The Ruby Ray Mystery

by John Blaine

  They were clear and sharp. He could see the Mercedes-Benz parked next to the chalet, and the figure of a man on the porch under the low eaves. In another photo, he examined the sheer rocky wall that rose above the chalet to the razor ridge high above -a good two thousand feet, he estimated.

  Scotty pored over the photos with him. They found the best one of the cliff on which the chalet rested, and examined it with interest. It was rough, and steep, although not as steep as the upward thrust of the cliff above the shelf.

  Their eyes met.

  “It could be climbed,” Scotty said.

  “By night?”Rick asked.

  “Partly.We’d have to start during the daylight hours. Once we got above the first hundred feet, we’d be invisible from the road below, and from either side. Also, there’s a slight overhang at the top; we’d be invisible from above, until the last few minutes.”

  Rick studied the ascent and shivered. It could be climbed, but it wouldn’t be easy.

  “Isn’t there any other way?” he asked.

  Scotty shrugged. “I don’t see any. I’d hate to come down from the ridge above. Getting across that ridge would be murder, even by daylight. We can’t get in through the gate, and you can bet the fence is guarded at all times. The cliff is the only really vulnerable spot.”

  Rick was nothing if not persistent when on a case. “Well,” he said finally, “I’ve been hearing the term ‘cliff hanger’ for wild adventures all my life. Now it looks as though we’re going to hang on a cliff of our very own.”

  CHAPTER XIV

  High Rise

  Rick slowed the Mercedes as the road curved sharply through a pass between two ridges. He asked, “Do you suppose we should have waited for a call from Benson?”

  “There were no messages when we got back to the hotel and no calls while we were there,” Scotty pointed out. “I doubt he’s heard fromWashington .”

  The boys had decided against waiting. They were certain the game, whatever it was, would be played to a finish very soon. If they were to find out what Keller was doing, it had to be now.

  “Benson isn’t in a position to be of much help,” Rick observed. “He knew about Kratov and ACTION, but he didn’t know a thing about how Keller was involved.”

  The roadster sped past a narrow opening in the rock wall. Rick put on the brakes, stopped, and backed up. He saw that the opening was the entrance to a rock pit, and that the road leading in was clear, then he backed the Mercedes in until it was hidden from an approaching car. “We’ll wait a bit and see if anyone is following,” he explained, and cut the motor.

  Scotty put his Megabuck unit earphone in place. “Let’s see if there are any interesting noises from the chalet.”

  The boys had listened off and on, but except for an occasional unidentifiable sound and the murmur of a distant voice all seemed quiet. At least the sedan with the Megabuck unit hadn’t started, or gone anywhere.

  No cars passed the opening. Apparently no one was tailing them. “Wonder what our ACTION buddy is doing?” Rick mused. “He must be pretty upset about losing us twice in one day.”

  The follower they had spotted in the restaurant had picked them up again shortly after their return from the airport. He had watched while they had lunch, then trailed them to the hotel. There, the boys had separated. Rick, trying hard to act suspiciously, had drawn the man away from Scotty. Scotty had followed a devious route through a department store, another hotel, and a restaurant with multiple doors. When certain he was not being followed, he had gone to a sports store and purchased climbing boots, hammers and pitons, safety belts, ropes, and other gear.

  A taxi had driven him directly into the garage where the Mercedes was parked. Scotty put the climbing gear into the trunk, then went to the room to wait for Rick. After Rick’s arrival, the two had again taken a devious route and had lost the ACTION follower. Then they got the car out and headed in a direction opposite to that of the road to the chalet.

  Rick had been certain no one was following them. He took a long, roundabout route, following the map northeast to the city ofWinterthur , then to the town ofWil and south toBiitschwil . From there his route led west again, through towns with the names ofMosnang andMiihlriiti , up a fantastically steep and curving road, through a mountain pass where snowbanks were piled on the roadsides, and then downhill again on a road that would have made an inch-worm dizzy.

