Icy Clutches

pipiens.' Again he closed his eyes and shook his bulky shoulders, consumed with his odd, silent hilarity. “The things that lay men low.'

John recrossed his legs and quietly sighed. He didn't think much of this heavy-footed posturing. He wasn't sure if the botanist was putting him down, or putting him on, or if maybe this was just some kind of standard routine he went in for. Whichever, it didn't make him like the man any better, or trust him, either.

'So what is that, some kind of bug?” he asked.

'Indeed, a mosquito of particularly nasty disposition. Apparently I'd been bitten several days before, and the bite had gotten infected without my realizing it. True, I wasn't feeling my best, but I flew out to Tirku with the others, determined to do my part. But when our exalted leader caught a glimpse of my wrist he said no. Despite my protestations, I was forced to remain down below on the beach, at the edge of the lateral moraine, while the others trekked across the glacier to the survey area.'

'You wanted to go with them?'

'Certainly. In the strongest imaginable way, but Audley was adamant.'

'The airplane had already gone back? Is that why you had to stay on the beach?'

'That's right. It was a seaplane. It was coming back for us later.'

'So you were on the beach when the avalanche hit?'

'Yes, wallowing in bitterness and self-pity.” He pursed his lips. “Of course, as it turned out, I suppose you could say I was lucky.'

'I suppose you could. What did you do when it happened?'

Judd seemed startled. “Do? What was there to do?” For the first time he treated a question as something other than a rich, juicy joke.

'You heard it, didn't you?'

'I saw it. In a general sense, I mean,” he added hurriedly. “I saw it sliding down the mountain. It was terrifying, unbelievable.” He sobered still more. “I didn't actually see it strike them, of course.'

'Did you go up and try to help them? Find them?'

It seemed to take a few seconds for the question to get through. Judd sat like a plaster Buddha, his smile frozen, his hands clasped motionless over his belly. Even his wheeze was suspended. The only sound was a soft thud from the stone fireplace. Someone had lit a fire hours before, but it had been allowed to go out. A few blackened remnants of logs still smoldered.

'Find them?” Judd said at last. He gave an incredulous snort. “I don't believe you have any idea of the colossal—of the—It was unbelievable, stupendous. And I was desperately ill. I—'

'Ill? I thought you wanted to go with them.'

'Well, I did, yes. But that had been hours before. They'd already done their reconnaissance and were on their way back when it happened. By that time I was feverish, weak...'

'So it turned out Tremaine was right about the bite.'

'Well, yes,” Judd said grudgingly, “you could say that. Anyway, the first search plane arrived in less than an hour. What was there for me to do besides stay where I was and wait?'

John could think of a few things, but kept his thoughts to himself. “Afterwards,” he said, “did you get medical care for those bites?'

'I can't remember,” Judd said. He seemed offended at the question. “Wait a minute, yes I do. I was treated at the hospital in Juneau. I was put on antibiotics for ten days. I'm sure there's a record. And now I think I have a right to know why you're asking these questions. If there's any relevance to Audley's death I fail to see it.'

'I'm not just looking into Tremaine's death, Dr. Judd. As I think you know, there's reason to think there was another murder—'

'Another...'

'—almost thirty years ago. We—'

Judd whistled softly. “Of course, of course. What with poor Audley, I'd almost forgotten. You're investigating James Pratt's death too, aren't you?'

John looked at him, his interest quickening. All he knew was that there was a piece of a male skull that had had an ice ax put through it. Gideon had said it could be Pratt's or it could be Steven Fisk's. Two possibilities, take your choice.

'What makes you think that was Pratt's skull?” he asked. “Well, whose else would it be?'

'What about Steve Fisk?'

'Steve Fisk?” Judd seemed honestly surprised at the idea. “I suppose it's possible, but...'

John waited.

'I don't like to pass on gossip,” Judd said with an unconvincing show of reluctance, “and I hesitate to speak ill of the dead...” Aside from M. Audley Tremaine, John thought. “Go ahead, Dr. Judd.'

'Very well. Were you aware that Steve was engaged to Jocelyn Yount, the female graduate student who was with us?'

John nodded.

'Well, Jocelyn was—how shall I put it?—a rather odd young lady. She was bright but extremely passive, compliant, almost childlike. No self-discipline, no judgment—and not constitutionally inclined toward, er, celibacy, if