J. B.

Resuming his study, Quinn saw that the bottom end of the axe shaft was clad in a round steel collar from which projected the steel spike that had stopped Sarron in his tracks. At the opposite end, there was an almost flat steel head that divided into a shallow triangular adze for digging and a long, almost straight pick with a row of serrations that ran partially along the bottom. The edges of both showed the axe had been well used. New silver scratches into the metal of the pick reminded Quinn of how it had arrested his own fall on the Second Step.

Around the wooden shaft was a tarnished steel ring that slid up and down. A small metal screw projected out from the wood about six inches above the bottom end to stop the ring from sliding off. He knew that the ring had once held some form of leather or canvas hand strap.

Beneath the neck of the axe was another ring, but this was made of a white cloth tape. The material was browned with age and exposure, fragile even if its knot was still tight. Quinn understood that it must once have been attached to some form of flag. It chilled him a little to think that the owner of the axe had anticipated reaching the summit.

He began to scrub the metal head of the axe with the dampened facecloth.

On one side of the long pick he identified a tiny serial number: DRGM No. 1496318.

Turning it over, he saw that an oval had been engraved into the metal on the other side. There was writing within it.

Quickly licking a fingertip, he rubbed at it. The spittle picked out the faint lines cut into the steel, darkening them against the dull sheen of the metal. He pushed the head of the axe up close to the bedside light. It read, “MODELL ASCHENBRENNER,” across the center of the oval. Arched under the top were the words “GARANTIE-PICKEL” and, beneath, “WERK FULPMES.”

To the left of the oval, Quinn noticed another, much smaller engraving. He wet his finger again and rubbed some more.

The tiny design revealed a faint line drawing of what he thought was a bird with outstretched wings.

A feeling of urgency took him, and, spitting directly onto the metal, Quinn continued to wipe at the faint incision.

It was a bird, a simple line drawing of an eagle. Its two wings were made up of four linear blocks, one stacked above the other to give a rigid, stepped shape that stretched out to either side. The head of the bird between the outstretched wings was looking to the left. Its square profile tapered into a sharply hooked beak. The small design was imperial, almost Roman at first sight.

The eagle was perched on a tiny circle. To the left of the circle was the letter Z, to the right the letters Fg. Within was an ancient Asian symbol with a much more modern European familiarity.

A swastika.