Settling into the seat, Nancy heaved a sigh of contentment. She had wanted to take a trip some where. A day flight to Los Angeles and back was better than nothing. She was going to get her chance to meet Bess’s Mark, too, when the flight landed.
Linda walked slowly down the aisle to check everyone’s seat, and suddenly stopped right in front of Nancy.
“You!” Linda exclaimed angrily. “What are you doing on this flight?”
Chapter
Fourteen
SO THE JIG was up. Nancy slowly lifted her eyes, meeting Linda’s furious stare. But Linda’s gaze was focused past Nancy’s head on the person seated behind her.
“Hi, Linda,” a male voice said easily. “Something wrong with my taking a flight to L.A.?”
Linda drew a deep breath, said, “Of course not,” and attempted a smile. But Nancy saw the way she strode toward the galley, her steps jerky and agitated.
Nancy pretended to drop her magazine in the aisle. When she bent to pick it up, she twisted slightly and glanced backward. The man in the seat behind her was no one she had ever seen before.
Who was he? Another member of the smuggling gang?
Once in the air Nancy observed Linda. Twice she dropped a passenger’s cup, and when she served breakfast trays, her hands were so unsteady that the trays shook. If Linda hadn’t been the senior flight attendant, she would certainly have been fired, Nancy thought.
In the Los Angeles airport Nancy met Bess and Jennifer at Victory’s Mile High Room, a private room for employees of the airline and special frequent flyers.
“I saw Linda head in another direction, so we’re safe in here,” Jennifer said. “Come on, Nancy. There’s a restroom where you can change—it even has a shower.”
After washing and drying her hair, she changed out of Bess’s clothes and pulled on her own.
Feeling more like herself in the black cords and turquoise shirt, she rejoined the others and was introduced to a young man dressed in a black Victory uniform.
“This is Mark,” Bess said with a proud smile.
Mark pulled out a chair for Nancy. “What a transformation!” he said. “I saw you when you got on the plane.”
For some reason Nancy blushed. “I was—er— working undercover.”
Mark’s mouth twitched. Nancy was glad to see he had a sense of humor. “Bess said you were a detective.”
“That’s right. In fact, that’s why I called her to come to Seattle,” Jennifer put in. “Nancy’s the best.”
“Tell me all about you and Victory Airlines,” Nancy said encouragingly to Mark, hoping to get a fresh perspective on the case.
Mark was more than happy to tell her about his job and how he’d come to work for Victory. While he talked, Bess watched him with adoring eyes.
“Has either of you ever been in any kind of danger in the air?” Nancy asked Jennifer and Mark.
Jennifer shook her head, but Mark nodded. “Once,” he admitted. “We were flying through some really tough weather, and the hydraulic line to the rudder snapped. We lost pressure to the wings and brakes and had to make a flaps-up landing.”
“Flaps-up landing?” It sounded bad.
“Normally, when a plane approaches the runway to land, the pilot lowers the flaps on the wings. The flaps add drag and slow the plane down. As soon as the wheels hit the runway, the brakes are applied, and the plane gradually comes to a stop.
“In a flaps-up landing, with no brakes, the plane approaches the runway fast. As soon as the wheels come down and the plane lands, you just have to ride with it until it comes to a stop on its own.”
“What if you run out of runway?” Nancy asked.
Mark smiled. “That’s the problem. There aren’t many runways long enough to make that kind of landing. When the plane runs out of landing strip, it just keeps heading forward across a field or asphalt to whatever’s in front of it. You’d just better hope there’s nothing there.”
“Like other planes,” Nancy said.
“Or buildings.”
“Does Puget Sound Airport have a runway long enough to handle that kind of emergency landing?” Bess asked, the possibilities widening her eyes.
“The northeast runway is five thousand feet long. It’s the longest one we’ve got.”
Nancy recalled that that was the runway she had seen from the window of the restaurant Preston Talbot and Blake Maxell had taken her to. It was also the runway used for most of the jumbo jets.
