Chapter 24: Take-Off

Chapter 24: Take-Off

The minutes just before take-off were a busy time for Gwen Meighen. First she had to welcome the passengers on board the plane. With her pleasant voice she tried to make the insincere words mean something. Then there were more important announcements to make, telling the passengers what to do in an emergency.

They had not yet reached the runway when Gwen finished these. She noticed that they seemed to be moving slowly tonight, and guessed that this was because of the snow and the heavy traffic. She could hear the wind blowing hard outside.

Her last announcement was the one she enjoyed making least. She had to tell the passengers that just after take-off the power of the engines would be reduced in order to lessen the noise they made. She told them that this always happened. It did not, as she knew. It was a dangerous thing to do, but Lincoln International had decided that planes which took off over Meadowood must do it.

She knew what Vernon thought about this rule. He called it stupid and extremely dangerous. Thinking of him, she smiled. There were so many things about him that she loved.

Looking out of the window, she could see the lights of another plane in front of them, and others waiting behind them.

She sat down and prepared herself for the take-off. As the noise of the engines grew, there was only one question in her mind- Vernon’s child and her own - should it live or die? How could anyone expect her to decide such a thing?

Although Gwen had told the passengers that power would be reduced after take-off to lessen the noise, Captain Harris had decided that it would be too dangerous to do this during the storm. The people of Meadowood might complain, but he would not risk his plane and the lives of his passengers. At least this was one thing that he and Vernon Demerest agreed about!

They had been lucky to reach the runway so quickly. The additional fuel taken on by Harris had not been needed. Now they were at the front of a long line of waiting planes, at the beginning of runway two five.

Two five was cut across by another runway, one seven, left. As he waited, Harris could see through the snow the lights of a plane about to land on one seven, left. It crossed their path, and immediately he heard the controller’s voice say: ‘Trans America Two cleared for take-off. Go now!’

He did not wait for a second. Above the airfield another plane was already approaching one seven, left.

The Golden Argosy burst forward along the runway and then up into the clouds. The beginning of the flight would be rough, but soon they would be up in the clear sky, flying above the storm.

Although Keith Bakersfeld was not controlling the take-off of Flight Two, he heard and recognized Vernon Demerest’s voice. Like Mel, Keith was not particularly friendly with his sister’s husband, although he had never quarrelled with him.

As he worked, he kept putting his hand into his pocket to touch the key to the hotel room that he had taken.

His thoughts of death were interrupted by Wayne Tevis.

‘Stop work for a few minutes,’ he told Keith. ‘Your brother is here to see you.

‘Hello,’ Mel said. ‘How are things?’

‘All right, I suppose.’

Mel had brought two cups of coffee with him. He was always thoughtful like that. Keith watched his own hand shake as he took the cup. Mel was shocked by his appearance. He had never seen his brother looking so tired and ill before.

Their father had been one of the first pilots. He had loved flying, and had been killed performing a daring trick in an air show. He had pushed his sons into a life in aviation, and perhaps, Mel thought, it had been the wrong thing to do to Keith.

He opened the door. ‘Come out for a moment, Keith. We’ll be able to talk more easily out here.’

When they were outside the door, he continued quietly. ‘You look ill, Keith, as I’m sure you know. Please be honest with me, and tell me what’s wrong. You look as if you need a holiday - or perhaps more than a holiday - from Air Traffic Control.’

Keith smiled at him for the first time. ‘You’ve been talking to Natalie.’

This was true. Mel wondered if Keith knew how lucky he had been in his choice of a wife. He had always been a little jealous of their relationship. He couldn’t help feeling that Natalie was a better woman than Cindy.

‘Keith,’ he said, ‘is it something to do with the accident at Leesburg? Is there something that you know about that crash that nobody else knows? Is that what’s worrying you?’

Keith paused for a moment before he answered, ‘Yes.’

‘Please tell me, Keith. Let me try to help you.’

‘No. I can’t.’

But why not? he thought. He was going to kill himself. Perhaps he should share his terrible secret with his brother before he died. They had always been very close to one another.

‘You know something about the accident,’ he began slowly, ‘but you don’t know everything.’

‘Go on. I’m listening.’

The words began to pour out in a flood. Suddenly Keith wanted very much to tell Mel that the accident had been completely his fault. He, and only he, had killed the Redfern family and ruined the lives of Perry Yount and George Wallace.

Without warning, a door opened. ‘Oh Mr Bakersfeld,’ a voice said. ‘Could you phone Ned Ordway? He’s been looking everywhere for you. So has Danny Farrow.’

Mel wanted to cry out, to shout for silence, or at least a delay. But it was too late. Keith had stopped talking immediately. He was alone again, and as lonely as before. He was sorry now that he had started to tell Mel his secret. It was better that it should die with him.

He went back to the radar room, and Mel knew that he would hear no more from him tonight. Mel himself had to talk to Danny Farrow and Ned Ordway. The police chief wanted to tell him that the Meadowood people were beginning to arrive at the airport. So far they had caused no trouble. But there was something else.

A policeman had found a woman wandering about the airport crying. She was unable to tell him what was wrong with her, and he hadn’t wanted to frighten her by taking her to the police station.

‘Then what did you do with her?’ Mel asked.

‘I left her sitting outside your office. It’s quiet there, and she can calm down and collect her thoughts.’

‘Is she alone?’

‘One of my men was with her, but he may have left by now. I’m sure she isn’t dangerous.’

‘I’m going back to my office in a few minutes,’ Mel said. ‘I’ll speak to her then.’ He hoped that he would have more success in helping this woman than he had had with his brother. He was still very worried about Keith.

‘Did you take her name?’

‘Yes, I’ve got it here. Guerrero. Mrs Inez Guerrero.’

---

Tanya Livingston cried, ‘You mean Mrs Quonsett’s on board Flight Two?’

‘I’m afraid so, Mrs Livingston,’ the ticket agent said.

He was in Tanya’s office. So was an extremely red-faced Peter Coakley.

‘I didn’t think she could get past me like that,’ the agent went on. ‘But, I was so busy that she did. I was doing the work of two people all evening.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Tanya said. She couldn’t blame him. In fact, she blamed herself.

‘She said that her son had forgotten his money, and that she wanted to go and give it to him.’

‘She often says that. It’s one of her many tricks.’

‘She sure can fool you,’ poor Peter Coakley said.

There was no doubt about it. Ada Quonsett was on her way to Rome. The flight had already taken off, and there were no stops. The old lady had won her battle against Tanya.

When Peter Coakley and the agent had left, Bert Weatherby, the Transport Manager, wanted to see Tanya. She had to take full responsibility for Mrs Quonsett’s presence on Flight Two.

‘Send a radio message to the captain and tell him what has happened,’ Weatherby told Tanya. ‘By the way, who is the captain?’

‘Captain Demerest.’

‘Oh no! He always loves it when other people make mistakes! Well, it was your mistake, and you must deal with it.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Tanya tried to tell him about her conversation with Standish, but Weatherby had heard enough already.

‘Forget it!’ he shouted. ‘Let Italian Customs deal with the man. It isn’t our problem.’

But Tanya couldn’t help worrying about the thin man with the small case.