Graef and Thoms stopped abruptly just ahead. Mallory tensed and lifted the gun. Then he saw that they were staring at the trail. Filling tracks showed in the fresh snow. One set were of wide, splayed shoes; the others smaller and neater. Blalock and Denise, Mallory thought.
Graef said, “They can’t be far ahead, Mallory.”
Mallory judged how much snow had fallen to half-fill the tracks. “Ten minutes,” he said. “All right, move on. The lookout can’t be far now. No more than a half-mile.”
Graef said musingly, “I wonder what she offered him in exchange for part of his money?”
Mallory said only, “Walk faster before you freeze your feet in those city shoes.”
The lookout was not far from the next bend. Mallory could see it dimly through the ragged white curtain of the falling snow. It stood on a knoll of rock, a square building, old and out of date now.
“See, Graef,” he said. “I’ve got a remarkable memory too.”
Graef was peering forward. “Aren’t those footprints on the steps leading up to that place?”
Mallory could see the tracks now. Blalock and Denise had gone to the lookout, to seek refuge from the storm. He hadn’t expected quite so much luck. Their being here meant that he could take all the time needed for a good rest instead of stopping only briefly and then pushing on again.
“It saves us a lot of trouble,” Graef said.
“It saves you no trouble at all,” Mallory told him. “You just get a few more hours respite before I turn you over to the police.”
Graef started slowly after Thoms, up steps chopped out of stone. He paused and looked back at Mallory. “Turning us over to the police won’t get your lady friend out of trouble. It won’t even get you out of trouble.”
Mallory said, “Save your breath for climbing. It’s a long, slick way up.”
The surface of the steps was rough and uneven under the coating of snow. Mallory walked some distance behind Graef and Thoms, ready to move aside if one of them should slip, or pretend to. But Thoms seemed tireless, and he ground his way steadily upward, making a trail with his big feet. Graef followed him wearily.
The last steps were the way the entrance to hell would be, Mallory thought. They were made of wood and were slicker than the stone ones. Thoms was on his hands and knees now. Mallory and Graef crawled slowly after him.
Thoms was a dozen feet in the lead. Mallory heard him shout and he looked up to see Blalock standing on a platform at the top of the steps. Blalock had a piece of stove wood and he was waving it, threatening Thoms.
Mallory grasped the wooden handrail of the steps and pulled himself laboriously to his feet. He shouted, “Let him by, Blalock! His hands are bound.”
Blalock’s scarred features were twisted with weariness and fear. Mallory could see his pinkish little lips flutter with his breathing. He cried, “Get back, all of you! This is our place!”
Mallory said, “Thoms and Graef are tied. And I have the gun.”
Graef said softly, “Shoot him, Mallory, before we all freeze to death.”
Mallory could feel his arm muscles shake with the strain of holding to the slippery railing. Graef was nearly right about their freezing, he thought. They were all close to exhaustion and soaked by the wet snow. The conditions were ripe for pneumonia.
Mallory said, “Move aside, Graef. Let me go up there.”
Blalock stood just under the eave of the roof of the building. Mallory could see bits of fir needle and bark and droppings from numerous small animals littering the protected part of the platform. He could see where cedar shake shingles had been wind-torn away from the roof. The place was not just closed for the winter, he realized; it had been abandoned. That could mean there was no stove inside. But Blalock held a stick of firewood, and it looked fairly clean, as if it had been cut within recent years.
Mallory said, “Is there a fire inside, Blalock?”
“Mrs. Lawton is building one,” Blalock said.
Graef said, “Shoot him, Mallory. Why waste time talking to a madman?”
Mallory said, “My way isn’t your way, Graef.” He pulled himself up slowly, keeping one hand free to hold the gun.
Blalock stepped from the shelter and waved the stovewood at Mallory. “You keep back too!” he shrieked.
Thoms was on his knees, just out of Blalock’s range. He looked over at Mallory, almost level with him now. “You let Miles get cold, I’ll kill you,” he said.