The talk turned more general as they ate lunch in the Mile High Room. After dessert Mark, Jennifer, and Bess went back to the plane. Nancy’s flight took off a little later than the Victory flight. As she flew back to Seattle, Nancy went over the case in her mind and decided she’d like to talk to Linda alone.
Back in Seattle, near Victory’s counter, Nancy looked for Bess and Jennifer. But the first person she saw was Linda Cotilla. And Linda was in a furious conversation with Grant Sweeney!
Nancy ducked behind a pillar and tried to move closer to where Linda and Grant were standing.
As soon as she got within earshot, though, Grant suddenly stalked off. Linda stood still for several moments, then walked away in the other direction.
What’s going on? Nancy wondered. Did they see me?
As surreptitiously as possible she started after Linda, following her to the Vapor Trail Café. When Linda took a seat at a quiet table in the corner, Nancy slipped inside and stood in a sheltered spot by the counter. She wasn’t really surprised when Grant Sweeney strolled in and sat down in the seat across from Linda.
Nancy looked around. There was a half wall dividing the cafe into two sections. Vertical blinds ran from the top rail to the ceiling. Linda and Grant were on one side of the wall, and the table that backed up to them on the near side was empty. Casually Nancy walked to the table, slipped into the chair, and scooted it as far back as possible, hoping to hear their conversation.
She leaned toward the wall. Her heart began to pound when she heard Grant’s deep voice.
“It’s too risky to be seen together like this,” he was saying.
Linda spoke so low Nancy could hardly catch anything she said. Then Linda said something about “seven forty-seven.” Nancy sat bolt upright in her chair.
Grant Sweeney actually laughed. “Yeah, well, he thinks of everything.”
Nancy strained to hear Linda’s soft voice. She could only make out some of the words. “I want out! I saw Daw . . . on the plane. Don’t think . . . know what that means! I . . . go on much longer.”
“You should have thought of that earlier,” Grant said without sympathy. “You know what the man upstairs does to deserters.”
Linda’s voice was completely indistinguishable after that. Nancy thought she might even be crying.
But Grant’s voice came out cold and chilling. “Better be careful, or the boss’ll take care of you, too. You’ll end up at the bottom of a cliff just like Rod!”
Nancy sat transfixed, her hands gripping the edge of the table in front of her. Proof that Rod had been murdered!
Then Nancy heard chairs scrape back. She searched around desperately for an escape. If they see me now I’m done for! she thought.
Seconds later Linda walked out. Grant stood near the doorway. He seemed in no big hurry to leave.
If he looks back and spots me . . . Nancy agonized, turning her shoulder his way.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when a shadow fell across her table. “What are you doing in here?” Paul asked.
Nancy glanced up. Grant Sweeney was starting to turn her way.
Impulsively, Nancy threw her arms around Paul and gave him a big kiss. Several long seconds passed before Nancy dared to shoot a glance over Paul’s shoulder. But when she did, Grant was gone.
“Whew. That was close! Thanks for covering for me,” Nancy said, picking up her purse.
Paul was looking at her in total bemusement. He blinked rapidly several times. For once in his life he seemed to have absolutely nothing
to say.
“Look, I’ve got to go,” Nancy said hurriedly. “I’ll—I’ll explain later. And thanks again.”
“Does this mean you might accept my offer of a date?” he asked, but Nancy just smiled as she sidled past him and out of the restaurant.
She practically ran to the main terminal. Rod Fuller ton definitely had been murdered! It was something to tell the police! Nancy tried to decide whom to see first: Jennifer and Bess, Sean, or Preston Talbot.
“You know what the man upstairs does to deserters.”
Grant’s words hit Nancy like a thunderbolt. The man upstairs. Preston Talbot! Talbot’s office was on the sixth floor. Victory’s offices only went as high as the seventh. The man upstairs couldn’t be anyone else!
She turned blindly toward Victory’s counter. Celia was waving frantically for her to come over.