  The rock pit where Rick had stopped was only a short distance from the chalet. They had timed the trip to arrive in the late afternoon.

  “Guess all’s clear,” Rick said, and started the motor. He poked the Mercedes’ nose out cautiously, then headed for the stretch of road below the cliff on which the chalet was located.

  The moment the cliff came into sight Scotty had the glasses on it, covering every visible inch. The car dipped downward into the valley, and Rick drew to a stop under the cliff itself.On the side of the road opposite the cliff stood a thick patch of pine trees. Rick’s eyes searched for an opening. He found one where, at one time, loggers had evidently hauled out lumber. He drove into the opening, the Mercedes bouncing somewhat over the rough surface. Rick kept going until he found a glade among the pines into which he could back.

  “Stand by. I’m going to do a little reconnaissance,” Scotty said. “You might get the gear out of the trunk.”

  “Will do.”Rick turned off the motor and got out and stretched. He saw that the twists and turns in the road had put a heavy screen of pines between the car and the passers-by.

  He could see nothing in any direction except the deep green of pine needles and the brown of trunks and the carpet of needles underfoot.

  Satisfied with the spot he had chosen, he got the gear out of the trunk. He put on his new climbing boots and safety belt, with hammer suspended from its loops. He was inspecting the pitons, tempered steel spikes for hammering into the rock, when Scotty appeared silently through the trees.

  “All’s quiet,” Scotty reported. “Not a sign of life in any direction, including up.”

  “Don’t you suppose the people in the house guard the cliff?” Rick asked. He wasn’t at all sure they might not complete the climb only to walk into the hands of guards.

  Scotty shrugged.“Maybe, but probably not very carefully. That climb is no cinch. I

  doubt that they expect visitors to come that way.”

  “Guess you’re right,” Rick agreed. “Well, let’s get going.”

  Rick had found an old towel in the car trunk, which had been used for wiping grease.

  He cut it into strips and handed a couple of them to Scotty. “Better pad your hammer head. If we have to drive in any pitons, we don’t want the hammer to sound an alarm.”

  They completed their preparations: slinging coiled ropes from their belts, checking the rope snaps and belt loops, and finally suspending full canteens in place after taking a small swig.

  Rick’s heart was beating faster than usual. He had never admitted it, even to Scotty, but high places bothered him. He knew it wasn’t an unusual reaction, and it had nothing to do with cowardice. But he was determined to overcome it, or keep going in spite of it.

  There had been other adventures in which he and Scotty had climbed, and he had managed. This time would be all right, too. Just the same, he felt his nerves twitch in anticipation. “Let’s go,” he said.

  At the edge of the pines, the boys stretched out at full length and studied the cliff, comparing notes on various features. Step by step, they plotted the route to a point where the inward curve of the cliff blocked the terrain from sight. Beyond that point it would be “ad lib,” as Rick put it. Then, with a final glance in both directions, they trotted across the road to the base of the cliff.

  Rick took the lead. He snapped one end of the safety line to his belt and handed Scotty the other. Then, roped together, they began the ascent. The start was easy because centuries of falling rock had made a slope at the base of the cliff; but above the slope, the way grew steeper.

/>   Soon they were climbing almost vertically. The rock face was seamed and irregular, and Rick had little difficulty in finding handholds. He kept his eyes resolutely upward, knowing that a glance downward might mean vertigo and leave him clinging to the rock half paralyzed with fear.

  About one hundred and fifty feet above the initial slope, he found a small shelf that would provide a resting place. He called to Scotty to join him, and sat down. Now, with a firm ledge under him, he dared a look down. His stomach turned over and he shrank back as far as he could on the shelf. He kept his eyes focused on the distance after that, and saw that the sun was about to drop behind the peaks far away.

  Scotty joined him on the shelf and sat resting while he scanned the area with binoculars;

  then he leaned out and looked down at the route they had ascended. Rick watched him, wondering if his pal had any nerves at all. If so, he had never seen a sign of them.

