Maxell’s eyebrows drew together. “Where did you get this?” he demanded harshly.
“Off a flight that just came in from Singapore. Grant Sweeney’s in on the ring. So is Linda Cotilla. Preston Talbot’s the leader.”
Maxell looked dazed. After several seconds of silence, he said in an entirely different tone of voice, “I may have been too hasty in my judgment of you, Ms. Drew.” He pulled out his keys, fitted one into Talbot’s lock, and opened the door.
The office was empty.
“Where could he be?” Nancy asked, pacing the plush surroundings.
“Maybe he’s just gone home,” Sean suggested. “It is late, you know.”
Maxell walked over to the window, staring out into the dark night. “No, Preston’s probably still here. I saw him not too long ago talking to Linda Cotilla,” he said slowly.
“Did you hear any of their conversation?”
Blake turned away from the window, his expression sober and stern. “Linda mentioned the name Bess Marvin. And then Preston looked so odd. He headed down the concourse right afterward.”
Nancy’s blood ran cold. What were Linda and Talbot cooking up for Bess? “Sean,” she asked, “do you know which flight Bess and Jennifer are on?”
“I think it’s flight one ninety-one. It goes to Chicago and on to New York.”
“I’ve got to talk to Bess,” Nancy said. “I’ve got to make sure she’s all right!”
“What do you want me to do?” Maxell asked, still holding the small crate. “I’ve got a small problem to deal with right now.”
“Go,” Nancy said. “And thanks. We’ll check with you later.” As soon as Maxell left, Nancy added, “We’ve got to find out if Linda Cotilla’s on that flight with Bess and Jennifer!”
“You think she’ll try something?” Sean asked, alarmed.
“I don’t know. But I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”
“Come on downstairs,” said Sean. “We’ll check the crew schedule with the gate agent.”
They hurried to the end of the hall and raced down the stairs. Sean checked the monitor to see which gate Jennifer and Bess’s flight departed from.
“Gate forty-three. They leave in five minutes.”
“Quick. We’ve got to find out if Linda’s on that flight!” Nancy said, and Sean tersely told the ticketing agent to pull up the crew schedule on her computer terminal.
“The senior flight attendant is Linda Cotilla,” the ticketing agent informed them.
Linda Cotilla! Nancy turned to Sean. “Go get Maxell. Tell him we’ve got trouble. I’m afraid Linda might try to hurt Jennifer and Bess.”
“Okay.” Sean had already turned on one foot.
“What’s Maxell’s office number in case I need you?” Nancy asked quickly.
“I don’t know. It’s on the seventh floor, I think.”
“That’s right,” the ticketing agent spoke up, consulting her screen. “He just changed offices last year. Now he’s in room seven forty-seven.”
Chapter
Sixteen
NANCY COULDN’T BELIEVE her ears. “Room seven forty-seven?” she repeated.
“That’s right.”
“It’s Maxell,” Sean said. “Not Talbot. Maxell’s behind the smuggling ring!”
Over their heads, they heard the disembodied voice announce, “Last call for flight one ninety-one to Chicago and on to New York.”
“Sean, you’ve got to let the police know about Maxell,” Nancy said. “He’s got our evidence, and we just told him everything we know. It’s only a matter of time before he comes after us. He may have already ordered Linda to do something to Bess and Jennifer!”
Sean’s face was gray. “I’ll go call them right now. What are you going to do?”
“Try to catch that flight!”
Nancy didn’t waste any more time. She ran as fast as she could for the gate. The gate agent was just closing the doors as she arrived. Nancy grabbed his arm as he was shutting the door. “You’ve got to let me on board,” Nancy pleaded. “Please! It’s important.”
“I’m sorry, miss—”
Nancy yanked out her pass. “Preston Talbot expects me to be on that plane,” she said. “How will it look when I tell him one of his own agents was the reason I missed my flight?”
The gate agent opened his mouth to argue, then clamped it shut again, snapping up the hand-held intercom and speaking into it.
“They’re holding the plane for you,” he bit out. “Go on down.”
