Free Murder in the Winter by Steve Demaree Page B

from North By Northwest our good Father meant.
    Before Lou tapped me on the shoulder as I clutched the
tree and looked down, I noticed two sets of footprints on the snowy ledge.  One
set led to the cliff wall, the other followed the ledge as it sloped downward
and curved around the precipice. After I’d fallen, wiped out a few footprints,
and regained my senses, I realized that the footprints that led up against the
cliff actually disappeared inside an opening that looked much like a cave.  I
surmised that both sets of footprints were left by the same person as a ruse,
hoping to confuse us.
    I deduced that I had a slightly better chance of
living if I checked out the footprints leading into the cave rather than ones
that wrapped around the precipice like the grooves on a screw. I braced myself
against the side of the cliff, pulled my flashlight from my pocket, and shined
my light inside the cave. No bullets whizzed by my head. No angry bear charged
to see who had awakened him. I grew a little bolder and stepped into the
opening. I couldn’t see the back of the cave from where I stood. I reported to
the others what I had found and told them I would check to see where the
opening went. I asked George to send reinforcements if he heard sounds of
violence, or if we didn’t return within two minutes. Then, I motioned for Lou
to go first.
    The footprints disappeared almost immediately. I suspected
that the culprit stomped the snow from his or her feet, before entering the
cave, provided someone had actually ventured inside. Lou and I had to bend
slightly to step inside. The ground sloped slightly at first, but then leveled
out. After a few more feet, the pathway widened until it resembled a room with
no stalagmites or stalactites to be found. Hard dirt floors and walls and a
cool temperature, but warmer than the temperatures we faced outside.
    By the time our time was up, Lou and I had rejoined
the others. We had found three wooden staircases leading upward in various
directions. I asked George for six men, and asked him to lead the others around
the grounds to see if they could discover anything significant.  Not wanting to
be trampled to death, Lou and I stepped inside the cave as each man jumped to
the ledge. Each man leaped more gracefully than the two middle-aged men had. 
I   chalked that up to preparedness.  Each of them knew that he would be
jumping. I had been pushed by an offensive lineman.
    I had each man step inside the cave while I addressed
the group. One of the men who joined Lou and me was Officer Davis. It was time
to get even with him for what he had done to me. If he hadn’t beckoned me to
the edge of the cliff, I wouldn’t have found myself in such a predicament. I
instructed Officer Davis and another officer to follow the footprints that
hugged the cliff to see where they went. I motioned for the other men to pair
off and follow Lou and me inside the cave and six flashlights focused on the
path ahead. After a few steps, we stopped in the expansive area Lou and I had
found a few minutes earlier. Nearby, to our left, the first staircase rose from
the hard dirt floor. It was the steepest of the three staircases. Too steep for
Plump and Plumper. I chose two men, told them to take the staircase, but to
proceed with caution and venture forth as quietly as possible. The second
flight of steps sprang from the middle of the room, much like a beautiful
staircase in a stately home. I motioned for the other twosome to mount that
edifice. I stood and watched the first two teams go to work. A few seconds
before, our flashlights had merged. Now, as we headed off in three directions,
the lights more closely resembled a shotgun effect. Satisfied that both
twosomes would accomplish their tasks and report back to us in time, Lou and I
walked the remaining steps to the last flight of stairs. The gradual sloping of
the steps showed me that our climb would be the easiest of the three, but
logistics suggested that we would