"Stop it, you booty!" Minx giggles. Then she stops climbing. Monk peers up past the delicious swells of her trim behind to see her shaking out her lavish curling hair, changing in color from red to reddish orange to reddish gold and back again. Maybe a hundred meters above the top of her gorgeous head is a faint glimmer of sunlight and the top of the shaft. Monk remembers this shaft. It’s on the Newark side of the Hudson. Another hour or so and they’ll be home.