Presumed Dead (22 page)

He remembered how excited he’d been when
he’d heard the news, and how he and Alex had started scheming and plotting,
trying to figure out a way to commit the perfect murder. It had been Alex’s
idea that he should impersonate Alice, and once they had worked the details
out, he’d thrown himself into learning her mannerisms and copying the way she
walked.

And now, after all they had been through
together, all the time they had waited, all the plans they had made, Alex was
dead. Ross was beside himself with grief. He poured himself another large
brandy and sat cradling it between his hands as the tears rolled down his face.

.

Back in Chamonix, Philippe was being shown
into Batard’s office. When Batard had heard who was asking to see him, he very
nearly refused, but now, looking up as Philippe entered, he sensed a difference
in the man.

‘Good afternoon Monsieur Dulac,’ he said
courteously, standing to shake hands. ‘What can I do for you today.’

‘I just came to apologize for all the
trouble I caused you earlier in the week,’ Philippe said humbly. ‘I realize now
that you were right and that you were just doing your job.’

Batard was somewhat taken aback. ‘There is
no need to apologize Monsieur.’

‘Thank you,’ Philippe said, looking down at
the floor, ‘but I just wanted to make sure that you were still going to keep
looking for my wife.’

‘Of course we are,’ Batard assured him.
‘The file is still open and we have a good description of her, but I must be
honest, I don’t think we stand much chance of finding her now until the springtime.’

‘Maybe not,’ Philippe sighed, ‘but we must
keep on looking. She’s out there somewhere.’ He put his hand out to shake again
and said, ‘Well, I must go, thank you for seeing me.’

‘What are you going to do now?’ Batard
asked, taking his hand.

That’s the question I was waiting for,
Philippe thought. ‘I’m going back up onto the Charpoua of course.’

‘In this weather?’ Batard asked, looking
out of the window at the leaden sky and light drizzle.

‘The forecast says it will clear within the
next twenty-four hours. I want to be up there ready to start searching again as
soon as it is clear.’

‘Take care of yourself,’ Batard said as
Philippe left his office, ‘and good luck.’

A few minutes later across town at the
Montenvers rack railway station, Philippe parked his car, put his rucksack on
then walked to the ticket office. After buying his ticket, he went through the
barrier and joined the tourists waiting for the next train to take them up to
the Mer de Glace. He could see Alice at the far end of the platform wearing her
little walking backpack over the red coat they had borrowed from the Charpoua
Hut. She had the hood up for protection from the light rain and was standing in
among a group of Japanese tourists who had just been offloaded from a coach.

A bell rang in the distance as the level
crossing gates came down over the main road, then the bright red train appeared
out of the trees and pulled slowly into the station. After disgorging its
passengers onto the opposite platform, the doors opened on Philippe and Alice’s
side and there was a mad rush for seats as the Japanese stormed the two small
carriages. Unwilling to be caught up in the melee of flying elbows and cameras,
Philippe and Alice ended up standing at opposite ends of the train in separate
carriages.

The train finally pulled out of the
station, across the main road, then started climbing up the steep incline
through the dense pine forest that dominated the lower part of the valley. Each
time there was a break in the trees that offered a glimpse back down towards
Chamonix, now nestling in the distance like a model village, there was a mad
rush to the windows and a flurry of camera flashes.

When the train finally pulled into the
terminus overlooking the Mer de Glace, the weather was horrendous. There was a
strong wind blasting up the valley carrying with it snow and sleet. The
Japanese contingent, who were all woefully underdressed for the conditions,
made a beeline for the restaurant where there was another skirmish over the
seats. Alice let them go then disembarked and walked through the terminus and
out onto the concrete viewing platform which overlooked the glacier, now
invisible due to the driving snow. Turning right, she followed the path as it
started to descend toward the glacier, then when she was well out of sight of
the terminus, she stepped off the path and sheltered behind a large boulder to
wait for Philippe.

Ever since he’d dropped her off and she’d
walked along the road alone in the rain, she’d been thinking just how marvelous
he’d been since they had met. The care and gentleness he’d shown when she was
near to death up on the glacier, and later, these past few days, his ingenuity
and the way he’d kept his cool and saved her from going to pieces after that
horrific accident at the farm. She’d felt, back at the house before they had
left for England, that she was falling in love with him, and now she was
certain. She hoped and prayed that he felt the same way about her, and that
after this was all over he would want her to stay with him.

Her train of thought was broken as Philippe
walked past, not seeing her tucked behind the big rock. She called out to him,
and as he turned, he said, ‘There you are. I was beginning to wonder how much
further you would go.’

‘How did it go with Batard?’ she asked, as
he joined her behind the boulder, out of the wind.

‘Fine, he knows where I will be if he wants
me. Are you ready to go on? The sooner we get to the hut, the sooner we will be
out of this wind.’

Alice nodded, then fell into step behind
him as they made their way down the steep, treacherous path towards the sea of
ice. When they arrived at the point where the rock path ended and the ice
began, Philippe slipped his rucksack off and unpacked two pairs of goggles, two
pairs of crampons and two ice axes. They found a convenient rock to sit on,
then clipped the crampons to their boots. Next Philippe unpacked a short length
of rope and tied one end around his waist and the other around Alice’s.

Alice looked down on him while he tied the
knot. ‘Does this mean we’re engaged?’ she asked playfully.

Philippe looked up in surprise then smiled.
‘Come on, we’ve got a long way to go,’ he said, slipping his rucksack back on
and picking his ice axe up.

Pulling their goggles down over their eyes,
they stepped onto the hard, blue ice of the massive glacier. When they were
half way across, they turned right and started to follow the path that would
lead for three miles, straight up the center of the floe. At first the going
was relatively easy. They had the wind behind them and their crampons gripped
the slippery surface of the ice well, but after over an hour of trudging uphill
in the howling wind, Alice started to stumble.

