The Shivering Mountain

by Paul Somers

  I was bursting with questions, but this was no time to ask them. We’d been badly shocked, and we were soaked to the skin. The passage was icy, and we were shivering with cold. Unless we got moving again there’d be no future for any of us. I shone the torch around. For the moment, there was only one way to go. The tunnel we’d come through was blocked, and it would probably be many hours before we could return that way to the entrance. The water at our feet was still rising, though slowly. I said, “Come on, Mollie, let’s see where this passage leads.”

  As we turned, Barr said, “I can tell you where it leads.”

  “Oh! Where?”

  “It comes out above the cave where Landon is.”

  I stopped short. “Then you did find him …!”

  He made a derisive sound. “Of course we found him. As we already knew where he was, there wasn’t much difficulty! When we met you, we’d just talked to him. We knew you’d talked to him. We knew everything.”

  The mask was right down now! Or was it? Cold or not, I couldn’t leave things there. I said, “Why all that pretence in the tunnel, then?”

  “There were good reasons for that, but it’ll take time to tell you.”

  “If you knew Landon was here, why didn’t you try to get him out? Why leave him for the kidnappers?”

  For a moment Barr regarded me sardonically. Then he said, “My dear fellow, there never were any kidnappers!”

  “No kidnappers …!”

  “A pure invention … Landon wasn’t kidnapped. He faked everything to look as though he had been, that’s all. The ransom letters were all written by him. The telephone calls from the supposed kidnappers were faked on his instructions. He organised everything.

  Far from being kidnapped, he hid himself away here of his own accord.”

  It seemed incredible. “Why would he do that …?”

  “Because he wanted the ransom money, of course.”

  “You mean he faked the whole thing for personal gain?”

  “That’s exactly it. Landon’s a genius gone wrong. Now you know the truth.”

  I very much doubted that! “And what are you?” I asked. “Where do you come into it?”

  “I’m entirely on the level, though I realise it may not seem so to you at the moment.”

  “I’ll say it doesn’t. What were you and Clara doing here? What have you been up to?”

  “I can explain everything, Curtis, but it’s pretty involved.… Look, why don’t we go down and join Landon, and I’ll tell you the whole story while we get warm. We’ll only freeze to death if we stay talking here.”

  That made sense, if nothing else did. I took Mollie’s arm and helped her up the short, steep slope that led away from the stream. There was a bend, and almost at once we were looking down into the great cavern. At the point where we’d emerged from the stream, we’d only been a few yards away from it. Landon’s encampment lay a little to the left of us, forty feet below. The paraffin fire and lamp were burning brightly and looked most inviting. I couldn’t see any sign of Landon. I shone the torch down on the ground. Near the edge of the rock, two iron pitons had been driven into cracks. One end of a rolled-up steel wire ladder was attached to them. Beside the ladder there was a coil of nylon rope, also made fast.

  I stood well back with Mollie while Barr unrolled the ladder and lowered it over the edge. I trusted him less than ever. It was true he’d suddenly become very forthcoming about a lot of things, but with the tunnel closed behind him and Landon’s cavern so near, a certain amount of frankness had been more or less forced on him. He must have realised that we’d go up the slope and find the cavern ourselves, and once we’d found it we’d obviously go down and talk to Landon again. Whatever there was to be discovered, we’d have discovered it in the end. All Barr had done so far was to go along with the inevitable. He’d need watching all the time.

  As the ladder touched bottom, he stepped back. “All ready, Miss Bourne. There’s nothing to worry about—we’ll tie the rope to you and use it as a safety line.” He had the end of the rope in his hand.

  “I’ll do it,” I said. “And I’d feel much happier if you kept out of the way. Here, take the torch.”

  He shrugged. “You’ve got me all wrong, Curtis, but I suppose I’d better humour you.” He withdrew a little way up the passage, and sat down.

  I said, “All right, Mollie?”

  She nodded.

