by J. K. Kelly
He smiled. “Fourth,” he replied.
“I got a text from Vicki,” Eve told him. “She’s connected with some guy from India, and they’re flying there tomorrow. He’s treating!” They both laughed.
“You have to admire someone who always lands on their feet,” he added.
After an hour-long stroll up to the Hohensalzburg Fortress, a massive white castle sitting on a hill overlooking the city best known for composer Wolfgang Mozart, it was time to eat again. Eve noticed as their walk progressed that Matt seemed distracted by something.
“You bored with me already?” she joked and then nudged him in the ribs for a response.
“Never check your texts and emails while on vacation, that’s a rule I broke today,” he told her. “I’ll have to head over to England in a few days to clean up someone’s mess. You’re welcome to come along, and I hope that you will.”
He watched her go rigid and, for a moment, thought her reaction was to his proposal. Then he saw what she was staring at. Two rough-looking drunks were loitering near a trash can, tossing their beer bottles and sandwich wrappers toward the bins, but missing. They walked on past, leaving their trash on the cobblestones.
“Pick those up!” she yelled at the men.
Matt shook his head, remembering that night in Montreal. But with Vicki gone, he’d suddenly become – whether he liked it or not – her wingman. She had bragged to Matt back in Quebec that she was a badass. Now he was going to see if she really could walk the walk.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Eve might not have been sure which language the locals had just cursed her mother in, but Matt recognized them as angry drunks, not the fun and docile ones you could steer out the door or into a cab. These two had grown up fighting, and it felt as if tonight was going to be just another in a long line of them.
“That was impressive,” Matt uttered to Eve.
“What?” she asked as she moved her right foot back six inches to set her defensive stance, in case either of the drunks chose to charge them.
“How quickly you hit the rev limiter,” he answered. She took her eyes off the men who were staggering toward them, still uttering slurs and curses.
“A what?” she asked.
But by now, a noisy crowd had encircled the four combatants, and the first offensive move was made.
The drunk in the red t-shirt lunged at Eve. Matt kept his eyes trained on the second one, this one in black, while Eve dispatched her attacker with three quick blows. Seeing his friend hit the cobblestones, his teeth crashing and breaking much like the bottles had, the man in black charged Eve. Admiring her moves and guessing she needed no help, Matt took a step to the right and let her work her magic a second time.
Meanwhile, there was no need for either of them to watch the man in red. He was out cold, probably in need of a doctor. The local police soon broke through the crowd of tourists and shop owners. They arrived just in time to see the man in black acting as the aggressor and Eve, in self-defense. The police handcuffed the one drunk and called an ambulance for the other, while the crowd applauded the young woman for standing up to the local bullies. Matt stood back in amazement, quietly clapping as well.
Eve smiled at the crowd and raised clasped hands as if she had just won a championship-boxing match.
“Do you need us to make a statement, officer?” Matt asked a patrolman.
“No, this is the third time we’ve had to deal with these two this summer. In Salzburg, we have a saying, just like in America, ‘three strikes and you are out.’ They will be heading for at least six months in jail for this behavior.”
While Eve spoke with two of the bystanders who had admired her handiwork, Matt felt his phone vibrate and checked it for news. It was from Sam Horton in Jackson Hole.
HEY MC—YOU EVER COMING BACK? DID THE DOC SAY YOUR BLOOD TESTS WERE OKAY? I HAD A DREAM HELENE CAME AND KICKED BOTH OUR ASSES FOR NOT TAKING HER TO THE TETONS. LET ME KNOW WHEN WE’LL SEE YOU AGAIN.
Matt texted back:
OVERSEAS ON A BUSINESS TRIP. BACK SOON. DOC SAID AOK.
Eve smiled at Matt. She had noticed the look of surprise in his eyes.
“You going to buy me dinner for saving your ass?” she quipped.
He smiled back. “Pick the place!”
