Murder on The Eiger Mountain
A Bill Holland's Challenge
William Dale Holland, A.K.A Billybuc, has issued a writing challenge, which can be found here: http://hubpages.com/literature/A-Writing-Challenge-Are-You-Up-For-It. I have included some names and stories of other Hubbers who took the challenge, at the end of the Hub.
Finding The Victim
The grey mist of burning air felt stifling, as they struggled down the dangerous Eiger. Six men went on that climbing trek -- three climbers, two porters and a guide -- but now one man was dead, and Clint must use all his energy to find out how he died.
Pulling out his special phone from the grey backpack his porter carried, Clint dialled base control and asked for a helicopter to take the dead man down. Parker was a messy sight. His own knife caressed his heart some six inches to the hilt and he was still clutching the suicide note when they found him, two hours later; twenty paces from the ridge.
Moving on this mountain was no man’s cup of tea. It took thirty minutes to walk just twenty paces, and the cold, white and merciless silence of the treacherous ridges, made it rather difficult to locate him. Yet find him they did; still left to ponder the mystery of how he had managed to stab himself, write a suicide letter to Jill, his missus, the paper still clutched beneath the fingers of his right hand.
Climbing down the mountain was both arduous and meticulous. Not as slow as going up, but they were schooled by the porters in the art of Poleh, Poleh (slowly, slowly), and knew what they had to do to survive. Clint, a former policeman and expert in forensics, felt that something was amiss.
Why was Parker so far away from the group? Why was he lying face down and where did he get the paper to write that suicide note? After all, the guide was carrying Parker’s backpack! The thought that one of the climbing expedition could be the killer did cross Clint’s mind and his heart almost froze with trepidation.
Down at base camp was an old, dilapidated and derailed train, in which Clint and company had left some of their first aid, emergency and other equipment. They had come for a six week expedition, and the surrounding trees and foliage had made this train unobtrusive, and a great location to rest undisturbed. It was to this seemingly abandoned shelter, that Clint now put his mind and visualised the computer he’d need for some research work on the dead man.
Abandoned Freight Train
After another six hours, Clint and company got to base and he headed to the old, disused, quaint-shaped coloured freight train, to collect his computer. Who was Peter Parker? Clint asked himself.
A quick search showed him that Parker was not only married, but also a woman’s man. He had a few girlfriends and one of them was definitely a beautiful blonde bombshell, who frequented the pages of his blog. There was another surprise! This blonde, Marie Casey, was married, and Peter Casey, the very man who was now a member of the mountain party, was her husband.
Clint jumped out of that freight compartment, looking around quickly to see if he could see the men who had descended the Eiger with him.
“Where is Casey?” he asked. The group looked around, no answer. Casey had slowly slipped away. Turned out that he was a licenced helicopter pilot, had planned the whole thing from scratch, had hidden a private helicopter in a disused barn some two miles away, and had now left the party of mountain climbers.
He was fit, but Clint was fitter. Asking the porters and guide to fan out in one direction, he followed some footprints beneath the grassy fields where sure enough, some fifteen minutes later, he found Casey preparing to take off in his private helicopter.
“Why did you kill him, Casey? “ Clint asked.
“He took my wife and used her.” Casey said tearfully, as if suddenly getting a weight off his shoulder. “Then he dumped her.” He continued.
“What happened to her, Casey?” Clint asked.
“She’s dead!” Casey began to cry most uncontrollably. “She was a mountaineer when he seduced her, and when she committed suicide, I brought her here, and buried her in this graveyard (pointing). The first of the three stones that you see is hers.”
“I’m so, so sorry.” Clint said solemnly. “I will definitely speak of your good record and absence of previous crime, when we get back.” Casey nodded.
“How did you do it?”
“I followed him to the toilet.” Said Casey. I wore gloves and stabbed him with his own knife. The letter was pre-written by me on my computer, which I then placed in his hand after I dragged him away from the kill.”
“You do know that you will have to come back with us, said Flint.”
“Yes, I’m willing,” said Casey. With that Clint pulled out his whistle, and summoned the other members of the expedition, to take them home.
As he was leaving the graveyard, Casey turned once more to look at his wife’s stone. He could swear that he saw the smiling figure of her silhouette, giving a cold nod of approval, for her husband’s deed.
-Manatita 9th September, 2016.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
Writing Challenges, what's their purpose?See results without voting
Some other noble efforts at Bill’s Challenge
- High on the Mountain: (a billybuc writing challenge entry)
Flash Fiction: A mountain man comes home - Bill's Challenge
- Conquering Savage Mountain
- Rescue Flame on the Mountain
Mole on a Mountain: A Short Story Response to Bill Holland's Writing Challenge
- The Darjeeling Trip And The Mystery Of Those Mountains: A Short Story
- The Mountain of Enlightenment- A Writing Challenge.
- Up the Mountain We Go: A Short Story by Author Jennifer Arnett
- Slumber Mountain: a Short Story Response to Bill Holland's Challenge
A Billybuc Writing Challenge--The Mountain of No Hope
- Lookout Mountain
The Legend of Whisper Mountain - My Response to Billybuc's Writing Challenge
- The Ghost Mountain Adventure (a short story)
Take That Mountain
- Sugar Mountain ~ a poem
Riding The Rails- Short Story - A Challenge by Bill Holland
- Rainbow Mountain - A Short Story
Memories of Glass Mountain – Flash Fiction Poetry - Accepting a Writing Challenge
- Mountain Creek Station
- Majestic Mountain
- Memories of Glass Mountain – Flash Fiction Poetry - Accepting a Writing Challenge. By Shyron E Shenko
Murder on The Eiger Mountain by Manatita
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