  I made the rope fast round her. She was shaking with cold and looked exhausted, but she was very game. She knelt down with her back to the cavern and gripped the top of the ladder and got her feet into the rungs. Then, slowly, she began to descend. I took a turn with the rope round a rock projection and held it with only a little slack, ready to take the strain if she slipped. I didn’t think she would—in this sort of situation she could usually call up reserves of nerve and strength. I was more concerned about Barr. I kept one eye on him all the time. The ladder had begun to sway unpleasantly with no one at the bottom to hold it, but Mollie was nearly down. If I had to, I could safely let go of the rope now. Barr had made no move. It was all right. I felt the rope swing free as Mollie reached the ground and untied it. She waved, and I hauled it up.

  Barr got to his feet. “Okay, Curtis—you go ahead.”

  “After you,” I said, and moved away from the edge.

  “My God, you’re suspicious.”

  “With thirty thousand pounds back there in the tunnel,” I said, “I’d be a fool not to be.”

  “It’s under water—you know that.”

  “It won’t be for ever. If anything happened to me, you could have another crack at getting it out, couldn’t you?”

  “I told you—I was taking it to the police.”

  “You told me a lot of things. Most of them weren’t true.”

  For a moment he looked very nasty. I thought he was going to start a rough house there and then, and I braced myself. It would have been a bad place. Perhaps he thought the same thing—or perhaps I was just misjudging him. Anyhow, he didn’t do anything.

  “Have it your own way,” he said. He got on the ladder and went down fast. He was obviously used to it. I followed him as he stepped off. Mollie was standing at the bottom, waiting. At once we started to cross the few yards of uneven floor to the camp. The murmur of the cavern stream was a good deal louder than it had been, but in this great open space it held no menace.

  As we moved into the circle of light, Landon suddenly appeared. He’d been in his tent, with the paraffin fire roaring at the entrance, and he evidently hadn’t heard us. When he saw us, he stopped short, staring. He was staring mostly at Barr. He seemed to be taking in our sodden clothes, our bedraggled appearance.

  “What’s happened?” he said—and then, in a sharper tone: “Where’s Clara?”

  Barr said, “I’m afraid I’ve got bad news for you, Landon.”

  “We were trapped by storm water in the tunnel.… I don’t need to tell you I did my best to help her—but she struggled.… She was drowned.”

  There was a little silence. Landon was as still as the clump of stalagmite behind him.

  “Are you quite sure she’s dead?” This time he seemed to be speaking to me.

  “I’m afraid there’s no doubt about it,” I said.

  “The tunnel’s full—right to the roof.… I’m sorry.”

  He still didn’t move. His expression was unfathomable. If he was hard hit, he scarcely showed it. No one seemed to be reacting normally to Clara’s death. Perhaps he hadn’t cared about her, either. It wouldn’t be surprising. If he’d really behaved in the fantastically criminal way that Barr had said, he must be a very queer bird.

  All the same, there was something I felt I must tell him. I said, “When the stream started to rise, Landon, Clara thought of you. She was worried about you—she must have thought the water would come in here, too. She called out, ‘Father …!’ and she started to come back this way on her own. She thought of you and she wanted to be with you. I don’t know if
it means anything to you—but there it is.”

  His face softened a little. “Yes—that does mean something to me.… Thank you.” He turned his head away. “Poor Clara!” he said.

  I still couldn’t understand him. His tone was the strangest blend of compassion and dismissal.

  I looked round for Barr. He’d already gone off to change into dry clothes. I saw him peering into Landon’s tent. Then he started to rummage among the pile of stores beside it. Landon sat down on the rug before the fire. His face, glowing in the orange light, had an extraordinary look of peace. I said, “We’d better find something to change into ourselves, Mollie,” and we joined Barr. He had shed his boiler-suit, and was transferring the contents of the pockets to a dark jacket and trousers. After a moment he went off into the shadows. I heard him pouring water for a drink. He obviously knew his way around the cavern as well as Landon himself.

  There was no shortage of spare clothes, and after we’d dried off on some towels that Mollie found among the kitchen things behind the tent, we re-equipped ourselves. Mollie fitted herself out with a pair of turned-up slacks and a heavy sweater, and I found a jersey and some curduroys. Then we joined Landon by the fire. The warmth in the alcove was wonderfully restoring. Landon made room for us, but he didn’t speak. He seemed to be completely lost in his thoughts. After a moment Barr reappeared and sat down on the other side of Landon.

