was struggling with several bundles. “Hey, do want a hand with that?”
Michela handed half of the bundles to Sarah, relieved to have relinquished some of the weight. “Thanks. This darned frozen food weighs a ton. Besides, I don’t know why I’m cooking anyway. No one seems to be bothering eating these days.”
Sarah laughed. “Yeah. Things have changed around here with the Ross discovery. It’s as if those three have gained a new burst of energy.”
“I know what you mean. It’s a shame half his diary was ruined by water. The mystery of the expedition’s demise remains unsolved.” Michela nudged open the door of the mess hut.
They walked in and Sarah closed the door behind her. “At least the mystery of his leg’s been solved. Imagine a crate of your own gear falling on your leg. That must have hurt like blazes.”
“I’d have preferred they didn’t find out that information. The way Rick carried on when he found out there was the possibility of another hut around here, I could have wrung his neck.”
Sarah chuckled. “You’ll need to get in line with that one. I think Alli would’ve beaten you to it.”
Michela, a wistful smile on her face, looked at the small pile of photographic plates on the table. “She’s really begun to stand up to him and I’m glad to see that. So what have they been up to this morning?”
“Di and Rick were bagging and tagging the artifacts they’re taking back to Australia and then they were going to join Rob and Alli in the hut. I think they’ve been trying to track a course around the internal walls of the hut.” Sarah headed for the door. “Are you coming over?”
Colder Than Ice Page 20