Mallory said, “We’ll all be warm in a minute.” He moved up another step. Blalock stepped along the platform to intercept him. Mallory spoke to Thoms. “Go on up now.”
Blalock turned and took a step back toward Thoms. Mallory moved up another riser. Blalock hesitated and went toward him. Thoms immediately went forward. Blalock turned. His face twisted up.
“You’re outmaneuvered,” Mallory said.
Blalock half ran toward him. His foot slipped on the snow-covered part of the porch. He screamed wildly and clutched at the air. He lost his balance and fell heavily on his back; he lay gasping.
Mallory stepped to the porch and took the stovewood away from Blalock. He said, “All right, Thoms. Go on inside.”
He watched as Thoms moved clumsily, still having to hold his trousers with his bound hands. Graef crawled after Thoms. Mallory stepped around Blalock and pushed the heavy wooden door open. A gush of musty air tainted with the sharp odor of a rodent den rushed out at them.
“Gawd!” Thoms gasped.
“It’s better than freezing,” Graef said. “And there’s a fire, thanks to Mrs. Lawton.”
Mallory couldn’t see Denise from where he stood. He waited until Thoms and Graef had gone inside. Then he helped Blalock to his feet. Blalock’s skin had the pasty color of congealed fat.
Mallory said, “Get inside.”
Blalock stumbled through the door. Mallory followed. He pushed the door shut. As a lock, it had a heavy wooden bar that dropped into metal U-brackets. Mallory lowered the bar into place.
The building had only one room. In two places the shingles were gone and snow sifted down to the littered floor. All of the windows but two were shattered and boarded over with plywood sheeting. There was little light except from the potbellied tin stove near where Denise stood.
Graef and Thoms had moved toward the stove. Denise was on the far side of it, stuffing wood onto a leaping fire. Mallory surveyed the rust-streaked stovepipe that made an elbow just below the ceiling. It looked solid enough, he decided. He turned his attention to Denise.
She looked weary but fresher than any of them. Her hair was a tangle of bronze and more drab than he remembered it, but her cheeks still had color and there was life in her eyes. She looked carefully away from Mallory.
Mallory said, “Don’t put any more wood on. You’ll just waste it with that kind of stove.”
Denise dropped her last piece of wood back onto a small scattered pile on the floor. She put the lid on the stove with a quick motion, then held out her hands to the heating metal.
Just the sound of the fire was enough to give the illusion of warmth, Mallory thought. He stood just inside the door, watching the three men. They were close together, near the heat.
Graef said, “Untie our hands, Mallory, so we can warm them better.”
“No!” Blalock said vehemently. “No, please!”
Mallory said, “All right.” He beckoned to Graef. The man walked slowly toward him. His mud-and-ice eyes revealed nothing as they met Mallory’s gaze. He wore his smile; it was still without meaning.
Mallory loosened the binding around his wrists. “You can untie Thoms,” he said. “Then both of you get your shoes and socks off.”
Blalock said, “They’ll hurt us!”
Mallory said, “I have the gun.”
“What’s a gun against a man like Graef?” Blalock answered.
Mallory looked into the blue eyes and saw that they were bright and clear. Mallory said, “Ask Graef what a gun means.”
Graef
smiled. He finished untying Thoms and then went to a bench built against the side wall. He hoisted himself onto it and began to remove his shoes and socks. Thoms joined him.
Mallory waited until both men had their feet bare. Then he said, “Blalock, get their shoes and socks and put them closer to the stove. And take that briefcase away from Thoms.”
Blalock looked at him a long moment. Mallory saw understanding spring into the lumpish face. Blalock picked up the shoes and socks and carried them to the far side of the stove. He appropriated the briefcase and set it to one side.
Mallory said, “After they’re dry, Graef, I’ll take charge of them. Neither of you will be going far barefoot.”
“You bastard!” Thoms said.
“Not at all,” Graef said. “Mallory is being exceedingly clever.” He paused and smiled at Mallory. “Of course, he has forgotten one important factor.”