Eve checked the menus of outdoor cafes as they walked along the street. Matt kept replaying in his mind everything that was still unknown. Had the Nepalese police caught the Base Camp killer? Why did his aunt initiate her ring signal? Were the deaths of Thomas Sinclair and Sarah Sinclair Wilkerson connected in any way? And were these hitmen after just him, or was Charlie at risk as well?
“Hey, I like this one,” Eve called out from the front of an Italian-themed café.
“Prego!” Matt responded and joined her for what he hoped would be a relaxing dinner date with a happy ending.
After she had finished two bottles of wine on her own, and Matt was knocking back his traditional six glasses of draft beer, they walked arm in arm toward their hotel.
“Lasagna, garlic bread, meatballs, and tiramisu. Did we really eat all of that?”
She laughed. “I think you call it carb loading. You know, before a big, long climb. Yes?” she teased.
Matt shook his head and rubbed his belly.
“So, where did you learn those dance moves?” he asked, changing the subject. She looked confused.
“Oh yes, the alley fight. My father taught me that I should never depend on a man for anything. And never to let a man put his hands on me. He sent me for martial arts training. I felt empowered, and I just liked it. So, I pursued other forms of self-defense, as well as yoga and mountain climbing, to stay in shape.”
Matt thought he’d heard her correctly but was confused by the last bit. They’d arrived back at the hotel, and he hit the elevator button in the lobby.
“You’re into mountain climbing?” he asked with surprise. “You never told me that.”
“Oh, yes, I love it. I’ve been to the Canadian Rockies, the Matterhorn, Kilimanjaro, and Denali.”
Matt was jealous. He’d only been to half those sites, but he’d also been to the mother of them all. When the elevator arrived, Matt stepped in after her.
“Last spring,” she said with pride, “I made it to Everest for the first time. It was a beautiful experience that I will never forget. I couldn’t climb for the summit because of my eyes, but I spent time at Base Camp and got to know a lot of really interesting characters up there.”
Matt’s heart sank. He was looking straight at her, and there was nothing but enthusiasm in her voice and expression. The only tell was that she was telling the truth. Once inside their room, they did as young couples do on vacation. They watched television until Eve excused herself and then came back and stood in the bedroom doorway, wearing only a smile.
Half a dozen ill-timed thoughts flashed through his mind. Before him stood a beautiful young woman with a French accent, who knew her way around an ice ax, was into mountain climbing, and might have been on Everest around the time a man had been killed by someone whose description she resembled. And yet…
She’s not a killer. No way! he told himself.
And with that, he turned off the lights and joined her in the next room.
Early the next morning, before Eve woke up, Matt texted his old friend Amir in Kathmandu. He asked a simple question:
DID YOU CATCH THE ICE AX KILLER?
He hoped for a fast answer that would relieve him of troubling thoughts.
The alarm on her phone went off right at eight, later that morning, and Eve voiced her excitement over their plans for the day. While she took a shower, Matt checked his phone. Amir had answered:
NO, MY FRIEND. NO LEADS. COLD CASE NOW.
DON’T DRINK TOO MUCH. COME SEE US AGAIN.
Matt sighed. Feeling only a little guilty, he dug Eve’s passport out of her luggage and opened it. There was a Nepalese visa stapled to one of the inside pages of the ID. His heart sank. She had b
een in the country when the murder on Everest had taken place.
After breakfast, they had planned to rent a car near the train station and take the short ride from Salzburg down to Berchtesgaden, where they would park at the visitor’s center of the famed Kehlsteinhaus, the house on top of the Kehlstein Mountain. Built in the late 1930s as a retreat for Adolph Hitler, nearly 75 years after the end of World War II, it served now as an engineering marvel and a place to enjoy food and drink and breathtaking mountain views. Matt expected it would take two hours or so for them to hike up to the 6,000-foot summit.
“So, are we going to enjoy a nice hike up to the top, or are you going to turn this into a competition?” he asked her.
