Collected Short Stories Read online

  He stopped and looked back suspiciously.

  “Caroline thinks I’m ready to join you,” I explained, “but I’m not so sure and would value a second opinion. I’ve broken my own record for the B-slope several times, but I wouldn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of my wife.”

  “Well, I—”

  “I’d ask Marcel if he were here. And in any case you’re the best skier I know.”

  “Well, if you—” he began.

  “Just this once, then you can spend the rest of your vacation on the A-slope. You could even treat the run as a warmup.”

  “Might make a change, I suppose,” he said.

  “Just this once,” I repeated. “That’s all I’ll need. Then you’ll be able to tell me if I’m good enough.”

  “Shall we make a race of it?” he said, taking me by surprise just as I began clamping on my skis. I couldn’t complain; all the books on murder had warned me to be prepared for the unexpected. “That’s one way we can find out if you’re ready,” he added cockily.

  “If you insist. Don’t forget, I’m older and less experienced than you,” I reminded him. I checked my skis quickly because I knew I had to start off in front of him.

  “But you know the B-course backwards,” he retorted. “I’ve never even seen it before.”

  “I’ll agree to a race, but only if you’ll consider a wager,” I replied.

  For the first time I could see I had caught his interest. “How much?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing so vulgar as money,” I said. “The winner gets to tell Caroline the truth.”

  “The truth?” he said, looking puzzled.

  “Yes,” I replied, and shot off down the hill before he could respond. I got a good start as I skied in and out of the red flags, but looking back over my shoulder I could see he had recovered quickly and was already chasing hard after me. I realized that it was vital for me to stay in front of him for the first third of the course, but I could already feel him cutting down my lead.

  After half a mile of swerving and driving he shouted, “You’ll have to go a lot faster than that if you hope to beat me.” His arrogant boast only pushed me to stay ahead, but I kept the lead only because of my advantage of knowing every twist and turn during that first mile. Once I was sure that I would reach the vital newly marked route before he could I began to relax. After all, I had practiced over the next two hundred meters fifty times a day for the last ten days, but I was only too aware that this time was the only one that mattered.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see he was now about thirty meters behind me. I began to slow slightly as we approached the prepared ice patch, hoping he wouldn’t notice or would think I’d lost my nerve. I held back even more when I reached the top of the patch until I could almost feel the sound of his breathing. Then, quite suddenly, the moment before I would have hit the ice I plowed my skis and came to a complete halt in the mound of snow I had built the previous night. Travers sailed past me at about forty miles an hour, and seconds later flew high into the air over the ravine with a scream I will never forget. I couldn’t get myself to look over the edge, as I knew he must have broken every bone in his body the moment he hit the snow a hundred feet below.

  I carefully leveled the mound of snow that had saved my life and then clambered back up the mountain as fast as I could go, gathering the thirty flags that had marked out my false route. Then I skied from side to side replacing them in their correct positions on the B-slope, some hundred meters above my carefully prepared ice patch. When each one was back in place I skied on down the hill, feeling like an Olympic champion. Once I reached the base of the slope I pulled up my hood to cover my head and didn’t remove my snow goggles. I unstrapped my skis and walked casually toward the hotel. I reentered the building by the rear door and was back in bed by seven-forty.

  I tried to control my breathing, but it was some time before my pulse had returned to normal. Caroline awoke a few minutes later, turned over, and put her arms round me.

  “Ugh,” she said, “you’re frozen. Have you been sleeping without the covers on?”

  I laughed. “You must have pulled them off during the night”

  “Go and have a hot bath.”

  After I had had a quick bath we made love, and I dressed a second time, double-checking that I had left no clues of my early flight before going down to breakfast.

  As Caroline was pouring my second cup of coffee, I heard the ambulance siren, at first coming from the town and then later returning.

  “Hope it wasn’t a bad accident,” my wife said as she continued to pour her coffee.

  “What?” I said, a little too loudly, glancing up from the previous day’s Times.

  “The siren, silly. There must have been an accident on the mountain. Probably Travers,” she said.

  “Travers?” I said, even more loudly.

  “Patrick Travers. I saw him at the bar last night. I didn’t mention it to you because I know you don’t care for him.”

  “But why Travers?” I asked nervously.

  “Doesn’t he always claim he’s the first on the slope every morning? Even beats the instructors up to the top.”

  “Does he?” I said.

  “You must remember. We were going up for the first time the day we met him, and he was already on his third run.”

  “Was he?”

  “You are being dim this morning, Edward. Did you get out of bed the wrong side?” she asked, laughing.

  I didn’t reply.

  “Well, I only hope it is Travers,” Caroline added, sipping her coffee. “I never did like the man.”

  “Why not?” I asked, somewhat taken aback.

  “He once made a pass at me,” she said casually.

  I stared across at her, unable to speak.

  “Aren’t you going to ask what happened?”

  “I’m so stunned I don’t know what to say,” I replied.

  “He was all over me at the gallery that night, and then invited me out to lunch after we had dinner with him. I told him to get lost,” Caroline said. She touched me gently on the hand. “I’ve never mentioned it to you before because I thought it might have been the reason he returned the Vuillard, and that only made me feel guilty.”

  “But it’s me who should feel guilty,” I said, fumbling with a piece of toast.

  “Oh, no, darling, you’re not guilty of anything. In any case, if I ever decided to be unfaithful it wouldn’t be with a lounge lizard like that. Good heavens no. Diana had already warned me what to expect from him. Not my style at all.”

  I sat there thinking of Travers on his way to a morgue, or even worse, still buried under the snow, knowing there was nothing I could do about it.

  “You know, I think the time really has come for you to tackle the A-slope,” Caroline said as we finished breakfast. “Your skiing has improved beyond words.”

  “Yes,” I replied, more than a little preoccupied.

  I hardly spoke another word as we made our way together to the foot of the mountain.

  “Are you all right, darling?” Caroline asked as we traveled up side by side on the lift.

  “Fine,” I said, unable to look down into the ravine as we reached the highest point. Was Travers still down there, or already in the morgue?

  “Stop looking like a frightened child. After all the work you’ve put in this week you’re more than ready to join me,” she said reassuringly.

  I smiled weakly. When we reached the top, I jumped off the ski lift just a moment too early, and knew as soon as I took my second step that I had sprained an ankle.

  I received no sympathy from Caroline. She was convinced I was pretending in order to avoid attempting the advanced run. She swept past me and sped on down the mountain while I returned in ignominy via the lift. When I reached the bottom I glanced toward the engineer, but he didn’t give me a second look. I hobbled over to the first-aid post and checked in. Caroline joined me a few minutes later.

  I explained