“Do you really think that someone would try something here?” I asked. “There must be a bazillion people running around the place.”
“Yeah, but how many of them are out in the woods?”
I had seen one other couple follow the Stewarts as they disappeared down the trail.
“You know, you’re right,” I said. “If someone’s really after them for that gold, we can’t let our guard down. One of us should go.”
“I’ll flip you for it,” Ox said.
* See photo, page 217
He pulled a quarter out of his pocket and flipped it in the air. “Call it.”
“Heads,” naturally, it was tails.
Now I am fully aware that the statistical probability of a coin coming up heads is 50%, but somehow, I have been able to defy the laws of probability all of my life.
It makes no difference whether it’s a coin flip or anything else that has only two possible outcomes --- whichever one I choose, it’s always the opposite.
Any time that I try to plug in one of those electric cords that have one prong bigger than the other, there should be an even chance that I will get it right half the time --- but it never happens.
One profession that I will absolutely NEVER consider is being on the bomb squad. I’ve seen the movies where the guy has ten seconds to decide whether to cut the red wire or the blue one before everyone is blown to hell. No matter which one I would choose, it would be the wrong one.
Ox knows this and has used that knowledge multiple times in our three years of working together. That particular moment was no exception.
“Oh gee, Walt,” he said with a big grin, “tails! Imagine that. Have a nice hike.”
“Fine! When you find the girls, please tell Maggie where I am and that you’ve screwed me again.”
“Well, I’ll tell them the first part,” he said with a wave as he ambled to the concession stand.
I headed down the path where I had seen the Stewarts enter the woods and the first thing I encountered were signs warning hikers to beware of bears.
“Just great,” I thought. “The one person that might actually have a chance against a bear is probably wolfing down a chili dog about now.”
The path was quite curvy and wooden bridges spanned bog-like terrain and swiftly running streams. I could only see a few yards ahead of me due to all of the twists and turns.
As I rounded a corner at the end of a particularly long open stretch, I saw Mark and Amy. They seemed to be fascinated by something in the trees just off the path.
The couple that I had seen follow them in were right behind them and seemed to be advancing toward them at an unusually rapid pace.
I knew that there was no way that I could catch up to them quickly, so I cupped my hands and shouted, “MARK! AMY! WAIT UP!”
They turned when they heard my voice and I noticed that the other couple slowed their pace.
When I finally caught up, I heard bits of conversation. “Mark and Amy Stewart from Kansas City.”
“We’re the Larson’s from Washington State. Seen any bears?”
“No, just that old guy,” Mark said pointing to a porcupine perched on a tree limb about ten feet off the trail.”
When I came huffing up, Mark said, “This is Walt. He’s --- uhhh --- a friend of ours.”
“Nice to meet you,” the man said, extending his hand. “Luke Larson and this is my wife, Gwen.”
As I shook the man’s hand, I felt ridiculous thinking that this young couple could have been a danger to the Stewarts. I figured that I was getting a bit paranoid.
We finished the hike without encountering either bears or muggers.
The bus was nearly full by the time we emerged from the woods.
As I walked past Ox, he couldn’t help but give me a hard time. “How was your hike? Beautiful, I’ll bet.”
“Shut up and wipe the chili off your chin.”
Our last stop was the Gold Creek Alaskan Salmon Bake.
The camp was located just off of the highway, far back into the forest along the bank of Salmon Creek.
When we climbed off of the bus, the mixture of aromas that filled the air made my mouth water.
Huge slabs of wild-caught salmon were roasting on a grill over an open Alder-wood fire. *
A buffet had been set up with baked beans, rice, cornbread and other tasty stuff. We got plates, made our selections from the buffet and headed to the grill.
* See photo, page 218
A crusty old guy transferred the salmon steaks from the fire to our plates and asked if we wanted sauce.
I looked at the pan of brown gooey stuff bubbling in an old brown pot. “What kind of sauce?”
“Brown sugar.”
I figured that it couldn’t be too bad.
We took our places at long picnic tables. The first bite of the salmon hit my mouth and Ox’s at the same time. I could tell by the expression on his face that we had just experienced a culinary miracle.
All either of could say was, “Ohhhhh! Ohhhh!”
I had never tasted anything quite like it in my life.
We went back for seconds and were still gobbling the sweet fish long after the rest of our party was finished.
There was plenty to explore around the old gold camp. Pans were provided for the hardy folks that wanted to brave the icy water to pan for gold and marshmallows were available to be roasted over an open fire.
I had kept one eye on Mark and Amy while my other eye was on my salmon. They had wandered around the camp, roasted a few marshmallows and had just headed up a wooded trail that ran alongside Salmon Creek.
I wasn’t too concerned until I saw the couple that had followed them on the glacier trail fall in behind them.
Coincidence? Maybe --- maybe not!
“Watch my plate,” I said to Ox. “Don’t let anyone take it. I’m not through yet.”
“Somethin’ wrong?” Ox mumbled with a mouthful of salmon.
“Probably not. Just making sure.”
The path followed the curves of Salmon Creek and it was easy to spot the big fish fighting their way upstream to spawn and die.