She smiled. “We can race down, if we must, but I want to take my time and soak this all in. Remember, the air gets thinner as we climb. I can’t wait to capture this with my camera.”
With that, they headed up. After stopping to drink water and take more pictures, Eve wrapped her arms around Matt and gave him a tight hug and a long, passionate kiss.
“This is spectacular,” she said, smiling from ear to ear. They continued on until they arrived at the base of the stone retreat and then walked up a long, winding set of wooden stairs to reach the main level of the restaurant and viewing areas. Eve pointed to the area where they could walk away from the haus and go even further up, perhaps taking more photos of the building and the mountains that surrounded them.
“You lead,” he told her.
They passed a large wooden cross that had been erected overlooking Hitler’s former retreat. The evil was long gone. Now there was nothing but good times and beauty at the top. They continued slightly higher above the stone building, joining the more adventurous who squeezed between boulders and stepped to rough ledges to take selfies, forever mindful that a mistake while trying to snap a photo could get someone killed.
When Eve sensed they were alone, she pushed Matt against a boulder and made out with him until she heard someone giggle to her left. A young couple must have had the same thing in mind but went to seek out another private spot for themselves. As Eve stepped away from Matt, she handed him the Nikon her father had given her and backed up to the edge, stopping when he warned her not to go any farther. She posed in at least 10 different positions until Matt stopped clicking and stepped toward her, close to the edge.
“So how does this compare to Everest?” he asked. She looked around and smiled at the beauty.
“This is spectacular, but Everest – she’s a massive beauty for sure,” she said.
“Were you working?” he asked.
“Of course, I couldn’t afford that trip on my own,” she told him. “I was doing a photo essay on the trash left on the mountain for one of the environmental organizations I freelance for.” She must have sensed something was up. Matt’s tone had become more insistent, less like that of a curious friend.
“What’s with all the questions?” she asked. “You jealous?” She could see the enthusiasm in his eyes change. His expression took on a very serious tone, and he locked in on her in the way he often did when interviewing suspected criminals.
“Why did you slam an ice ax in that guy’s head?” he asked calmly.
Her eye flickered ever so slightly. He saw it, and she knew it. She smiled at him and then turned to look down behind her. She was vulnerable, and that didn’t sit well with her.
“Now that’s something you don’t hear every day,” she laughed but quickly turned serious as she turned toward him. “What makes you think?” She began to ask, but he shook his head, indicating there was no point in trying to lie, not to him. His expression coaxed her to answer. It was time to come clean.
“He lied to me, to get into my pants,” she proclaimed, but his expression didn’t change. He kept watching her.
“And he spit on Mother Chomolungma, on the mountain – the Goddess Mother of the World. That enraged me.” Matt continued to watch her face as he remembered what Vicki has warned him of. Eve was telling the truth, his instincts and his tradecraft convinced him of that.
“So you’re bipolar?” he asked, pushing for more. She didn’t answer.
“Was it the condom wrapper? Did he forget to dispose of it properly?” Matt suggested, pushing harder. Eve looked at him incredulously.
“So, what happens now?” she asked. “You going to try to throw me off?”
He wanted to show her that he had no intention of hurting her. But he also needed to be sure she couldn’t make a move on him. Animals are most dangerous when cornered. Matt smiled and backed a few feet away from her, never taking his eyes from hers. It’s in those moments, those blinks of an eye, that things happen.
“Nope,” he said. He opened the film door on her 35-millimeter camera, exposing it to the sun, and then handed the camera back to her. He thought for a few moments, taking in the scenery, and then said, “Unlock your phone and give it to me.” She was hesitant at first but then handed it to him. He then scrolled through her contacts and found his name, which he deleted. Then he went into her texts and deleted the ones they had exchanged. He went into her photos and looked for any images of him or the jet or the time they had spent together, dating back to Montreal and checking to make sure there were no photos of him from Quebec either. Then another thought came to mind.
“Did you have anything to do with Tilton’s death in Quebec?” he asked.
