This realization brought horror to his soul, such that he could see no chance of hope. Even apologies would be hollow and worthless.
He looked around for a moment, trying to work out what to do next, but there was nothing. How could he live the rest of his life like this, knowing full well that in the end he would face the consequences of his wrongdoing? He tried to motivate himself, to think of revenge and of home and of Angelica Graft, but suddenly none of these things gave him any gratification, not anymore. It was all hopeless, all a waste, all just a way of delaying the inevitable moment of judgment. He could not laugh at this, nor could he smile.
And then he remembered the woman on the cart.
He’d tried to thaw her nether region, so that he could have his way with her. At the time, the endeavor had felt exciting, like an opportunity he couldn’t possibly pass up. He remembered the unbearable lust that had filled his body, and the complete lack of concern he’d felt as he’d tried to mount his target. Now the whole thing seemed impossible, and he couldn’t quite believe that he’d been so monstrous. He’d even laughed, before, whereas now he wept, and he knew deep down that no amount of repentance would ever suffice. He had been that kind of man, all his life.
Finally, he realized that there was only one thing he could do.
On unsteady legs that threatened to betray him at any moment, he somehow staggered back toward the cabin. He felt no fear now, for he felt no hope either, and the two went together. Fear without hope was merely certainty. He had meant to find a rope, but then he spotted the chain hanging from the front of Garrett’s cart and he supposed that this would do just as well. He loosened the chain, and then he dragged it back across the clearing until he reached one of the larger trees that marked the start of the forest.
And then he began to climb.
The chain was heavy, heavy enough to slow him, but not heavy enough to stop him. He climbed carefully and methodically, performing his actions almost in an automatic manner. There was no emotion in him at all, save for a haunted understanding that he had misunderstood the entirety of existence so very badly. Having never been a smart man, or at least having never considered himself to be smart, he barely felt like Stuart Munver anymore. He just wanted to get things over with, and to begin his punishment as soon as possible. How could he live otherwise?
Once he was up in the tree, he began to loop the chain around one of the branches, and soon he had constructed a crude noose. He had never made a noose before, so he did not know whether this one would work, but he supposed it would do the job sooner or later so he carefully slipped the chain around his neck. Then he looked toward the cabin one more time and thought of Garrett’s mocking laughter, but he was relieved that all he heard was the faint rustle of snow falling all around.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
And then, with no further ado, he threw himself off the branch.
Eighteen
Today
“It’s odd,” Catherine Chandler said as the corpse was slowly lowered from the tree, “but the way the chain’s constructed, I don’t think it would have broken his neck.”
“What happened, then?” Levant asked, watching the gruesome sight as the surprisingly well-preserved body was carefully set down on the ground. “Did he just hang there and wait to die?”
Chandler grimaced for a moment.
“Well,” she muttered, “you said it, not me.”
They stood for a moment in silent contemplation of the man’s awful fate. If the makeshift noose hadn’t snapped his neck, he would have endured a long, painful death up there. Perhaps he could have freed himself, but evidently he had not done so; perhaps there had been no way, or perhaps he had been resigned to his fate. Either way, the idea of a man starving to death, dangling from a tree, filled both Chandler and her professor with a sense of dread, and neither of them really knew what to say next.
“He was an ugly bugger, wasn’t he?” Levant continued finally, tilting his head to get a better view of the corpse’s features. “Is that something else, or was his face bloodied around the nose when he died?”
“It looks that way,” Chandler replied, “but I won’t know for certain until I’ve carried out a proper examination.” She stared at the body for a moment longer, before turning to Levant. “So does this do anything to dent your theory about the site?”
“About the robbery gone wrong, you mean?” Levant asked. “It was only a working theory, but yes, I still think it’s rather likely. I might have some of the details a little wrong, but the overall idea is almost certainly in the correct ballpark. This fellow, for example, looks to have been hauled up like a common criminal, using this rather makeshift contraption. That tells us something.”
Chandler crouched down and took a closer look at the dead man’s face. She knew – from all the lectures she’d attended over the years in Doctor Levant’s class, and from all the seminars and books – that she had to stay focused on what was right in front of her. She had to work methodically. At the same time, something in her gut was telling her that Levant’s version of events didn’t sit quite right, as if deep down she somehow knew that there was more to what had happened at the site.
Suddenly a beeping sound rang out, and Levant muttered something as he reached into his jacket pocket and took out his cellphone. He looked at the screen for a moment, and then he answered.
“I’m still there,” he said, sounding a little irritated. “I’ll be going back to the hotel shortly.”
He listened, and then he furrowed his brow.
“Margaret, I can barely hear you,” he continued, “the reception out here is lousy. I’ll call you from the hotel.”
He listened again.
“I didn’t make any of that out,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll call you from the hotel, okay? From. The. Hotel.”
With that, he cut the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
“Keep me posted,” he said to Chandler, before turning and walking away. “I shall be very interested to hear about any discoveries you make here, Ms. Chandler. I might even be willing to help you out a little. So much so, I intend to stay at the hotel for another night, so as to make myself useful. You should be very pleased to have my expertise available. This should be a real boon for you.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, but in truth she was lost in thought.
Reaching out, she almost touched the dead man’s broken nose, but at the last moment she held back. Instead, she stared for a moment at a face that looked to have been beaten and bloodied some time before he died. At the same time, there was something almost noble about his expression, and Chandler found herself wondering what kind of person would end up hanging from a tree, all alone out in the middle of nowhere? At that particular moment, she didn’t even know his name.
“Who were you?” she whispered. “How did you end up like this?”
Nineteen
“I found a finger,” Chad Clark said a few minutes later, holding up a small piece of bone that he’d discovered near the rear of the cart. “Or part of one, anyway. Doctor Levant, do you think it just fell off and rolled away?”
Levant, who’d been on his way back to his car but who’d stopped to take another look at the bones on the cart, squinted as he saw the piece of bone in Clark’s hands. He didn’t really want to get involved in the nitty-gritty of the case, but he had to admit that a solitary displaced finger piqued his interest.