  “Not bad so far,” Scotty commented. “It will get harder in another fifty feet, where the cliff slants outward.”

  “We’ll find a way,” Rick said. They fell silent, enjoying the brief respite.

  “We’d better get moving,” Scotty suggested finally. “There’s a long twilight in the mountains, but we have a long way to go, too.”

  “Okay.” Rick stood up and looked upward. He spotted a handhold and a foothold and went up. The next fifty feet were not bad, although once he had to traverse sideways for twenty feet before he found a route. But then they reached the start of the overhang.

  There was no way to clamphimself against the wall where the cliff tilted outward. Rick decided it was time to use the pitons. Holding to an outcropping of rock with one hand, he took a spike from his belt and poked it into a crack. Then, with the same hand, he took his padded hammer and drove it in. He had to be careful not to swing so hard that he loosened his grip. Then, taking their shortest rope, he secured it to the piton and used it as a safety line while he drove in another one slightly higher and to the left. Step by step, piton by piton, they made their way upward. It was hard, wearing work, and Rick’s arms ached. He kept on doggedly, even when the muscles in his right arm burned like fire from the constant swinging of the heavy hammer.

  At last they rounded the upper end of the outward incline. Rick drove four more pitons, secured his rope to the last one, and lay back against the rock with his foot looped into the safety line to support his weight. Scotty came up the rope and lay alongside.

  “That’s the worst of it,” Scotty said.“Easy going from here on.”

  Rick grinned, but there was little humor in it.“Easy for what?A mountain goat?”

  Scotty looked at him with concern. “Too tired to continue?”

  “Nope.But I don’t think it’s exactly easy from here on.”

  “Compared to that last stretch it is. It will be even easier than the stretch above the lowest slope, because the wall tilts inward more. We won’t have any problems until we get to the overhang at the top, and that can’t be more than twenty feet of hard climbing.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Rick said.

  “Okay. I’ll take the lead,” Scotty offered.

  Scotty hadn’t exaggerated. The climb was easier. Or perhaps it was that Scotty was more skillful in finding holds. Rick followed where his pal led, pleased with the speed they were making.

  The twilight faded slowly. Actually, the sun was not yet below the true horizon; it had only dropped behind the peaks. The sky was still light. Visibility was quite good.

  They reached a vertical section. Scotty stopped long enough to drive a piton for a handhold, then continued climbing upward. He took hold of an outcropping and tested it, but as he transferred his full weight to it, the wall cracked and the rock gave way in his hand.

  Rick heard his pal’s gasp and reacted instantly, belaying his safety line around the piton and taking up slack as Scotty fell. Rick grabbed for Scotty as he slid past and managed to hold long enough to take up all slack and throw a few half hitches over the spike. He asked hoarsely, “Are you all right?”

  “One skinned knee and an attack of heart failure,” Scotty gasped. “Just let me hang here for a few minutes.”

  “A good thing you drove this piton,” Rick said feelingly.

  “Funny,” Scotty replied in a whisper. “I drove it because I knew you were getting tired and I wanted to give you something solid to hang onto.” He reached upward on the safety line and pulled himself up again. “Have to keep going,” he said.

  “I’ll take the lead,” Rick stated. “You follow for a change. Come up with me and stand on the piton while I move ahead. I’m going to drive some more as we go.”

  “Okay. But make sure your hammer is muffled. We’d better keep voices down, too.

  We’re getting within earshot.”

  The way grew easier once more. It was getting darker rapidly now. This time it was true darkness, not just the sun dropping behind the peaks and leaving the cliff in shadow.

  Rick looked upward and estimated that they had another one hundred feet to go before they reached the final overhang. He speeded up as much as his aching muscles would allow, and made good progress. More and more, however, he depended on pitons. He could have found handholds, but he doubted his judgment in selecting them, knowing that much of the grip was gone from his fingers. Once he had to wait until Scotty joined

  him, to get more pitons from his buddy. He had used up his own supply.