I rounded a bend, and a hundred yards ahead I saw Mark and Amy staring into a gigantic hole in the side of the mountain. It was probably the entrance to the old mine that had been abandoned years ago. *
The only other people on the trail were Luke and Gwen and they were going to be at the mine opening long before I would.
I was faced with a dilemma --- yell out again and have them think that I’m a damned old fool or do nothing and hope that they do the same.
It didn’t take me long to decide. Better to look foolish than to look back at the moment with regret.
“HEY, PROSPECTORS! WAIT FOR ME!”
Luke and Gwen had reached the Stewarts just as I shouted. All four of them turned to face me.
A big smile broke out on two of the faces. Not so much on the other two.
“Well, here we are again,” Luke said, forcing a smile. “We’re going to have to quit meeting like this. People will talk.”
* See photo, page 219
“I’m glad you showed up, Walt,” Amy said. “Mark wanted to explore in this old mine, but I don’t think it’s safe. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
I looked at the entrance that had yellow tape across it and a sign that said, “DANGER - NO ADMITTANCE.”
I was just about to weigh in as a party pooper when we heard the bus honking its horn in the distance.
“I guess that settles it,” Amy said, taking Mark’s hand. “We have to go or we’ll miss the bus.”
We all headed back down the trail, but something told me that not everyone was happy that I showed up again.
It was about three in the afternoon when the bus dropped us off in the parking lot by the wharf where the cruise ship was docked.
Since the ship wouldn’t sail until ten-thirty that night, we still had lots of time to see the sights of Juneau.
One
of the attractions that had caught our eye when the ship had first docked was the Mount Roberts Tramway just a short walk from the wharf.
One of the things that I had noticed about the Alaskan coastal cities was that they all seemed to be built on whatever land happened to be available between the sea on one side and the mountains on the other. Juneau was a perfect example. The base of Mount Roberts, right in the heart of Juneau, rose almost straight up to over 4,000 feet to the summit.
The Tramway consisted of two opposing gondolas traveling 1,800 feet, almost straight up, on huge cables from sea level to a restaurant, theatre and nature center perched on the side of the mountain. *
It had been billed as one of Alaska’s best attractions. After we purchased our tickets and were directed to the loading area, I discovered why. Counting the Statendam, there were a total of six cruise ships docked at the Juneau wharf and it looked like every passenger from all six ships had decided to take the tram at the same time. The line snaked around endless barriers as the travelers waited for the gondolas to make their round trip to the top and back.
We fell in line behind a woman that obviously had a seeing impairment. She held a red-tipped cane in one hand and the leash to a big black lab in the other. I had to admire the woman’s spunk. Navigating the crowded tourist attraction was a struggle for me even with all of my faculties. I could only imagine what it was like for her.
* See photo, page 219
Judy, being a dog lover, asked the woman if she could pet the lab. The woman politely said, “no” since the dog was ‘working’, and that was that.
The big dog seemed oblivious to the hundreds of people that crowded around him --- except for me. He raised his big head, looked me in the eye and buried his wet nose in my crotch.
“Looks like you have an admirer,” Ox said with a grin.
I am at a total loss as to why, during my pathetic life, there have been WAY more dogs acquainted with my crotch than women --- not a statistic that I’m proud of.
At last it was our turn to board the gondola. The thing was supposed to hold sixty passengers and by the time the door closed, I knew how a sardine must feel. Thank goodness the trip to the top only lasted six minutes.
We had only gone a few hundred feet when I felt a gentle probing of my rear end. I guessed, incorrectly, that Maggie was taking the opportunity to demonstrate her attraction to her mate.
I reached around, expecting to find the hand of my sweetie, but instead grabbed hold of a wet nose. Apparently the big lab had decided to check out my backside.
The wait in line had been grueling and the ride to the top had been claustrophobic, but when we stepped out of the gondola onto the observation deck, it was quite obvious that the view was worth the hassle.
Almost directly below was the city of Juneau and we could see for miles in every direction, from the Gastineau Channel on the south to the Chilkat Mountains on the north and to Douglas Island across the Channel. Spectacular! *
We were a bit dry and exhausted from the ordeal, so our first stop was the Timberline Bar and Grill where we all enjoyed a refreshing beverage while drinking in the marvelous view.
A young lady came through the restaurant announcing that the next presentation in the theatre would be starting in a few minutes. It was an eighteen-minute film about the culture of the Tlingit Indians of Southeast Alaska. We decided to attend.
It was just after four o’clock when we exited the theatre. We still had an hour and a half to kill before we were to re-board for our next fine dining experience at the Rotterdam.
There were several trails leading from the lodge up onto the mountainside and our young charges were eager to explore a bit more of the Alaskan wilderness.
We found out from a guide that the most popular trail was the Alpine Loop Trail, which, as the name implied, made a half-mile loop up the steep mountain and back to the lodge. It was the shortest trail and would take maybe forty-five minutes depending on how much time was spent gawking.
* See photo, page 220
We were about to head out when Ox held up his hand, “If I’m going to be out there forty-five minutes and exerting, I need to make a potty stop.”
“Me, too,” Judy said. “You guys go on and we’ll catch up.”