  We made an extraordinary quartette. Landon looked like some wild hermit philosopher. Barr, at the far end of the rug, seemed remote and vaguely menacing. All of us had the appearance of survivors from some frightful cataclysm. The shadow of Clara‘s death hung over the place. Everything seemed utterly bizarre and unreal. Suddenly Barr began to talk to Landon in a tense and urgent tone. This time there was no pretence at all. He spoke as though Mollie and I weren’t there.

  “I know just what’s in your mind, Landon,” he said. “You’re thinking that things have changed between us, aren’t you, now that Clara’s dead? You’re thinking that I’ve no hold over you any longer, that you’re free. You’re right, of course, in a sense. You’re probably thinking that I’m stuck here now till the tunnel clears, and that then you’ll hand me over to the police, and that there’s nothing I can do about it. You’re probably right about that, too. I saw it all coming, the moment Clara died. I dare say you’re mentally totting up what I’ll get when I’m caught—and I don’t blame you. You’ve every reason to hate me, and it must be a satisfying exercise. I’ll get quite a stretch, especially if the sentences run consecutively.… Seven years for blackmail, I suppose—five more for conspiracy—not to mention perjury and theft.… That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

  Landon said nothing.

  “All the same, there’s another side to that picture, you know.” Barr’s voice had taken on a rougher edge.

  “You’re not exactly in the clear yourself. They’ll get you for conspiracy and theft, as well as me. And what a conspiracy! What a theft! You’ll get a pretty long stretch yourself. And that’s not all. You’ll be disgraced. You’ll be hounded by everyone. You’ll be finished, Landon. Your life will be over. Especially as everyone will know the truth about your dear daughter. You’re not going to enjoy that very much, are you? You’d be better dead, like Clara.”

  Landon stirred a little, but still he didn’t speak.

  “Of course,” Barr went on, “you could avoid all that if you wanted to. You could get clean away with everything. You realise that, don’t you …?” It seemed to me that his harsh tone held a hint of desperation now. “The whole country believes you were kidnapped. You could still pretend that you were. We could hide Clara’s body so that it wouldn’t be found. She’d simply have disappeared. We could tidy this place up so that everything looked genuine, the way we intended to. It’s your only hope, Landon. Yours and mine. Our interests are the same. Why rot in jail when we don’t have to? I could have the money—you could still have your work and your freedom.… Are you with me, Landon? Do you see what I’m driving at? All I need is co-operation.… Nobody knows anything about us except these two busybodies—and they’ve been delivered into our hands. The girl won’t give any trouble. I’ll do the dirty work. Between us, we can easily deal with Curtis. It’s the only way.”

  I’d already started up. So had Barr. I saw something glinting in his hand. It was a short, murderous-looking knife. I guessed he’d got it from Landon’s stores. The sight of it stopped me dead. Barr was holding it defensively and he made no move towards me. “Better sit down, Curtis,” he said. “You don’t want to argue with this before you have to.”

  I sank back on the rug, watching him. He subsided, too. Evidently he wasn’t sure enough of Landon to launch an attack. Mollie moved a little closer to me. I waited for Landon to speak. I felt far from confident. The man was a criminal—that was absolutely clear now. Everything was at stake for him. And this cavern would hide all secrets. If the two of them fell on me together, I wouldn’t have a chance. I stretched a hand out into the shadows, trying to find a piece of loose rock, but there wasn’t anything.

  Landon looked at Barr. Then he looked at me. His cheekbones were sharp in the light. His face was as pitiless as an executioner’s. The seconds dragged like hours.

  Suddenly the tension broke. “You must be out of your mind, Barr,” he said. “I’ve only one aim now—to see you punished. You can put that knife down—it won’t help you. If you give the slightest trouble, Curtis and I will join forces against you at once. Is that agreed, Curtis?”

  “It’ll be a pleasure!” I said. Beside me, Mollie gave a little sigh.

