‘I imagine the visibility would have been poor though. Was there concern among the mountain staff that the skiers might lose their bearings?’
‘You can’t get lost at Charlotte’s,’ he said scornfully. ‘It’s one big bowl. All the runs finish at the village.’
‘So, despite the worsening conditions, a lift that was notorious for breaking down even in milder weather was still operating?’
He shrugged. ‘People come here to ski.’
Ryder watched as the groomer reached into his breast pocket and took out a cigarette lighter. Lombardi turned it over and over in his hand, playing with it like other people play with stress balls.
‘Look. I was only eighteen. I didn’t ask questions. I did as I was told.’
‘Do you remember anyone getting on that lift, say, during the last hour?’
‘Yep. A few day trippers were trying to make it back to Thredbo. I heard later they got as far as the restaurant, but by then the second lift had been closed. They had to wait it out up there.’
‘At least they wouldn’t have gone hungry,’ quipped Flowers.
Ryder smirked and let the comment hang in the air for a bit. ‘You see, Bruno. You don’t mind if I call you Bruno, do you? I have this theory that Celia got on that lift.’ He spread his hands. ‘How else did she wind up dead on that mountain? Did you see her, on her own, or with someone else?’
‘Nope.’ The groomer’s eyes were fixed on the intricate carpet pattern. Every so often he’d swallow, all the while clicking the lighter.
Ryder leaned against the back of the lounge. ‘Detective Flowers, get Mr Lombardi some water.’
‘You all right, Bruno?’ Lewicki asked as Flowers left the room.
‘Yeah, I’m all right.’
Ryder caught Lewicki’s eye. He’d worked with Lew long enough to know what he was thinking. Lombardi looked like a haunted man.
When Flowers came back, Ryder continued. ‘Do you remember anything happening that might have taken your attention away from the people who were loading onto the lift?’
Lombardi gulped his water noisily then put the empty glass on the table. ‘Nothing in particular, but there’s always somethin’ going on. I could have gone to help someone, or to answer the two-way.’
‘We suspect Celia was a foot passenger.’ The remnants of leather and rubber Harriet had recovered had been more consistent with a soft walking boot than a stiffer, supportive ski boot.
Lombardi said nothing, his gaze skittering from one side of the room to the other. ‘I suppose she could have slipped by me, if I’d been distracted.’
‘It’s possible, then?’
‘Anything’s possible. It was just a standard chairlift with a special hood. People could load on themselves.’
‘In your statement, you said you were told to put the chain across and go inside. Who gave you that order?’
Another vague shake of his head. ‘Dunno.’
‘You don’t know, or you won’t say?’
‘It was more’n fifty years ago.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Somethin’ like what you just said: “Put the chain across and go inside, I’ll do the last run.”’
‘Last run?’
‘Yeah, he meant he’d take a final ride on the chairlift to make sure no one was still out on the hill. It’s routine. The patrollers do it as part of their final sweep before shutdown.’
Flowers leaned forward. ‘Let me get this straight. Even though you put the chain across, you didn’t actually stop the lift. It was still operating?’
‘Yeah. The chain is to stop people from getting on. He was going to do the final run, like I said.’
‘Did you actually see him get on the lift?’ asked Ryder.
Lombardi shook his head. ‘I went straight inside. I was freezing.’
Ryder exchanged glances with Flowers and Lewicki. This changed everything. ‘Try to remember his name, Bruno,’ Ryder said. ‘We need to talk to him.’
‘I don’t like your chances. A lotta people have passed through here in the last fifty years.’
‘We’ll find out one way or another.’ Ryder sat back, folded his arms and looked at Flowers.
‘Have you ever thought of moving away from here, Mr Lombardi?’ Flowers asked.
‘I’ve had offers from everywhere. Whenever I told the Gordons I was leaving, they upped my pay. They know they’re on a good thing. I’m the most experienced groomer in the mountains.’
‘What do you do with all your money, Bruno?’ Lewicki asked, like they were having a yarn at the local pub. ‘Got any kids?’