“Thank you.”
Linda Cotilla stood by the door as Nancy was admitted onto the plane. Linda’s lips parted, and her face went white.
Nancy didn’t say anything to her. And since she didn’t have a ticket, she picked a seat near the rear of the plane, next to the galley. There was no one else seated near her.
“Nancy!” Bess exclaimed, rushing up to her. “What are you doing here?‘
Nancy smiled grimly. “I had so much fun on my first flight, I thought I’d take another,” she said.
Bess gave her a worried look. “I can’t talk now—got to work. Fill me in later, okay?” she said. Then she went back to her duties.
Nancy watched out the window as the plane picked up speed. Its engines roared, and it suddenly lifted upward, leaving Seattle behind in a matter of minutes.
As soon as she could, Bess came back to Nancy. “What do you mean, you wanted to take another flight? Nancy, what’s going on?”
“All I can tell you is I’m sure now that Rod Fullerton was murdered. Linda Cotilla knows.”
“No!” Bess gasped.
“Shh! Listen, I got on this flight because I need to talk to her.” She didn’t add, And make sure she doesn’t harm you or Jennifer.
Bess looked too shaken to ask more questions. She walked back to the galley without another word.
It had been Blake Maxell all along, Nancy saw that now. He’d been the man behind the smuggling ring, not Preston Talbot.
A snack was served on the flight, and shortly afterward the lights were dimmed and passengers settled in to sleep. Nancy just stayed where she was, waiting.
There were very few people on board. The rear of the plane where Nancy was sitting was practically empty.
In the aft galley Linda Cotilla was stacking empty trays back into their slots. Her concentration was so intense that she didn’t notice when Nancy got up from her seat and leaned a shoulder against the galley doorway.
“Hello, Linda,” Nancy said.
“Oh!” The tray she had been holding clattered to the floor. “Look what you made me do! Go back to your seat and leave me alone!”
“I need to talk to you.”
“I’m busy,” Linda hissed, glancing fearfully past Nancy as if she expected someone to materialize.
“I know you’re trying to get out of the smuggling ring,” Nancy said. “And I know you’re scared to death.”
Linda’s lips quivered, but there was fire in her eyes. Her mouth tightened into a grim line.
“I’m here to break up the smuggling ring,” Nancy tried again. “The one you’re involved in.”
“Get out of here and leave me alone!”
“I know about your connection to Grant Sweeney and Blake Maxell. I know that shipments of stolen merchandise are being brought in on flights somehow designated with the seven forty-seven code. And I know Rod Fullerton was murdered, and that you think you’re next in line.”
Linda stared at Nancy through wide, terrified eyes. For a moment Nancy thought she might break down completely. Then she managed to pull herself together. “It’s too late,” she whispered and turned away.
“It’s not too late!” Nancy grabbed Linda by the shoulders and forced her to meet her gaze. “I can help you.”
“How?” There was resignation in Linda’s voice, as if she had faced all the possibilities already and knew there was no hope left.
“If you tell me how you got into this thing, and who all the principal players are, I
can do my best to get you a reduced sentence.”
Linda leaned against the counter, wilting. “Oh, what’s the use? He’s going to kill me anyway.”
“Maxell?” Nancy asked sharply.
“Yes. He’ll kill you, too.”
Nancy drew a deep breath. “We’ll see about that. Now tell me how you got into this thing.”
Linda sighed. “I wanted a promotion—and Blake Maxell was there, pushing all the right buttons. He told me he could guarantee I’d get everything I wanted if I’d just do a few simple things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Smuggling. In the beginning he needed someone who was trusted and well-known with the customs agents to bring stuff through. All the guys knew me and liked me. They hardly ever searched my bags.
“But then the organization grew and Blake came up with the idea of the seven forty-seven code. He thought it was really clever. And then, when they got Dawkins involved . . .” Linda shuddered. “He’s almost as bad as Blake.”
Dawkins? Nancy searched her memory, trying to place the name.
“Dawkins was the man on the flight to Los Angeles today?” Nancy asked.