Mallory moved closer to the stove and sat down. He took out a cigarette and lit it. He saw Denise watching him. She looked quickly away as his eyes moved toward her.
He said, “What factor have I forgotten, Graef?”
“That you’re in no better spot than we are, Mallory. Do you think the police will really believe you’re an innocent victim of circumstances?”
“Why shouldn’t they?” Mallory said. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You disappeared with forty thousand dollars worth of securities,” Graef said in his soft voice. “And you helped us take Blalock into these mountains.”
“At the point of a gun,” Mallory said.
Graef ignored him. “And you had a chance to tip off a state patrolman, yet you made no attempt to do so. He’ll remember that.”
Mallory said, “Mrs. Lawton is my witness. You’re wasting your time, Graef.”
Graef shook his head. He swung his dangling bare feet. “Not at all,” he said. “Mrs. Lawton really isn’t a very good witness. First, there’s the question of whether she’ll testify at all. If she does, it means exposing her whereabouts to her husband and risking her life. Secondly, she has criminal connections—by marriage, at least. Thirdly, she didn’t hesitate to run away with Blalock and a hundred thousand dollars. It’s just possible, Mallory, that the police won’t care to accept a story from a woman like her—even if she agrees to tell it.”
Mallory said, “You’re having fun with words, Graef.” He glanced at Denise. She was looking at the floor. Her cheeks were flushed pinker than the heat from the stove could account for.
Graef said, “Furthermore, Mallory, Nick and I are willing to swear that you helped us without being coerced. That you agreed to help us if we’d give you a hand in getting away with the securities. Isn’t that right, Nick?”
“Anything you say, Miles,” Thoms answered.
Mallory wanted to laugh. But somehow he couldn’t get the sound out of his throat.
Chapter XVIII
THE snow began to let up at dusk. Mallory stood at the window nearest the stove and watched the flakes thin out and then disappear altogether. A light rain began to spatter the window.
“Chinook wind coming up,” Mallory said. “The snow won’t last long now.”
From across the room, Graef said in his bland voice, “So soon you can start herding your prisoners back to civilization. Is that what you’re thinking, Mallory?”
Mallory stood for a moment watching the rain grow heavier. The snow on the stone steps began to sag, and he could see rivulets of water running from under it.
“That’s right,” he said. “We’ll be able to leave in a few hours.”
“You still don’t believe what I said, eh, Mallory?”
Mallory glanced at Graef. He was seated in the gloom, his back to the wall. Thoms sat beside him. Both men were still barefooted. Both had their wrists bound again. Mallory had agreed to keep them tied on Blalock’s urging.
Mallory said, “I’ve got other things to worry about.”
He turned back to the window. It was growing dusky. He could hear Blalock stirring in sleep. He was stretched out between the stove and the door. Denise was asleep too, curled behind the stove like a kitten. Mallory wondered if her only defense would be continued silence. He hadn’t thought much about her throughout the day; he hadn’t let himself. He’d kept busy stoking the stove and preparing meals. Then with Graef and Thoms’ shoes beside him and the gun in his hand, he’d stretched out on the long counter and managed a few quick naps.
He was still tired but his leg felt better than it had since Graef shot him. The day’s rest had done it good, he thought. That and the steady warmth from the little stove. He considered the distance yet to travel. A two-hour hike at a fair pace would see them down to the state highway that ran along the shore of the Strait. Once there, it should be easy to find a place with a telephone, he thought.
He became aware that it had grown dark inside the room. He heard someone stirring. He turned and saw Denise uncurling herself. She sat up, making a blur of movement as she stretched. She rose quietly and walked to the pan Mallory had filled with snow and left on the stove. She poured out some of the water and rubbed it over her face. She walked toward Mallory, patting her face with a handkerchief.
She stood by him silently. She said softly, “I’m sorry, Cliff. I didn’t know what else to do. When I had a chance to get away from Graef, I took it.”
“And hooked up with Blalock?”
She had her face turned up to his. He could see the anxiety in her expression. “I know what you’re thinking, but it isn’t true.”