‘Nah. Angela’s got three. A couple of them are in Sydney. I’ve helped them out with money, so they could buy a house. I don’t spend much cash, only on beer and cigarettes, and an occasional trip to Thailand.’ He pointed to his face. ‘Girls around here don’t want to get too close to this face.’
‘What about Burt Crofts, the lift mechanic?’ Ryder asked.
‘What about him?’
‘Is he a good mate of yours?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Detective Flowers was told he left for Sydney a couple of days before Celia Delaney’s remains were found.’
Lombardi’s eyebrows shot up. ‘It was the same day.’ He turned and looked at Flowers. ‘Whoever told you that got their days mixed up.’
‘It was the bloke in the alpine club.’
Lombardi snorted. ‘That bloke wouldn’t have a clue what was going on.’
‘Do you know where we can we find Crofts?’ Ryder asked.
‘Luna Park. They’ve got a problem with one of their rides.’
‘He’s fixing a ride?’
‘That’s what he does. Check with the Gordons. He has an arrangement with them.’ He gave a phlegmy cough without bothering to cover his mouth. ‘In demand all over the place, Crofts is.’
‘Okay. We’ll make enquiries.’ Ryder stood up. ‘I guess that’s all for now, Mr Lombardi. Stick around. We might need to talk to you further.’
Ryder opened the file and took his time lifting Lombardi’s statement off the split pin. He’d always had the greatest respect for Lew’s work, but the more he delved into the old investigation the clearer it became that mistakes had been made. Lew had neglected to get the name of the ski patroller, and to interview the other band members. He’d trusted Bruno’s explanation of what had happened because of their personal connection, but all these years later it seemed that trust had been misplaced.
Ryder ran his index finger along the yellowed paper. Fortunately, the print was still clearly legible thanks to the manual typewriters of the era. ‘In his original statement, Lombardi swore nothing had distracted him. He said: “There’s no way she could have got past me. I never once turned away to speak to, or help, anyone. I never once left my post.”’ Ryder looked up at the other two men. ‘Now he’s saying he could have been distracted. What do you think?’
‘I think he was knocked for six when you told him she was murdered,’ said Flowers. ‘He looked surprised then horrified. I couldn’t work out if it was genuine or if he was scared shitless that he was going to be found out. And I don’t like it that he’s changed his story.’
‘I don’t either.’ Ryder turned to Lewicki. ‘Lew, when Bruno told you he put the chain across at four-thirty, did you take that to mean he’d shut the chairlift down?’
‘Yes. As I understood it, he’d stopped the chair from operating.’
Ryder frowned. ‘Now he’s saying he put the chain across to stop the skiers loading on, but the chairlift itself was still operating because this unknown patroller planned on doing a final run to make sure everyone was off the hill.’
Flowers’ eyes flashed with excitement. ‘Which means, if there was any time gap between him leaving and this patroller getting on, Celia could have bypassed that chain and loaded onto the lift herself.’
There was a pause in the conversation as they mulled over this new information.
Lewick
i was the first to speak. ‘Bruno knows more than he’s letting on but, remember, Nigel Miller has also changed his story. He didn’t admit to an affair with Di Gordon back then, so why bring it up now if not to cast suspicion on her, and away from himself?’
‘Lew, it’s hardly surprising he kept it a secret. Adultery was a much bigger deal back then.’
‘That’s true, but Miller’s still my number one suspect.’
‘I can see that.’ Ryder held up a hand to stop Lew continuing. ‘Just indulge me for a minute. And, Lew, please put the Bruno of old out of your head.’
Ryder began pacing. ‘I’m imagining Celia, intent on getting out of Charlotte Pass irrespective of the weather. She turns up at the lift loading area, on foot. Only the hardcore skiers are out, and most of them are sticking to the T-bar and poma because visibility is bad.’ He paused and leaned both hands on the back of the sofa. ‘A few have gone up on the chairlift, trying to get back to Thredbo, but it’s very quiet in the building across the creek—now known as Long Bay. Only the liftie, Lombardi, is there, working his shift.’ Ryder pushed off the sofa and resumed pacing, punctuating each point with a series of hand gestures. ‘Lombardi stops Celia, tells her it’s dangerous and the cab needs extra weight. But she’s an attractive woman, only a handful of years older than him. She’s upset and vulnerable, fleeing from her husband. She begs him to let her get on, otherwise she’s going to walk into Perisher.’ Ryder stopped pacing and spread his hands. ‘What does Lombardi do? He can’t order her back to the inn. Does he leave his post and accompany her on the lift? It’s nearly closing time and there’s no one else around.’