Linda’s cheeks whitened. “He was a warning. A way to let me know Blake knew I wanted out.”
“And when Rod Fullerton wanted out, he was killed,” Nancy put in softly.
Linda shuddered.
“What kinds of things does Blake smuggle in?”
“You name it: jewels, art objects, any kind of contraband.”
“This Dawkins,” Nancy asked, “where does he fit in?”
Once again Linda looked over her shoulder. “Dawkins is Blake’s right-hand man. He tampered with Fullerton’s brakes, then drove him off the road. He’s also a customs agent at Puget Sound Airport.”
“A customs agent! Of course!” Nancy said. “That’s how the stuff gets through undetected.”
“Without Dawkins the whole operation’s in jeopardy,” Linda said. “He’s the key.”
“And Sweeney?”
“Sweeney straddles the fence. He’s had to do a lot of Blake’s dirty work, and I know he’d like to get out, too. But he’s like me—he’s in too deep.” Linda grimaced. “So now what? Are you going to turn me in when we land?”
Nancy thought furiously. “Sean is getting the police to take care of Maxell. I was so worried about Bess and Jennifer that I just jumped on the plane.”
Linda’s expression changed. “Why were you worried about Bess and Jennifer?”
Nancy quickly told her what Blake had said. “I got worried, thinking you and Talbot had cooked up something for Bess and Jennifer. At the time I didn’t realize it was Maxell, not Talbot, who was the man upstairs.”
Linda shook her head emphatically. “I couldn’t hurt anyone. I’ve been a nervous wreck. All I want is a good night’s sleep and to be able to look at myself in the mirror again without—”
She broke off suddenly, her eyes widening in horror. Nancy whirled around, expecting to see one of Blake’s henchmen bearing down on them. But there was no one in sight. Whatever Linda was seeping was entirely in her own mind.
Linda suddenly reached for Nancy, her hands clutching the folds of her shirt. “He’s planning something,” she said in a quavering voice. “Blake set this up. Don’t you see? He got Jennifer and Bess and me all on this flight and then baited the trap for you, too! He’s going to kill us all!” she said on a note of rising hysteria. Then she brushed past Nancy toward the front of the plane.
Nancy took three steps after her, the hair rising on the back of her neck. Blake had set a trap! Linda was right.
“Linda—” Nancy began, heading up the aisle.
Suddenly there was the loudest explosion Nancy had ever heard.
People started screaming. The plane shuddered crazily and dipped sideways. Nancy pitched forward and fell into the aisle, holding on to a seat. Then she heard an ear-splitting wrenching of metal. She glanced back. To her horror she saw the floor at the back of the plane crack open. Before she could take another breath, a gaping hole appeared—and the rear seats started falling out of the plane!
Then the plane went into a steep, spiraling dive. They were going to crash!
Chapter
Seventeen
NANCY CLUNG TO the nearest seat. The inside of the plane grew hazy and bitterly cold. Oxygen masks dropped from compartments above the seats. Passengers shrieked. Magazines and papers blew wildly around and funneled in a tornadolike rush out the hole.
“Remain seated,” the pilot’s voice said over the intercom. “Put on your oxygen masks. Make certain your seat belts are fastened. Bend over and hold on to your ankles.”
Nancy couldn’t see a thing. The plane’s nosedive continued. Bess and Jennifer, Nancy thought wildly, please be all right!
She recognized Mark’s voice next, calm and soothing. “We believe a bomb has gone off in the baggage compartment. The dive is so we can equalize pressure and keep the hull from buckling further. Please remain bent down holding on to your ankles. This is for your protection.”
Nancy could hear soft sobbing nearby, but the screaming had stopped. Her fingers had gone numb, and her lungs were bursting. She dragged herself to the nearest empty seat and put a mask over her face.
It seemed forever before the plane slowly leveled out. It was still too hazy to see, but Nancy buckled herself in, bent her head down, and grabbed her ankles.
Mark’s voice sounded over the intercom again. “We are returning to Puget Sound Airport. The tower has been alerted that we will be making an emergency landing.”