  Rick estimated that darkness would overtake them just as they reached the bottom of the final overhang. That wasn’t good, he thought. An outward slope was no cinch under the best of circumstances. Yet, they had known it would be like this. They couldn’t very well arrive at the top of the cliff in daylight.

  “Just one bad move,” he thought, “and it will be curtains for us.” He had started, many feet below, to double loop his safety line over each piton or projection. There was nothing he could do but continue. Below him, he knew, Scotty had the safety line secured, too. Scotty moved only when Rick was in good position, safety line fixed securely. When Rick moved, Scotty stayed still, line held firm against a possible accident.

  Darkness fell a few minutes before they reached the final overhang. Progress slowed to a few inches a minute. Rick felt for handholds now, and drove pitons only a foot or two apart. Once he tied himself in place and rewrapped his hammer, because the cloth over the hammer face had worn through.

  Rick knew by touch when he had reached the overhang. He secured himself to the last piton, then tugged at the rope in a signal for Scotty to follow.

  Scotty climbed and joined him. Cautiously placing his lips close to Rick’s ear, he whispered, “I’ll take the lead. You stay here and keep the safety line secured. I’ll go over the top alone and find something to hitch the line to.”

  Rick whispered back, “Be careful. I’m afraid they’ll hear us driving pitons. He secured his end of the safety line to the piton, then took up the slack and made a couple of turns over the spike. Getting a good grip, he held up a hand and pressed Scotty against the wall.

  The boy groped upward and found a crack at maximum reach. He drove a piton, secured his line to it, and pulled himself up.

  Rick heard the tap of Scotty’s hammer as his pal drove another piton into place. It was a muffled thud, not too loud, probably not audible more than a few feet. A short time later Rick heard the tap of the hammer again, then a scraping sound. The scraping continued for a few minutes, then there was silence. But Scotty was still moving, he knew; the line in Rick’s hands continued to pay out. Then the line stopped . . . then started again . . .

  stopped . . . and jerked, in the signal to ascend.

  Rick found strength to brace his feet against the wall and go up hand over hand,

  walking up the wall in the approved manner. He rounded the bulge of the overhang, then used the safety line to pull himself along on his stomach until he felt Scotty’s hand on his shoulder.

  Scotty’s voice in his ear was faint.
“Welcome to the top,ol ’ buddy. Now flop down and let’s rest for a few weeks.”

  Rick said fervently, “I hear you talking!”

  CHAPTER XV

  The Chalet

  Scotty had stopped behind a screen of spruce. Rick stretched out flat on his back, secure for the moment in the knowledge that they could not be seen from the chalet, or even by any guard who might pass nearby.

  The climb was over. Rick knew they had been lucky. He reflected that the two of them could probably win a joint prize for the most foolhardy pair in recent history. Nowhere in their instructions from Steve were any orders, nor was even permission given, to risk their lives in obtaining information.

  He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of Scotty, stretched out beside him. Rick drifted off into a troubled sleep.

  He awoke from a dream of falling endlessly, every nerve in his body tingling. As he opened his eyes and looked up at the shadowed branches, he suddenly realized the meaning of the dream. They had climbed the cliff, but the job was only half done. The climb down still remained.

  Scotty whispered in his ear.“Just a thought. Suppose there had been dogs here?”

  Rick shuddered. “We’d better start looking,” he whispered back. “Remember that if we’re not at least partway down the cliff and under the overhang by sunrise, we’ll be spotted for sure.”

  “Let’s go,” Scotty answered. He turned on his stomach and crawled through the small stand of spruce. Rick followed, then drew parallel with Scotty as the boys came to a stop. They were at the edge of the spruce, looking out on the chalet.

  It was a low building, only one story high, with the low roof and long overhanging eaves of typical Swiss mountain construction. It appeared to be of weathered wood. A porch, well-protected by the overhanging eaves, stretched along the full length of the front of the chalet. Several windows, which at the moment were lighted, looked out upon the porch. Below the porch was a thick growth of shrubbery.