‘Maybe he was going to take her as far as the restaurant and come back down, when everything went pear-shaped,’ said Flowers.
‘Maybe he took her up knowing she’d never make it to Perisher if she went through with her threat to walk,’ added Lewicki. ‘Maybe he was trying to do the right thing.’
Ryder nodded. ‘Maybe. We have no way of knowing yet exactly what happened up on Mount Stillwell, but Lombardi definitely looks like a man hiding something.’ He turned away and went to stand at the window. ‘Have you thought about this? Perhaps the reason he can’t give us the name of the ski patroller who supposedly told him to put the chain across and go inside is because there never was one.’
Fifteen
‘I reckon this low-pressure system is coming in quicker than they’ve predicted.’ Terry jabbed a finger at the weather forecast pinned to the noticeboard in the inn. ‘I think we’ll start getting snow overnight.’
‘We’d better put together a shovel squad for first thing in the morning, then,’ Vanessa replied. Many on the ski-school staff thought Terry was a frustrated meteorologist, but more often than not he was right.
‘Anyone you know need a kick in the pants?’ Terry asked.
Vanessa shook her head.
‘I can’t think of anyone in particular,’ said Johan, ‘but I just walked through the pub and a group of lifties have been in there for a while. They don’t look like they’re slowing down anytime soon either.’
Terry gleefully rubbed his hands together. ‘Then I’ll go down and give them the good news. They can look forward to being the first out of bed in the morning.’
‘Excuse me, Vanessa,’ someone said from behind them.
It was one of the young women who worked behind the reception desk. Vanessa had spoken to her a few times earlier in the season but now she searched her mind for a name—but it remained just out of reach. ‘Hi,’ she said with a smile.
‘That was lucky. I thought I was going to have to go over to Long Bay to get you.’
Vanessa frowned. ‘Is anything the matter?’
‘I don’t think so. Mrs Gordon just asked to see you. She’s downstairs in Mr Gordon’s office.’
Vanessa raised her eyebrows and looked at Terry.
‘Do you know where the office is?’ the woman asked.
‘Yes, I do,’ Vanessa said. ‘Thank you for telling me.’
‘What’s all that about?’ asked Terry when the woman was out of earshot.
‘I have no idea. Only one way to find out, though.’ Vanessa sat on the bench and pulled off her ski boots. ‘Can you save me some dinner please, Johan? I’m starving.’ Long Bay’s first-in-best-dressed policy left those who were late at a disadvantage.
‘Sure. I’ll put a plate in the oven for you.’
The Gordons’ personal suite of rooms was tucked away in an isolated corner of the inn, rarely frequented by employees. The noise from the common areas faded as the dimly lit hallway stretched ahead of her. Vanessa approached the door tentatively, her socked feet silent on the plush pile carpet.
Di’s angry voice filtered towards her through the door that was ajar. Vanessa hesitated, unsure whether to go back or to knock and make her presence known.
‘This is the last time you’ll work down here,’ Di hissed. ‘As soon as your gig is over, pack up your gear and get the hell out.’
Vanessa froze, her heart beginning to pound. Was she next in line to be laid off?
‘It was a stupid thing to do, telling them what we did back then.’ Di was almost shouting now. ‘Why would you do that? We were only young. It’s over fifty years ago, for fuck’s sake.’
Stomach churning, Vanessa retreated a few steps. She wasn’t supposed to hear this. Better that she leave now and come back.