“What isn’t true—that you were going with Blalock because he had a hundred thousand dollars?”
He saw her shudder. “Would I—with him?”
“It’s a lot of money,” Mallory said. “It might buy you freedom from your husband.”
“I thought of it,” she admitted. She touched Mallory’s arm with her fingers. He made no response. “But not right away, Cliff. Only after I’d talked myself into believing you’d gone back—for the police. Then there was no one else but Blalock.”
“Then I showed up,” Mallory said.
She said, “Yes, then you showed up with them.”
“And you’ve had to change your plans again?”
“Don’t be brutal, Cliff, please!”
Mallory felt her fingers tighten on his arm. He was aware that she had moved closer to him. Her side touched his. Her softness and warmth stirred him inside.
He said, “What are you going to do now?”
“What can I do?” she demanded. “You’re going to turn them all over to the police, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“And where does that leave me?”
“I don’t know,” Mallory said honestly.
She said angrily, “By tomorrow, our pictures will be in papers all over the country, I suppose. How long do you think it will take Rick or his men to catch up with me once that happens?”
Mallory said, “You can ask the police for protection. You can ask them to keep you out of all this.”
“Don’t be naïve, Cliff. You know what newspapermen are!”
Mallory said, “I can’t solve your problem, Denise. Graef was right. I should have tried to tip off that state patrolman. I didn’t and I may be in for some trouble myself.”
“You didn’t—because of me, of course?”
“Mostly,” he said.
Denise moved away from him. “Give me a cigarette.”
Mallory gave her a cigarette and took one for himself. He struck a match and cupped the flame toward her. She looked at him over the flare of light. Her eyes were bleak. She inhaled deeply. Mallory lighted his cigarette and blew out the match.
Denise said, “I could do what Graef said I would, Cliff.”
“And not be a witness for me?”
“That’s right.”
“But why should you?” he demanded. “What are you going to gain?”
“Nothing,” she admitted. Her voice faltered and then grew stronger.
“But if you don’t give me a chance to get away, it’s what I will do.”
Mallory said, “In other words, if I don’t keep you completely out of this, you’ll try to give me trouble.”
“Yes, that’s about it.”
He looked down at her. He said slowly, “Just what would you do if I did give you a chance to get away?”
Her voice shook a little. “I’ve been thinking about that, Cliff.” She touched him again and moved closer to him. Her voice dropped lower and quickened.
“I think I know where Blalock hid the money. It isn’t in the room, you know. He took the box with him when he went out for wood. He came back without it.”
“I’d noticed it wasn’t inside,” Mallory said.
She said, “If we find it, Cliff, we can take it and go.”
“And leave them all here, you mean?”
“That’s right, darling. Don’t you see? A hundred and forty thousand dollars, with the bonds. Just for the taking. Over twenty years of your salary. There are places in the world where we could live well on that much the rest of our lives. We could even invest part of it and make more.”
Mallory dropped his cigarette and ground out the spark with the toe of his boot. “I told you before that kind of money isn’t my kind.”
“Oh, God, Cliff, don’t be such a fool.” Her hand moved, touching him more intimately. “Can’t you understand? I think back to—to us together, in the motel and in the tent, and I don’t want to let you go. Not ever!”
Mallory said harshly, “We could go where you wouldn’t have to worry about Rick, isn’t that what you mean? I could help you get away from him.”
“Cliff, that isn’t fair! What do I have to do to show you that I love you?”
Her fingers squeezed convulsively into his flesh. Mallory felt the surge of wanting her. He saw her cigarette drop to the floor and shower sparks and then disappear under her foot. Her arms lifted, sliding about his neck. Her body pressed against his, her loins thrusting.
“Now,” she whispered. “Now, here, in the dark, darling. Please.”
Her weight was drawing him down to the deep shadow beneath the bench. He heard someone in the room cough but the sound had no meaning. He felt himself drowning in the darkness and in the scent of Denise. He felt the curve of her breasts under his hands.
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