directions.
“Of course it is,” Stefano agreed. “No one was ever killed, because they respect the mountain. They know when to leave. Now, please, if your offer is to tell them of Mr. Bailey’s sad going, then do so. Otherwise I will do it, of course.”
“No,” Charles said quickly. “It’s better I do. And anyway, you need to make things ready for us when we can leave…if you think that after the next lull it will really get worse?”
“I do,” Stefano said with a slight nod. “I’m afraid I do. Thank you, my friend.”
Charles turned to go, but had gone no farther than a dozen yards when he saw Finbar coming toward him. He was walking with a slight limp, as if he had injured himself, and now his whole body was stiff.
Charles increased his pace. “Are you all right?” he said with anxiety.
“Yes, yes,” Finbar assured him. “I came to see if you needed assistance. Where is Stefano? Did you find Bailey? He is a most objectionable man but we can’t leave him behind.”
“I’m afraid we will have to,” Charles answered grimly.
Finbar did not understand. “No, Latterly, we can’t. I agree he is a most unpleasant creature, and I have no desire to see him again once we reach safety, but whatever he is, or is not, we are not people who leave anyone behind in a situation like this. I—”
Charles interrupted him. “He’s dead. I’m sorry to put it so very bluntly, but we haven’t time for pleasantries. Stefano thinks that after a lull or two the mountain may really blow. When we have the chance, we must make our way down the mountain toward the sea. We will have enough trouble walking all that way. It is several miles, and we have women…at least, Mrs. Bailey. I think she will not find it easy, and may need help. But we cannot take a dead body with us, even if we could free him from where he’s trapped.”
“I suppose you are quite sure he’s dead?” Finbar said, his face pale.
“Stefano is. But if you want to make certain for yourself, he’s in the outbuilding just back there.” He turned and pointed.
“Trapped?”
“Yes. A good part of the ceiling came in and one of the beams fell across his chest.”
“I see.” Finbar started moving again stiffly. He walked past Charles toward the outbuilding.
Charles turned and followed him. They went inside. It was exactly as Charles had left it, except that Stefano was not there.
“Oh dear,” Finbar said, regarding the body of Walker-Bailey splayed out on the floor. “Yes, I see what you mean. Excuse me.” He went over to the body and kneeled down beside it. He appeared to consider it for some time. He bent farther forward and looked very closely at the beam.
“If we try moving it, I think we may well bring more of the roof down on ourselves,” Charles said simply. “It all looks as if it could cave in with another shift of anything.”
Finbar looked up at the ceiling. “I think you are correct. But that is not what concerns me, Charles.” He said Charles’s given name as easily as if they had known each other for years. “Come here. I think you need to see this.”
Reluctantly Charles went several steps closer to the body. Without life in it, it looked rather smaller than it had a few hours ago, puffed up by self-righteousness and anger. Now there was nothing left at all, just a small, wiry man whose soul was already somewhere far off, leaving behind only emptiness.
“This,” Finbar said quietly. Even the mountain had fallen temporarily silent. There was no roar, no crack of rocks, as if it had also stopped breathing.
“What am I looking at?” Charles asked.
Finbar pointed to the pool of blood beneath Bailey’s head. It extended from the side of his head where it was matted on the scalp above the ear, right down to his shoulder on that side.
“Not a lot of blood for a scalp wound,” Finbar observed.
“Looks like a lot to me,” Charles said unhappily. “He must have been struck by the beam very