'What are you going to do to her?' Engles asked as he made for the door.
He turned in the doorway and smiled. 'Make love to her,' he said. And we heard his boots on the boards outside and then on the stairs. There was a crash of a door being kicked open and then a scream that was instantly stifled. It became a moaning sound that was gradually lost in the noise of the wind.
'Mein Gott! He has killed her,' Keramikos said.
We stood listening. Whatever a woman may be, it is not pleasant to hear her scream with pain and to think that she has been killed without any attempt being made to prevent it. I felt suddenly very sick. That scream and Valdini's body lying there like a stuck pig in his own blood — it was too much. Footsteps sounded on the stairs again. Mayne was coming back. He entered the room and stopped as he saw that none of us had moved. 'What's the matter with you people?' he asked. He had put his gun away and seemed almost cheerful.
'Have you killed her?' Engles asked.
'Good God, no! Just tied her up, that's all. She couldn't find another gun in Valdini's room.' He nodded at the body. 'Engles! Will you and Blair remove that. Keramikos — you come with me.'
Valdini's body was not heavy. We opened the window by the bar and pitched it out. There was a deep drift and Valdini sank into it as though it were a feather bed. I leaned out of the window and looked down at him. He was sprawled on his back, his clothes very bright against the white background of the snow and the blood from his mouth making a red stain round his head. He looked like a rag doll with a ridiculous scarlet hat set at a jaunty angle on his head. Then the snow began to drift across him and his body became indistinct. The wind was very cold on my face and rapidly crusted my head with driven snow. I stepped back and closed the window. Engles was standing over Aldo. The Italian was on his knees, swabbing up the blood with a bar cloth. 'I think I need a drink,' I said.
'Pour me one, will you?' He came over to the bar. 'Must be near lunch time.'
I glanced at the cuckoo clock, which was still ticking away merrily as though nothing had happened. It was twelve-thirty. 'I have never felt less like food,' I said.
'Good God! You've seen worse than this,' he said as he took the drink I handed him.
'I know,' I said. 'But that was war. I suppose one gets used to the idea of death during one's battle training. But killing a margin cold blood, that's different. I thought he was going to shoot her.'
'Don't worry — he will. And he'll shoot us, too, if we don't do something about it.' He raised his glass. 'Cheers!' he said. He was quite cool. 'It's a funny thing,' he said, 'the effect that gold or jewels, or any form of concentrated wealth, has on men. Take our friend Stelben; he slaughtered nine men, as casually as you or I would cut a film script. It's the same with Mayne. Already he's killed three men and caused another to commit suicide. That's the straightforward killer for you — the gangster, the man who kills without thought or feeling. He's, a pretty dull fellow really, no emotions. It's only what he does that's exciting.'
'Why the devil did you want to get involved in this business?' I said.
He gave me a quick glance. 'Yes, I was afraid you'd ask that sooner or later.' He hesitated. 'You know, I've been wondering about it myself during the past few minutes. Pride, I suppose, and my insatiable desire for excitement. I had a good record as an Intelligence officer, you know. I didn't fall down on many things. But I did fall down on the matter of Stelben and his gold. And when I read of his arrest and how he had become the owner of Col da Varda, something told me the scent was hot again. I just had to do something about it. And then, when you sent me that photograph, I knew I was right. I recognised Mayne and I thought I recognised Keramikos. I just had to come over and see what was going on. But when I talked this morning about stoking up the fires, it never occurred to me that things would move so swiftly.' He patted me on the shoulder. 'Sorry!' he added. 'I didn't mean to land you in a mess like this. Make no mistake about it, Neil — we're in a pretty tight spot.'
'Well, let's get out of it,' I said.
'How?'
'Surely we could make Tre Croci on skis?'
'Yes, on skis. But Mayne is no fool. He will have thought of that, and of the snow-shoes. However, let's investigate.'
He was quite right. Mayne was standing by the open door of the ski room and the clatter of skis told us that he had Keramikos at work tying them up. 'Disposed of the body?' he asked. 'Then come and give a hand with these.' He kept well clear of us as we entered the little room and his eyes were watchful. There were several pairs of skis there besides our own. We tied them in bundles of three and then he had us carry them out on to the belvedere.
Mayne directed us to the concrete machine-room at the top of the slittovia. The snow was very deep, in places over our knees. He unlocked the door for us and we filed in, glad to get out of that biting, snow-laden wind. The place felt chill and damp, and it had that musty smell that all unused concrete buildings have. The machinery was covered with a grey film of concrete dust so that it looked old and disused. But it was well oiled. The snow clung like a white veil to the windows, which were heavily barred. The wind whistled through the slit by which the cable entered. I glanced at the opposite wall. That was where Stelben had shot down those German soldiers, according to the statement of Korporal Holtz. But there were no bullet marks. The concrete presented a smooth, grey, uninteresting front. Engles must have noticed my interest, for he whispered, 'Looks as though Stelben had that re-cemented.'
We stacked the skis and the two pairs of snow-shoes in the corner by the switchboard. Then we went out into the snow again and Mayne locked the door. We fought our way back in the teeth of the wind to the belvedere. Mayne paused at the entrance to the hut. 'We'll start work this afternoon,' he said. 'In the meantime, I'd be glad if you'd stick around the bar as far as possible, so that I can keep an eye on you.'
We went in then. The big room seemed warm. We shook the snow off our clothes and it melted in pools on the floor. Joe was at the bar. 'Where the hell have you all been?' he asked us. 'And what's the matter with Aldo? He's even more stupid than usual. He's broken two glasses and fumbled a bottle of cognac.' Anna was laying the table. She gave us a scared look. The colour had drained out of her face and it no longer looked bright and cheerful. Joe ordered drinks and produced several rolls of film. 'Some skiing shots,' he grunted as we moved over to the bar. 'Gives you some idea of the possibilities of the place.' He handed them to Engles.
'Where have you been doing your developing?' Engles asked.
'Out at the back, in the scullery,' he said. 'Cold as charity. But it's got running water.'
Apparently he had heard nothing. Engles began running through the negatives. Mayne stood apart from us. It was strange, standing there drinking with someone who had heard nothing and was completely unaware that anything out of the ordinary had happened.
Engles suddenly stopped half-way through the second roll of film. 'What's this shot, Joe?' he asked.
Joe leaned over and glanced at the celluloid. 'Oh, that's a picture I took the night we arrived. Good moonlight shot. Went out and took it from the trees at the edge of the slittovia. Good spooky stuff, isn't it?'
'Ye-es — it is.' Engles was peering at it closely. 'What's he doing?' He pointed to one of the negatives with his finger.
Joe looked at it over his shoulder. 'Dunno,' he said. 'Seemed to be measuring something. Gives a bit of action to it. Matter of fact, that was why I went out.
ITS Wanted to get somebody moving around the place to give it a little life.'
'Did he know you were taking pictures?'
'Good Lord, no! Would have spoilt it. He wouldn't have moved naturally.'
'Good point.' Engles passed the film across to me. 'Nice shot there, Neil. Might give you an idea or two. Ought to have a moonlight episode in the script. Film very effectively.'