We were just heading out the door when a middle-aged fellow tapped me on the arm. “Excuse me. I don’t mean to be a bother, but I’m by myself and I wonder if you’d mind taking a photo of me on the observation platform with the Channel in the background?”
I was about to beg off when Amy said, “Go ahead, Walt. We’ll be fine. You can catch up when Ox and Judy are out of the restroom.”
I looked around and seeing no one in particular, and specifically not the couple that had showed up on our last two stops, I reluctantly agreed.
“I really appreciate this,” the man said as he posed on the platform. “My kids back in California have been bugging me to send pictures, but it’s hard to do when you’re alone. I’m Louis French, by the way.”
“Walt and Maggie Williams,” I said, snapping the picture. “I gather you’re not used to traveling alone.”
“Not really,” he replied. “My wife passed away six months ago and this is my first time out.”
I felt like an idiot. “Sorry to hear that,” I said, sheepishly.
“It happens,” he said with a sigh. “Part of life, I guess. Anyway, thank you very much.”
French headed to the line of people waiting for the next gondola down the mountain just as Ox and Judy came around the corner.
“How come you guys aren’t on the trail, and where are Mark and Amy?” Ox asked.
I pointed to French standing in line, “That guy asked us to snap his picture. The Stewarts went on ahead. I made sure no one was following them, but we need to hurry to catch up.”
The first part of the trail was relatively easy, but then the climb became steeper and Ox was soon huffing and puffing. Most of the trail was fairly wide, but in some places, it was only three feet wide with the mountain rising on one side and a sheer drop-off on the other.
Signs along the trail bore the same warning as the tattoo purported to be on the inside of a hooker’s thigh, “Slippery when wet!”
We came to a wide spot with a spectacular view and Ox held up his hand. “Rest stop!”
I had tried to keep my own gasping to a minimum and I wasn’t about to argue.
We had just plopped down when from up ahead we heard a blood-curdling scream.
“EEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHH!”
We were all on our feet in an instant, double-timing up the trail.
The first “HELP” was faint, but as we climbed, it became louder. “HELP!” HELP!”
We came to a sharp bend in the trail and when we looked over the edge, we were horrified to see Mark perched on a rock outcropping twenty feet below us.
Amy was just ten feet below the trail, but her predicament was much more serious --- she was hanging onto the base of a cedar tree and her feet were dangling loose. If she lost her grip, she would plummet hundreds of feet to the rocks below.
“We need a rope,” Ox said. “We have to go back to the lodge for a rope!”
We could see the terror in Amy’s eyes, “I --- I don’t think I can hold on much longer. Help me!”
“It would take at least fifteen minutes to get back to the lodge and another fifteen back up here. She’ll never hold on that long,” Judy said.
I had a thought, but the idea absolutely petrified me. I have two phobias, spiders and heights. Looking over the edge to the jagged rocks hundreds of feet below gave me the willys, but I couldn’t think of a better option.
“Ox, do you think you can support my weight?”
“They don’t call me ‘Ox’ for nothing,” he replied.
“Then here’s what we have to do --- you’ll grab my feet and lower me over the ledge. Amy and I will lock hands and you can pull us both up. Think you can handle it?”
“Walt!” Maggie shrieked. “Surely y
ou’re not thinking of going over that edge!”
“I’m certainly open to any other suggestions,” I replied.
She had none.
“I can do it,” Ox said, “but we’d better hurry.”
“Okay,” I said with more confidence than I was feeling, “get on your knees and grab my ankles. I’ll ease myself over the edge and you can slowly lower me down. You may have to lie on your stomach to get me low enough to reach her. When Ox is on his stomach, you girls each sit on one of his legs to keep him stable. Are we ready?”
“Let’s do it!” he said.
I got on my belly and eased my chest out over the side of the cliff. I felt Ox’s big paws around my ankle. It wasn’t too bad until the moment that I had to completely slide off and dangle upside down relying totally on the strength of my friend.
I closed my eyes and slid out into the void. I felt the blood rushing to my head and hoped that I wouldn’t pass out.
“Don’t look down. Don’t look down.” I kept saying to myself, but I knew that eventually, I would have to open my eyes.
When I did peek out, I saw Amy a good two feet below my outstretched arms.
“More! I need more!” I yelled.
“That’s all I’ve got unless I bend out over the cliff myself --- but then I’ve lost all my leverage --- the only thing that would be holding me is the girls.”
“I --- I can’t hold on much longer!” Amy wailed.
“We can do it,” Judy said. “Go slow --- but GO!”
I felt Ox shifting his weight forward and when the big man’s stomach was over the edge, he leaned down giving me just enough to reach the tree Amy was clutching.
“Okay, Amy,” I said, trying to be reassuring, “you need to lock your hand around my wrist and I’ll do the same to yours. When we’re secure, Ox will lift us up.”
“I --- I can’t let go,” she said as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’ll fall!”
“No you won’t. I won’t let you!”
“You might want to hurry down there,” Ox said. “I’m about to lose my lunch!”
[Lady Justice 11] - Lady Justice and the Cruise Ship Murders Page 8