Chapter 7
As the stretcher-bearers reached the top of the path in semi-darkness and driving snow, they were blinded by camera flashes and the arc lamps mounted on top of television cameras. Batard was waiting for his men on the observation terrace and had to fend off the jostling reporters who were all shouting questions and trying to shove dictaphones and furry microphones under the stretcher bearers’ noses.
The gang of rescue workers who had been bringing up the rear, helped him by surging forward and linking arms to form a safe corridor for the stretcher party who were making their way to the train. Batard saw the stretcher safely onto the train, had a few words with his men, then made his way back to the Montenvers Hotel, where Ross was waiting.
Louisa Dulac’s body had been found around noon under two feet of snow, roughly half way up the Charpoua Glacier, not far above the refuge hut where Philippe had nursed Alice. Louisa had been carried down onto the glacier during the night by an avalanche from her former resting place, high on the mountainside, where she had lain buried, undisturbed and frozen in the snow for three months.
A yellow Labrador named Miel had first detected her. He’d been working his way up the glacier in near blizzard conditions with his owner, Christian Lochet, a mountain guide from Chamonix, when he’d caught a faint scent of her under a freshly deposited mound of snow. He’d snuffled and pawed at the spot to indicate that there was something there until his master noticed and went over with his pole. Carefully probing the pile of snow, Lochet had soon found there was an area about the size of a human body where his pole would only go a little way in. He’d dropped to his knees and had dug the snow away by hand until he’d uncovered Louisa’s frozen corpse.
After that, he’d used his whistle to attract the attention of the other searchers, and together, they’d signaled for a stretcher to be brought up and had loaded her onto it, after first wrapping her in a red blanket.
Ross had heard the news on Jacques Batard’s radio along with everyone else who was crowded into the Montenvers Hotel. When the news came, there had been a mass exodus from the hotel and a stampede to the observation terrace, but they need not have rushed. It had taken the stretcher-bearers followed, by the rest of the search team, nearly three hours to bring Louisa up to the terminus.
Ross had been asked by Batard not to come to the observation terrace, and had been happy to comply with the Captain’s request. Instead, he’d gone to his comfortable room on the top floor of the hotel, from where he could see the action both through his window and on the television. As the stretcher came into view, he stood at the window and raised his brandy glass in a toast. ‘To you, my dear,’ he said aloud, before gulping down the neat liquor. After that, he turned the television off and sat down quietly to wait for Batard.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Ross called, ‘Come in.’
Jacques Batard opened the door and walked into the room with his hat in his hand and a somber look on his face. ‘Well Monsieur, that is that. My men are taking her down to the hospital now. I am very sorry.’
Ross was giving his best impression of a man devastated by bad news. ‘Did you see her?’ he asked quietly.
‘Yes Monsieur.’
‘How did she die?’ Ross asked earnestly. ‘She didn’t suffer at all, did she?’
‘From what I could see, Monsieur,’ Batard said gently, ‘she must have fallen. Her head and face are badly injured.’
Ross buried his face in his hands and wailed, ‘Oh my God.’
‘Please Monsieur, I do not think she would have suffered.’
‘But how could it have happened?’ Ross pleaded, ‘Why did it happen?’
‘All we can think is that Madame must have decided to follow the path up the glacier and that she slipped and fell.’
Ross considered this for a moment then said, ‘So you are saying it was just a simple accident, an act of God?’
‘Yes, Monsieur, sadly we have many such accidents in the mountains every year,’ Batard said, shaking his head.
Ross made a great display of sobbing into his hands for a while longer, then looked up again and asked, ‘What happens now?’
‘Madame’s body will be taken to the mortuary at the hospital in Chamonix.’
‘Will there be an autopsy?’ Ross asked.
‘No Monsieur, that will not be necessary. A doctor will carry out a brief examination, write a report, then sign the death certificate, that is all.’
‘Thank God for that,’ Ross sighed. ‘I wouldn’t want her mutilated any more than she has been already.’
‘I understand Monsieur. Do not worry, in cases like this where the cause of death is obvious and there is no suspicion of anyone else being involved, we do not request an autopsy.’
‘When will I be able to take her home?’ Ross asked. ‘I’d like to get her away from here as soon as possible.’
‘As soon as the doctor has made his report and you have signed all the necessary paperwork, she can be released to you. We will try to get it all done tonight so you can take her first thing in the morning,’ Batard said.
‘I would be very grateful,’ Ross said with a brave smile.
‘There is just one other thing, Monsieur.’
A spasm of fear went through Ross. ‘What’s that?’ he asked, outwardly calm.
‘You must make a formal identification of the body.’
Ross relaxed and said, ‘Of course, I was forgetting. When do you want me to do that?’
‘As soon as you can, Monsieur. The doctor can not complete the death certificate without it.’
‘I’ll just pack up my things here and go straight down to the hospital then,’ Ross said. ‘Better to get it over and done with.’
‘Quite right Monsieur. I actually need to be there myself when you make the identification, so why don’t you go back to the Jardin du Mont Blanc and I will pick you up from there in about two hours, say at six?’
‘Six would be fine,’ Ross said. ‘I’ll be waiting.’
Batard saluted and was halfway out of the door when he stopped and turned back saying, ‘Oh, I nearly forgot!’ He came back into the room looking rather embarrassed and shut the door. ‘I hate to mention money at a time like this, but what arrangements have you made for paying the reward?’
‘The reward?’ Ross asked blankly.
‘Yes Monsieur, the reward you offered for finding Madame.’
‘Oh yes, I’d forgotten all about that,’ Ross said. ‘I’ve lodged the money with the Credit Agricole des Savoie bank in Chamonix. If you give me the name of the chap who found her, I’ll phone an authorization through, then he can go along and pick it up.’
‘Thank you Monsieur, I will write his name down for you. When can I tell him to go to the bank?’
‘I’ll phone them straight away,’ Ross promised. ‘He can go any time.’
Batard wrote Christian Lochet’s name on a piece of paper torn from his notebook, then saluted again and was gone.
As soon as the door was closed, Ross stood up and locked it, then he got his cell phone out. First he called the bank and gave them Lochet’s name and the authority to release the money. He thought it better to get that settled before he forgot it, because he didn’t want any trouble from Batard. The next call he made was to Alex, who was by now back in London. He answered it on the first ring.
‘We’re in business,’ Ross said simply.
‘Yes, I know, I’ve just been watching it on BBC News twenty-four, they were showing it live. Where did they find her?’
‘Exactly where I thought she would be,’ Ross said triumphantly, ‘half way up the glacier.’