“Sort of. Vicki actually did the prick in,” she added, as if it were a normal workday for the two. “She’s got a meaner temper than I do.” Matt quickly began to put it all together. It must have been Vicki who checked into the room, and that must have been where she and Eve spent the night before Eve took the train home and left Vicki to do the dirty work. When he presented his thoughts to Eve, she smiled.
“God, you’re good. Yes – I stayed in Vicki’s room the night I first met you in the bar. We hadn’t come there to kill anyone, but when he treated me with such disrespect, he pissed me off really bad, but when I told Vicki about it, she went ballistic. I called Tilton’s suite from the train station and invited him to come to play in room 730, but only if he liked it rough.”
“Something tells me that’s not the first time either of you has been involved in a murder.” He stared at her. It was incredible that these two had been able to run around the world, leaving dead men in their wake.
“Let’s just say that we have never tolerated anyone who abused women, including Mother Earth. You might think what I did at Base Camp or what we did at the Chateau was a bit extreme, but what is it you Americans say - Go big or go home?”
“Yea, I guess that’s what some might say,” Matt responded and then took another moment to admire the view and form his next sentence.
“Okay, so I’m going to take the elevator back down and then catch the bus back to the car. From there I’ll drive to Salzburg and collect my things. Tonight’s room is already paid for, but after that, you’re on your own. I never want to hear from you again, and don’t come looking for me, neither of you, or there will be a much different outcome. Understand?” he asked.
“You’re just going to let me walk away?” she asked.
“Yes. There’s not enough physical or even circumstantial evidence to put you in the tent with that Brit or in the room where Tilton petered out, so yes, you’re free to go as far as I’m concerned. But I do have one last question. There’s more to you than you’ve shared.” He stepped closer to her.
“Why did your father get you all the self defense training, then all the extra training as you got older? What the hell brought that on? It was extreme.”
Eve stepped closer to him, close enough for an embrace, and then she told him the story.
“One night, it was near Christmas, my father came to my room and found my uncle – his brother – trying to crawl into my bed. I was scared, too terrified to scream. He pulled his brother from the room by the hair and once they were in the hallway he pulled my door closed and I heard him beat his brother again and
again. Then I heard the front door open and close. An hour later, my father came into my room. I was hiding under my comforter. I was so petrified I had wet my bed.”
Matt had locked eyes with her and couldn’t take them away.
“The next morning my father sat me down at the table in the kitchen. He warned me never to trust anyone, ever. Then he made a phone call and signed me up for self defense and when I began to thrive in it, we just kept going and going.”
“And your mother, where was she through all of this?” he asked.
“She was a nurse. She worked the night shift at the local hospital. When she came home my father told her what had happened. She came into my room, changed my sheets and pajamas, and lay with me until the morning.” A tear ran down Eve’s left cheek and Matt reached to wipe it away but with lightning speed Eve stopped his hand and held it.
“And the uncle – what happened to him?” Matt questioned. Eve smiled and raised his hand to her face, wiping the tear away.
“My father buried him somewhere on our property.” She squeezed his hand goodbye and then let go. She stepped back from him. As if on cue, the atmosphere changed on the mountaintop. What was once a beautiful sunny afternoon had now fallen under cloud cover. The temperature was dropping and the sound of thunder could be heard way off in the distance.
“And then a few years later, we buried my father.” Eve looked around at the tourists, mostly couples, who would approach and then retreat.
It didn’t take long for her to agree to Matt’s demand. She could get back to town, and she could move on from there and give Vicki a heads up that they were busted. Matt gave her one last look and then headed back toward the Kehlsteinhaus and the elevator that would drop 400 feet straight down inside the mountain.
But then he turned and walked back to her, stopping just a few feet from her. “One last thing. If a guy named Baral shows up at your condo in Montreal, I’d hightail it out of there. He’s with the Nepalese police, and I’m sending him a photo of your passport the minute I get back to the hotel.”