Here and there on the glacier the effects
of wind, heat and water had carved massive séracs or pinnacles of ice. As they
approached one that was near the path, Philippe led the way to it and made her
rest in the shelter it provided. Crouching down in front of her he asked, ‘Are
you all right?’

Alice peered out from underneath her hood
and lifted her goggles, which were caked with snow. ‘I guess I’m not as strong
as I thought I was,’ she said bravely.

‘Are you cold or in pain?’ Philippe asked
with concern.

‘A little cold, but mainly just out of
breath,’ she replied. ‘Being battered by this wind really takes it out of you.
I’ll be okay in a minute.’

Philippe made her rest for ten minutes,
then asked, ‘Do you feel strong enough to go on? It won’t be long before we’re
off this glacier, then the path is more sheltered.’

She nodded gamely, replaced her goggles,
then followed as he led them back to the path and onwards up the glacier. Just
keep putting one foot in front of the other, she told herself,
left-right-left-right. With her head bowed and the wind tearing at her clothes
she followed Philippe doggedly, forcing herself to go on, one step at a time,
until finally they were off the ice and back onto solid ground. Philippe called
a rest and she gratefully sank onto a rock in the shelter of a small cliff. She
didn’t feel particularly tired, just weak and pounded after nearly two hours of
exposure to the howling gale on the open ice. She looked up to her left and
could see the snow covered path leading away steeply upwards, but fortunately,
it was on the lee side of a ridge, so at least there would be some shelter from
that awful wind.

They chatted a little, and when Philippe
was sure that she’d got her breath back, he led the way as they set off on the
last leg of their journey. Although the gradient was steeper, Alice found the
going much easier now they were out of the worst of the wind. They climbed
steadily for nearly an hour before Philippe stopped abruptly, just as they
rounded a bend in the path. Alice had had her head down, concentrating on
putting one foot in front of the other, and nearly walked straight into his
back. He reached for her hand and pulling her up next to him, pointed through
the growing gloom at what looked like a huge, polished biscuit tin tucked under
a massive slab of granite.

‘The Couvercle Hut,’ he announced.

As they carried on towards the hut, Alice
could see it was about eighteen feet square by ten feet tall, and was
completely covered in bright polished aluminum sheeting with a radio antenna
and a short, steel chimney protruding from the roof. It had been built on a
manmade stone plinth but positioned underneath a natural outcrop of rock for
protection. Whilst the side of the hut facing them was relatively sheltered
from the wind, the far side was more exposed and she could see it was taking a
pounding because of the flurries of snow that were billowing around the
structure.

It was after half past seven local time and
virtually dark before they finally reached the hut. They removed their crampons
outside then Philippe shot the bolts on the heavy door and they staggered into
the gloomy interior, gratefully shutting the weather out. They found a couple
of hurricane lamps and lit them, then while Philippe went to work on getting
the oil-fired stove alight, Alice had a look around.

She found it was a lot like the other hut
on the Charpoua Glacier, but this one was bigger and had more than one room. In
the main room, there was a wooden table and chairs, and eight bunks fixed to
the two end walls. A two-way radio was mounted on a small wooden shelf, with
wires leading down to a car battery that sat on the floor below. In another
small room, there was a single toilet and a trough to wash in, complete with
cold water supplied from an insulated tank high up on the wall. Finally, there
was a small kitchen complete with a double gas ring fed from a cylinder,
cooking utensils, a good supply of bottled water and hundreds of packets of
dehydrated food.

Finishing her tour of inspection, Alice
walked back into the main room and announced, ‘This is a regular home from
home!’

Philippe had managed to light the stove and
the well insulated room was starting to feel warmer already. ‘It’s not bad, is
it?’ he said. ‘Why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I make us a hot
drink?’

Alice took her jacket and boots off, then
dragged a mattress and blanket from one of the bunks and threw it down in front
of the old stove. When Philippe came out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs
of hot chocolate, he found her sitting cross-legged on the mattress in front of
the stove with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, soaking up the heat.

‘You look comfortable,’ he said, smiling
down at her.

She patted the mattress next to her and
said, ‘Take your jacket off and join me, I’ve saved you a place.’ Philippe
handed the mugs to her then slipped out of his jacket and sank down beside her,
pulling the blanket around his shoulders too. She gave him his mug then cupped
her own gratefully in both hands, taking a sip. ‘This is wonderful,’ she said
dreamily, ‘thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he replied, smiling at
the fuss she was making over a simple cup of hot chocolate.

They spent the next ten minutes sitting
side by side under the blanket in the flickering light of the hurricane lamp,
enjoying their drinks and listening to the wind howl around the hut, each lost
in their own thoughts. The growing warmth, their closeness and the feeling that
they were the only two humans alive on the mountain, seemed to slowly generate
an electrical charge between them that they could both feel.

Finally, Philippe said awkwardly, ‘I’ve put
some water on to boil so we can have some dinner soon. Are you hungry?’

‘Are you kidding?’ Alice asked with mock
surprise, feeling just as awkward, ‘I’m half starved after that climb.’

‘Me too, I’d better get on with it,’ he
said, getting to his feet and escaping to the kitchen.

Alice followed a few seconds behind him
carrying a hurricane lamp. ‘Before you start cooking, could you spare a little
of that hot water?’ she asked. ‘I’d like to freshen up before dinner.’

Philippe took a large saucepan down from
the shelf and half filled it with boiling water. ‘Is that enough?’ he asked.

‘Plenty, thank you,’ she said, taking the
pan and disappearing into the washroom.