Nancy sat tensely. She had seen the hole in the fuselage. She knew how critical their situation was.
Blake Maxell did this! she thought. Risking innocent lives to save his smuggling operation!
When she felt the plane begin to turn, Nancy glanced out the window again. With relief she recognized the tower at Puget Sound Airport.
The plane dropped even lower. But instead of making for the runway, it circled the tower.
They’re checking for damage, Nancy thought. Her heart sank. The landing gear might have been damaged in the blast!
Her elbows dug into the armrests as the plane circled several more times. Then it suddenly straightened out and headed for a runway—the runway whose lights Nancy had glimpsed during their turns around the tower.
It was the runway stretching toward the dark waters of Puget Sound. The northeast runway.
Mark’s words from earlier that day came back to her.
“The northeast runway is five thousand feet long. It’s the longest one we’ve got. When the plane runs out of landing strip, it just keeps heading forward across a field to whatever’s in front of it. . . . You’d better hope there’s nothing there . . . in a flaps-up landing with no brakes you can imagine what happens. . . .”
Were they going to make a flaps-up landing?
They were approaching the landing strip fast— too fast. Nancy’s heart was racing. Her pulse was thundering in her ears. She felt the wheels bump down, and the plane bore forward with tremendous speed.
Instinctively Nancy braced herself for the crash.
The pilot was pumping the brakes; she could feel it But suddenly the plane surged forward again. Nancy knew what had happened. Hydraulic fluid in the lines to the brakes had been used up.
They were hurtling forward with nothing to stop them!
Then there was a tremendous bump. The plane rattled as if it would actually vibrate apart. Then it slowly came to a halt in the muddy field beyond the runway.
Nancy leapt from her seat. She struggled forward as Linda Cotilla came on the intercom. “Unbuckle your seat belts,” Linda ordered. “And come this way.”
White and shaking, Bess took her cue from Linda and pulled on the emergency exit over the left wing. Nancy yanked on the red handle over her wing, instantly inflating the rubber slide.
“Jump and slide,” Linda was saying over and over again, evacuating the passengers.
<
br /> Bess and Nancy did the same, hurrying the people out the exits.
“What’s that smell?” Bess said suddenly.
Nancy’s nostrils quivered. “Smoke!” she answered quietly. “Don’t panic. Get everyone out.”
They worked as fast as they could. Now every second counted. The bomb had started a fire, and it was spreading rapidly.
The pilot and Mark came out of the cockpit carrying an unconscious Jennifer, whose eyes were just fluttering open.
“Get out,” the pilot ordered. “We’ll bring Jennifer.”
Bess jumped first. Nancy followed. She whooshed down the slide and into the arms of waiting firemen who pulled her away from the plane. Then Mark brought Jennifer down, and Linda and the pilot came after them.
Emergency vehicles circled the plane, their lights whirling. Jennifer was leaning heavily on Mark’s arm, but when she saw Nancy, she rushed forward and threw her arms around her friend. “Thank goodness you’re all right! What happened?”
“Get back!” one of the firemen suddenly ordered, and Nancy and her friends sprinted for the terminal.
They’d just gotten inside when the plane exploded in a terrific ball of fire.
“Jennifer! Jennifer! Are you all right?”
Sean was running up to meet them. Jennifer threw her arms around him as he hugged her close. “Sean,” she whispered.
Nancy hated to interrupt their tender moment, but she had to know about Maxell. “Did you call the police?” she asked Sean.
“You bet I did, and Maxell’s in custody. Come on. The police are waiting for us in a private room. They want you to give them a full report.”
• • •
Later, as dawn was painting lavender streaks of light across the horizon, Preston Talbot walked up to Nancy.
“Are you finished with Ms. Drew yet, Detective Haggarty?” Preston Talbot asked. “I would like to thank her personally on behalf of Victory Airlines.”
Nancy yawned and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Talbot. But I had a little help from my friends, you know.”
“I guess we’re finished, Ms. Drew,” Detective Haggarty said, snapping shut his notebook. “You and your friends can go home and get some sleep.”