01 Storm Peak Read Online Free PDF Page A

his watch.
    “Shuttle bus’ll be picking up outside the Harbor in a few minutes,” he said. “You’ve got work to do.”
    She sighed and sank back. “That’s true.” Adding, a moment later, “I hate this kind of case, Jess. Don’t know how you stood it down in Denver.”
    He looked at her, a little puzzled. “This kind of case, Lee? What other kind is there?”
    “Oh … you know,” she gestured vaguely. “A guy holds up a convenience store and takes off for the high country. That sort of case. I know what I’m doing, where I’m going, who I’m after. I just head out after whoever it is, catch him and bring him back.”
    “Just like that,” Jesse interrupted, smiling slightly.
    But Lee didn’t pick up on the irony. “That’s right. It’s black and white. You’ve got a reason, a crime and a motive. It’s straightforward. Not like this.” She gestured with her thumb in the vague direction of the morgue and Alexander Howell’s body.
    “There’s always a reason, Lee,” Jesse said gently. “You’ve just got to find it, that’s all.”

FIVE
    T he first killing had been almost too easy.
    He wondered how long it would take the local cops to catch on to the hint he’d left. Wondered if they would be bright enough to realize that the body’s hand simply couldn’t have jammed in the hatch accidentally. It was all part of the game he’d begun to play with them. All part of focusing their attention. Well, the next one should do just that, he thought. Because the next one would be different. The next one would be a total puzzle.
    That is, if tonight’s experiment proved successful.
    He’d had to wait ten minutes for an opportunity to board the gondola without anyone else being around. But he was prepared to be patient. Patience, in fact, was going to be essential to his task as the next few weeks unfolded. He was going to have to wait for the right conditions every time. And he was prepared to do so.
    As the cabin slid quickly down the mountain from Thunderhead, he noticed with some satisfaction that the inside light, combined with the misting of the windows and the darkness outside, made the other cabins nothing but vague blurs. So far so good. Working quickly but with no undue haste, he slipped off the rucksack and began to unpack his equipment. The seventy-foot coil of rope came first. He knotted it securely to the chest harness that he was already wearing under the long-line parka.
    Next, he took the lever jack that he’d built himself in his workshop back home. He fitted the two ends into the rubber seal of the gondola doors and wrenched the lever suddenly. With the mechanical advantage of the lever system, the doors were thrust open about two feet — sufficient to give him egress.
    There was a length of two-by-two pine in the rucksack. He found it and jammed it between the doors to keep them open. The lever jack, released, went back in his rucksack. Then, standing in the open doorway, he reached up to the roof of the car, passing the free end of the rope through the rail that ran around the top edge. He formed the rope into a loop over itself, inserted it into the abseiling loop on his harness and dropped it clear into the night below. He glanced at his watch. Just under two minutes. Plenty of time. He shouldered the rucksack again, then retrieved his skis from the racks on the outside of the door. They were fastened together and a looped strap went quickly over his shoulder, where he could discard it in a matter of seconds. He slipped an abseiling glove onto his right hand and, holding the rail above the doorway, stepped out to hang outside the cabin, his feet resting on a small ledge at the base of the gondola. He took up the tension on the rope, jamming his right hand into his side to lock it for a few seconds, then released his left-handed grip on the railing. He balanced there, supported by the rope, his feet braced against the cabin. He raised his right foot and kicked one end of the