“I have a message Jennifer Bishop asked me to pass along to you.”
“A message?”
“Apparently a flu bug’s going around, and half the flight attendants are down with it. Jennifer and Bess have to work a late flight with a layover. They won’t be back until late tomorrow. The flight leaves in a few hours, so you’ll have time to catch them if you want.”
Nancy snapped back to attention. “They have to work another flight?” she asked in disbelief.
Celia nodded. “Sometimes it happens when we’re understaffed. Most of the time the flight attendants love it—they get paid time and a half. But I thought Jennifer and Bess looked pretty tired.”
Nancy asked, “Do you know who put them on that flight? Who arranged for them to fly out?”
“Blake Maxell, I suppose. He’s in charge of operations.”
Nancy felt marginally better. She had had a bad feeling about their change of schedule, but as long as Preston Talbot wasn’t involved, she couldn’t see how it would matter.
Not wanting to worry Bess and Jennifer, Nancy decided to see if Sean was still around. Though his shift was over, he sometimes stayed later.
She wound her way through the lower levels and opened the door to the baggage handling room. Grant Sweeney was inside putting on a slicker to go out into the soft drizzle.
Through the open doorway Nancy could see that a plane had just landed. The signal man was waving his scarlet beacons, bringing the plane to one of the nearest gates.
As Grant started walking back toward her, Nancy ducked out of sight behind the door. He rattled open the second huge metal door to the outdoors, then jumped into one of the truck and trailer rigs and headed outside.
One of the other baggage handlers appeared, also dressed in a slicker, and started running after him. “What are you doing?” he called to Grant. “I thought I was supposed to unload seven four seven.”
“We can unload it together!” Grant hollered back. “If we’re not finished up by the time the next flight comes in, you can start on that one while I finish this one.” Both men left.
Seven four seven. Nancy’s heart thumped unevenly? This was it! One of the flights used by the smugglers—and Grant Sweeney wanted to unload it!
I have to check that plane! she thought.
Looking around, Nancy saw several more slickers lined up near the back door. She raced over and snatched one off the rack. Quickly she pulled the black rubber cloak around her and over her head.
She walked into the rain, hugging the building as she moved around the corner to where Grant and the other handler were unloading flight 747. Under a darkened eave Nancy waited until both carts had been filled and the two men were driving their vehicles back to the loading area.
Now was her chance!
Nancy darted toward the plane and up the stairway. Although Grant and the other man would be occupied for a while unloading the cargo, she’d be pressing her luck to stay inside more than a few minutes.
“Of course there’s always the possibility that Grant unloaded the smuggled goods first,” Nancy muttered to herself. “No, not with the other handler there.”
Nancy searched anxiously, hoping for some clue. There were still so many packages and so much luggage! Minutes passed, and her search was fruitless.
She heard the baggage trucks coming back and glanced out the doorway. There was no time to escape. If they saw her on the portable stairway, she’d be a sitting duck.
Nancy backed away from the door into a dark corner of the compartment. She heard the men’s footsteps on the stairway. What if they found her? Could she bluff her way out? What would Grant do?
“Okay, let’s get this big stuff out of here first,” Grant said. “Start over here.”
They were near the door. Nancy sank down, accidentally knocking over a very small crate to her right—it started toppling toward her. She caught it silently, closing her eyes in relief.
Carefully she lowered the crate to the floor. She hardly glanced at it. But at the last minute something caught her attention.
Its point of origin was listed as Singapore. Nothing unusual in that, but as Nancy peered more closely she saw something written on one corner.
Her heart somersaulted. Written clearly in tiny numbers was the smugglers’ identifying mark: 747.
Chapter
Fifteen
NANCY WAITED UNTIL the two men had finished loading up their trailers again and the sound of the trucks’ engines had faded. Luckily one of the boards on the crate was loose and Nancy could pry it up.
Beneath the strawlike packing were several beautiful jade figurines. She dug deeper—and lifted out a Chinese vase!
