“What is it?” he asked.
I stared at the first page of the dossier, scarcely believing my eyes.
Paula said, “Vic, hadn’t we better decide what we’re going to do?”
“Do? Jack and I are going right after Anona. I want you to tell Mifflin about Sherrill. Get
him to come out to Maureen Crosby’s cliff house fast. It’s going to finish tonight.”
She stared at him.
“Wouldn’t it be better for you to see Mifflin?”
“We haven’t the time. If Anona’s at Maureen’s place she’s in trouble.”
Kerman leaned forward.
“What is all this about?”
I waved the dossier at him.
“It’s right here, and that lug Mifflin didn’t think it important enough to tell me. Since 1944, Anona had endocarditis. I told you they were trying to keep a cat in a bag. Well, it’s out now.”
“Anona’s got a wacky heart?” Kerman said, gaping at me. “You mean Janet Crosby, don’t you?”
“Listen to the description they give of Anona,” I said. “Five foot; dark; brown eyes; plump. Work that out.”
“But it’s wrong. She’s tall and fair,” Kerman said. “What are you talking about?”
Paula was on to it.
“She isn’t Anona Freedlander. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“You bet she isn’t,” I said excitedly. “Don’t you see? It was Anona who died of heart failure at Crestways! And the girl in Salzer’s sanatorium is Janet Crosby!”
III
We stood at the foot of the almost perpendicular cliff and stared up into the darkness. Far out to sea a great red glow in the sky pin-pointed the burning Dream Ship. A mushroom of smoke hung in the night sky.
“Up there?” Kerman said. “What do you think I am—a monkey?”
“That’s something you’d better discuss with your father,” I said, and grinned in the darkness. “There’s no other way. The front entrance is guarded by two electrically-controlled gates, and all the barbed wire in the world. If we’re going to get in, this is the way.”
Kerman drew back to study die face of the cliff.
“Three hundred feet if it’s an inch,” he said, awe in his voice. “Will I love every foot of it!”
“Well, come on. Let’s try, anyway.”
The first twenty feet was easy enough. Big boulders formed a platform at the foot of the cliff; they were simple enough to climb. We stood side by side on a flat rock while I sent the beam of my torch up into the darkness. The jagged face of the cliff towered above us, and, almost at the top, bulged out, forming what seemed an impassable barrier.
“That’s the bit I like,” Kerman said, pointing. “Up there, where it curves out. Getting over that’s going to be fun: a tooth and fingernail job.”
“Maybe it’s not so bad as it looks,” I said, not liking it myself. “If we had a rope…”
“If we had a rope I’d go quietly away some place and hang myself,” Kerman said gloomily. “It would save time and a lot of hard work.”
“Pipe down, you pessimistic devil!” I said sharply, and began to edge up the cliff face. There were foot and handholds, and if the cliff hadn’t been perpendicular it would have been fairly easy to climb. But, as it was, I was conscious that one slip would finish the climb and me. I’d fall straight out and away from the cliff face. There would be no sliding or grabbing to save myself.
When I had climbed about fifty feet I paused to get my breath back. I couldn’t look down. The slightest attempt to lean away from the cliff face would upset my balance, and I’d fall.
“How are you getting on?” I panted, pressing myself against the surface of the cliff and staring up into the star-studded sky.
“As well as can be expected,” Kerman said with a groan. “I’m surprised I’m still alive. Do you think this is dangerous or am I just imagining it?”
I shifted my grip on a knob of rock and hauled myself up another couple of feet.
“It’s only dangerous if you fall; then probably it’s fatal,” I said.
We kept moving. Once I heard a sudden rumble of fall-ling rock and Kerman catch his breath sharply. My hair stood on end.
“Keep your eye on some of these rocks,” he gasped. “One of them’s just come away in my hand.”
“I’ll watch it.”
About a quarter-way up I came suddenly and unexpectedly to a four-foot ledge and I hoisted myself up on it, leaned my back against the cliff face and tried to get my breath back. I felt cold sweat on my neck and back. If I had known it was going to be this bad I would have tried the gates. It was too late now. It might be just possible to climb up, but quite impossible to climb down.
Kerman joined me on the ledge. His face was glistening with sweat, and his legs seemed shaky.
“This has cooled me off mountain climbing,” he panted. “One time I was sucker enough to imagine it’d be fun. Think we’ll get over the bulge?”
“We’ll damn well have to,” I said, staring up into the darkness. “There’s no other way now but to keep going. Imagine trying to climb down!”
I sent the beam of the flashlight searching the cliff face again. To our left and above us was a four-foot-wide crevice that went up beside the bulge.
“See that?” I said. “If we got our feet and shoulders against the sides of that opening we might work our way up past the bulge.”
Kerman drew in a deep breath.
“The ideas you get,” he said. “It can’t be done.”
“I think it can,” I said, staring at the walls of the crevice. “And I’m going to try.”
“Don’t be a fool!” Alarm jumped into his voice. “You’ll slip.”
“If you want to try the bulge, try it. This is my way.”
I swung off the ledge, groped for a foothold, edged my hand along the cliff face until I got a grip and started up again. It was slow and difficult work. The hazy moonlight didn’t help me much, and most of the time I had to feel for handholds. As my head and shoulders came level with the bottom of the crevice the knob of rock on which I was standing gave under me. I felt it shift a split second before it went and I threw myself forward, clawing at the rock bed of the crevice in a frantic effort to get a hold. My fingers hooked into a ridge of rock and there I hung.
“Take it easy!” Kerman bawled, as hysterical as an old lady with her dress on fire. “Hang on! I’m right with you!”
“Stay where you are,” I panted. “I’ll only take you down with me.”
I tried to get a foothold, but the toes of my shoes scraped against the cliff face and trod on air. Then I tried to draw myself up, pulling the whole of my weight with my fingertips, but that couldn’t be done. I managed to raise myself a couple of inches and that’s as far as I got.
Something touched my foot.
“Take it easy,” Kerman implored below me. He guided my foot on to his shoulder. “Now, give me your weight and push up.”
“I’ll push you down, you fool!” I panted.
“Come on!” His voice shook. “I’ve got a good grip. Slowly and steadily. Don’t do anything suddenly.”
There was nothing else to do. Very cautiously I transferred the weight of my body on to his shoulder, then transferred my finger grip to another ridge where I had a better hold.
“I’m heaving,” I panted. “Right?”
“Yeah,” Kerman said, and I felt him brace himself.
I heaved with my arms and shoulders and slid up and on to the floor of the crevice. I lay there, panting until