  Barr said, “You’re a fool, Landon, a stupid fool. You’ll live to regret this.” His tone was venomous. He’d missed all his chances, and he knew it. I felt sure, now, that he’d intended murder ever since Clara’s death. He had hoped to catch me off guard on the ledge. His outburst of frankness had been intended merely to disarm me. When that plan had failed he’d been driven back on this last desperate gamble. Now he’d used all his chips.… At least, I hoped he had. The morose silence into which he’d fallen certainly suggested it.

  One thing was quite clear—we weren’t going to get any more information out of him. I turned to Landon.

  “Look,” I said, “if we’re going to be allies, even temporarily, wouldn’t it be as well if you told us just what’s been happening?”

  He ran a hand wearily over his face. “It’s a long story, Curtis.”

  “We’re going to be here a long time,” I said.

  “Well…” He hesitated. “You must have picked up a good deal from what’s already been said.”

  “No more than an outline.… I gather you faked your own kidnapping for the sake of the ransom money, and that Barr and your daughter were involved in the plot… Is that right?”

  “Yes, that’s right.… But I didn’t want the money for myself. I had to get it for Barr.”

  “Because of this hold he had over you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was his hold?”

  There was a little pause. Then Landon said, “My daughter killed a man, and Barr knew about it.… She killed a man named Frank Angel.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I said incredulously, “Clara killed him?” I’d been prepared for more surprises, but this was staggering. Not even Lawson had thought of that!

  Landon said, “Yes—she shot him.”

  “Then all that evidence at the inquest …?”

  “It was all untrue. Clara was visiting Angel, not Barr. After the shooting Barr fixed up her story for her.… Until that evening she’d never met him.”

  It was fascinating. I said, “Landon, I do realise it must be hard for you to talk about it, particularly just now, but it’s all got to come out and we know so much already.… Won’t you tell us from the beginning?”

  He was silent for a moment. Then he gave a faint shrug. “I don’t mind telling you—in a way I think I’ll be glad to get it off my chest.…” He paused, as thou
gh collecting his thoughts. Then he said: “Angel was a man Clara had met at a party. She had an affair with him. He was completely worthless, like most of the men she knew, but he was very good looking and she was besotted with him. She wanted to marry him, and he’d promised they would marry. Then she discovered that he was being kept by an older woman and was perfectly content to go on being kept and hadn’t any intention of marrying her at all. She was furious. She wrote him an angry letter, and the next evening she went round to have it out with him. She’d had quite a lot to drink beforehand, which may have had something to do with what happened.… She took a revolver with her. I didn’t know she had a revolver, but apparently it had been given her by some army man who’d taken her out to practise shooting.… She told me afterwards that she took the gun merely to frighten Angel. I don’t know about that. Anyhow, there was a frightful quarrel and—according to Clara—a struggle, and the gun went off.”

  “It went off twice!” Barr put in. He seemed to have recovered his composure, and was following the story with malicious satisfaction.

  “It went off twice,” Landon agreed. “Angel fell dead. When Clara saw what she’d done she apparently became panic-stricken. She dropped the gun and rushed out of the flat into the mews.… There she almost collided with Barr, who lived in the flat next door. He’d heard the shots and he’d come down to investigate.…”

  Landon broke off, but only for a moment. Now that he’d started, he was clearly finding it a relief to talk. Presently he went on:

  “Barr stopped her and asked her what had happened. She was barely articulate. The door of Angel’s flat was still open, and he made her go back there with him. No one else seemed to be bothering about the shots—the occupants of the other two flats in the mews were apparently out for the evening.… Barr questioned Clara closely. Among other things he asked her who her parents were, and she told him about me, and where I worked. Barr was a professional blackmailer, and he saw possibilities in the situation. He said he was sure the shooting had been accidental, and that he might be able to help her. He wrapped the gun up carefully and put it in his pocket. He asked Clara if there was anything in the flat connecting her with Angel. There was only one thing she knew about—the letter she’d sent him the day before. Barr found that on the body and pocketed it. Otherwise there seemed to be nothing to suggest she’d known the man.…”