The Madman Theory Read Online Free PDF

GROVE RANGER STATION, a log cabin half-hidden under four tall cedars. Buck James pounded on the door, Retwig at his shoulder. Almost immediately a light sprang up inside. The door opened; a sleepy young man looked out. “Somebody got troubles?”
    Retwig spoke in his careful voice. “One of our party was shot and killed from ambush a few miles past Persimmon Lake.”

3
    Inspector Omar Collins, standing in the same cabin at ten o’clock the following morning, heard the essential circumstances of the case, mostly in Myron Retwig’s dry monotone. He asked only a few questions: “The shot was fired from the trees—not, say, from the mountainside?”
    â€œDefinitely,” said Retwig.
    â€œThen where did the killer escape to?”
    â€œThe trees continue along the trail for—actually, I don’t know how far. The forest is rather thick; he could have run north a hundred yards or so and returned to the trail without our knowledge.”
    â€œHe certainly didn’t go down the mountain,” said Buck James. “It’s practically sheer rock.”
    â€œYou were closest to him?” Inspector Collins asked Retwig.
    â€œI was, as I recall, about ten feet behind him. The others were strung out behind me. I’m not sure in what order.”
    â€œI was behind you,” said Bob Vega. “Then Red, and Buck was last.”
    â€œAnd none of you caught any glimpse of the murderer?” He received a general negative response. Collins turned to Ranger Superintendent Phelps. “What steps have you taken so far?”
    â€œThe obvious ones. I’ve alerted the fire lookouts by radio. I’ve ordered a watch on the trails, and everyone coming down from the mountains, especially men by themselves, will be asked for identification and questioned. The park exits will be watched and any single man driving out will also be questioned.”
    â€œI suppose there’s no point trying to track anyone down?”
    â€œIt would be absolutely useless. An army couldn’t find a man in there who wanted to make himself scarce.”
    Collins turned back to the four men. “We’re going to fly in after the body. I’ll want to talk to you again, so perhaps you’ll all be good enough to wait here.” He received an unenthusiastic assent. “One other matter,” said Collins. “Has anyone notified Mr. Genneman’s family?”
    Retwig gave a curt nod. “I did.”
    The helicopter flew east, up Kings Canyon. Superintendent Phelps said, “We’ll make directly for Persimmon Lake, then follow the trail to Lomax Falls, where they say the shooting occurred.”
    At the road’s end the helicopter swung north and flew up the valley, the Copper Creek Trail a crazy zigzag alongside the mountain.
    Phelps pointed out a wooded notch to the inspector. “That’s Suggs Meadow, where they spent the first night. And see that notch ahead? That’s Dutchman’s Pass.”
    â€œDo you lose many campers out here?”
    Phelps shook his head. “Most people are pretty sensible. Once in a while somebody gets lost, or breaks a leg. Then we’ve got to go in for them. But that’s about the size of it. We have more trouble keeping the wilderness wild. You’d be surprised at the number of nature-lovers who want to take motorcycles or motor scooters over the trails.”
    â€œYou don’t allow it?”
    â€œStrictly forbidden.” Phelps blew out his ginger mustache. “Likewise outboard motors, electric generators, and so forth. We even discourage shouting, yodeling, and general raising hell. A man who takes the trouble to hike into the wilderness wants peace and quiet, and he’s entitled to get it.”
    Dutchman’s Pass slid below, snowbanks gleaming; ahead lay Persimmon Lake. Phelps pointed out the trail to the pilot. “The falls are about two miles long. There’s a meadow just this