She turned around and came face to face with Henry Gordon. She gasped, a hand flying to her mouth, her skin crawling at his close proximity. ‘I … I got a message that Di wanted to see me,’ she stammered, taking a step back. ‘But she has someone else in with her. I’m happy to come back later.’ She went to brush past him, but he stepped in her way.
‘No need to come back. All we wanted to do was to remind you of your priorities.’
Vanessa hesitated. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Your priorities regarding your work. You’re employed by the village as a ski patroller and, as we own the lease, that’s us. It’s come to our notice that you’ve been spending a lot of time with the police.’
An indignant heat warmed Vanessa’s face. She took a deep breath. ‘I have never neglected my duties as a patroller. Everything I’ve done has been at the direction of the mountain manager, or has been in response to a direct request from the police. I can’t refuse to cooperate with them.’
That wasn’t entirely true. She’d followed Detective Ryder into the inn so she could tell him about the tree well. And she’d offered to write down the names of the long-term residents at Charlotte Pass. Any number of people could have seen her passing the note to Detective Flowers the night of the flare run. The floodlights had lit up the hill like daytime.
‘Well,’ Henry said, ‘as long as you remember who’s paying your wages.’
Vanessa nodded. Like she’d forget. ‘Of course.’
He stepped aside, allowing her to make her escape, and though she didn’t look back she had the uneasy feeling he was still watching her when she reached the end of the corridor.
Relieved to be back in the communal part of the inn, Vanessa yanked her boots on and stepped out into the darkness. Her unexpected meeting with Henry Gordon had left her more chilled than the freezing night air. With snow crunching underfoot, she looked left and right, blinking at the blackness, searching out the shadows that could be Bruno lying in wait. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before the distinctive sound of water trickling over rocks told her she had reached the bridge.
Safely on the other side, she pulled her jacket more tightly around her and hurried towards the faint glow at the top of the stairs.
Sixteen
Day 6
‘Have you seen him today?’ Libby asked.
They were standing at the top of the new tube run, waiting for the guest of honour to arrive and formally declare it open. Vanessa was the ski patroller on duty, and Libby’s charges were lined up behind them, the first group to put the tube run to the t
est.
Vanessa raised her eyebrows. ‘Who, Aidan Smythe?’
Libby snorted. ‘Not him. The hot detective who put us in our place the other day.’
‘He apologised to me for that.’ Vanessa looked downhill to the inn nestled beside the creek. She could just make out the windows of the corner suite from where Ryder was conducting the investigation. ‘The kids being close to that snowcat seemed to trigger something horrible that he’d seen, probably on the job. He said we were in the wrong place at the wrong time.’ She smiled at her friend. ‘And, no, I haven’t seen him since yesterday, when I took him up to the grave on the snowmobile.’
‘Oh, my God! You took Ryder for a ride?’
‘Libby.’ Vanessa glanced around, but the kids were too busy crawling over their giant inner tubes to notice. She lowered her voice. ‘I’m telling you this because you’re my friend. We’re going to meet for coffee, or possibly a drink, very soon. I actually asked him.’
Libby’s eyes glowed with admiration. ‘You dark horse. How did you pull that off?’
Vanessa shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to waste an opportunity to let him know I fancied him. I’m thirty-three, Lib. People are always saying, “You’ll meet the right one when you least expect it,” but for all the dates I’ve been on, so far it hasn’t happened. Anyway, I think he’s worth the embarrassment I suffered.’
‘Did he say if he has a girlfriend?’
‘He would have told me if he did. I don’t know, he’s …’
‘Hot?’
Vanessa laughed. ‘Yes, but that’s not what I was going to say. He’s different. He seems like the kind of guy you could rely on.’
‘Well, I want to hear all about it when it happens.’
‘It’s only coffee.’ Vanessa turned at the sound of a snowmobile roaring towards them. The rider kept to the centre of the run, away from the rope tow that had been installed off to one side to drag the inner tubes up the hill.
The rider parked the machine close to where Vanessa and Libby stood with the children. The group who’d been waiting, many of them parents, gathered around, their cameras at the ready as Aidan Smythe climbed from the snowmobile, dazzling in his signature gold ski jacket and sunglasses.
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