It was nearly a twin to the one Rod had given Miranda. The scene was slightly different, but the colors were the same. Nancy was sure it was genuine Ming.
Quickly she gathered up the crate. She hurried toward the door, peeked out, and climbed down the stairway.
Now, where to go next? Nancy knew she couldn’t be caught with the stolen goods. She pressed herself against the wall and waited around the corner until Grant and the other baggage handler went back to unloading the plane.
Glancing inside the baggage handling room, Nancy saw that several more handlers had returned and were loading luggage. As nonchalantly as possible, she pulled the hooded slicker closer around her face and walked briskly across the room. What if one of the handlers called out to her?
But none of them did. She got to the other side of the room near the stairway without a problem. Shedding the slicker, she balanced the wooden box on her hip and held it in place as she headed upstairs. She had proof!
With a start, Nancy realized that she had bypassed customs. But Grant Sweeney, or whoever else was involved, couldn’t keep bringing boxes up from the baggage room without arousing suspicion. If the smuggling operation were as sophisticated as she suspected, there had to be another way.
Nancy raced up the last few steps, then opened the door to the outer terminal. She nearly dropped the crate when she heard someone call her name.
Sean was walking toward the door.
“I was just going downstairs to see if I could work an extra shift,” he said. “Since Jennifer’s on a flight, I thought I might as well work.”
Nancy didn’t waste any time with preliminaries. “Sean, you’ve got to help me,” she said.
His eyes slowly drifted to the box in her hands. “What’s that?” he asked.
“Evidence. Stolen merchandise, I’d bet. It came in on flight seven forty-seven and look—” She showed him the tiny numbers printed on the corner. “It’s filled with jade figurines. There’s even a vase like the one Rod gave Miranda.”
“How did you get hold of it?”
“I’ll tell you on the way to Talbot’s office. I want to go straight up there and confront him with the evidence.”
She was turning back for the elevator when Sean’s hand closed around her arm. “Nancy, get serious,” he said anxiously. “You can’t just accuse him and throw this in his face. He’ll do something drastic!”
Nancy knew that Sean was right. As she watched the elevator slowly d
escend to their floor, she said, “He needs to see me alone. If he believes I’m the only one who knows, he might feel he can do away with me and still be safe. He might even brag a little about his part in the smuggling ring.”
“You’re nuts,” Sean muttered. “Nancy, he can do away with you, and he will!”
The elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and Blake Maxell brushed past them with hardly a glance.
“That’s the answer!” Nancy said. “You go after Maxell and bring him to Talbot’s office. Stay outside and listen to what’s going on with me and Talbot. I’ll make sure the door’s left open a little. When Talbot starts talking, you guys rush in. I won’t be in any real danger.”
“I don’t like it,” Sean murmured, but when he saw how determined Nancy was, he turned to go after Maxell.
Nancy leapt into the elevator just as the doors started to close. Now, let Talbot be in his office, she thought grimly. This is no time to be chasing him all over the airport.
Outside the double doors to his office she took several deep breaths and knocked sharply, but all she heard was silence.
“He’s got to be there,” she said out loud. “He’s got to!”
At the far end of the hall the elevator bell chimed and the doors slid open. Sean and Blake Maxell came quickly her way.
“He isn’t there?” Sean asked, worried.
“I don’t think so. At least he doesn’t answer when I knock.”
“What’s this all about?” Maxell demanded, flicking back his sleeve to check his watch. “I’m on a tight schedule, you know.”
With an effort Nancy held her temper. “We believe Preston Talbot is the head of the smuggling ring. He’s using Victory Airlines to bring in stolen merchandise,” she said firmly.
Maxell only laughed. “Of all the ridiculous, slanderous accusations I’ve heard, this has got to be—”
“We have proof,” Nancy cut him off shortly. She handed the box to Maxell. “If you take this to the police and ask them to check out the items inside, I’ll bet my reputation as a detective they’ll find out it’s stolen merchandise.”