Chapter 32: Vernon's Plan

Chapter 32: Vernon’s Plan

On board the Golden Argosy Captains Harris and Demerest were enjoying a good meal. They had exactly the same to eat as the first-class passengers, but without the wine, of course.

Suddenly, their meal was interrupted as a radio message came through. While Vernon wrote it down, his face changed. He passed it to Harris and Jordan.

There was only one sensible thing to do - turn in a wide circle that the passengers would not notice, and return to Lincoln International. Harris began to do this immediately. Vernon sent for Gwen.

‘What do you want?’ she asked as she came in. ‘If it’s more to eat, I’ll have to say no!’

‘We want you to look for a passenger,’ Vernon told her. ‘Look, you’d better read this message.’

As she stood by him reading, he watched her face. She looked serious, but not frightened. He remembered that she had told him that she loved him. He wondered whether he himself had ever really loved anybody. Perhaps what he felt for Gwen was the nearest that he would ever come to love.

For a moment he felt angry about the change in plans. They would not get to Naples now as quickly as he would have liked to. A second later he was the complete professional pilot once again, with thoughts only for his plane and his passengers.

‘Find this man, Gwen,’ he told her. ‘See how easy it would be to get the case from him.’

‘I’ve already noticed him,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t need to look again. He wouldn’t let me touch his case when I took him his dinner. Another reason I remember him is that he’s sitting next to our old lady stowaway. He’s between her and the window.’

‘That will make it difficult for us to get the case away from him.’

For the first time Vernon began to feel that they were in danger.

‘If only we could think of some trick,’ he said slowly. ‘Did you say that he’s next to our little old stowaway?’

‘Yes.’

‘And she doesn’t yet know that we know who she is?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Listen. I have an idea. It may work.’

---

Mrs Quonsett was just finishing her meal. ‘That was very nice, my dear,’ she said to the girl who had come to clear the empty meal containers.

Then she noticed another girl standing by her. She had black hair, an intelligent face, and strong, dark eyes. Mrs Quonsett had noticed her earlier.

‘Excuse me. May I see your ticket?’

‘Why, of course,’ Mrs Quonsett said. She knew what was happening, but she never gave up without a fight.

She pretended to search her handbag. ‘How strange! I simply can’t seem to find my ticket!’

‘Shall I look?’ Gwen said coldly. ‘If you have a ticket, I’m sure I’ll find it.’

‘Certainly not! My handbag is private. I shall find the ticket myself. You’re English, aren’t you?’ she went on. ‘How beautiful you make our language sound. My husband always used to say-’

‘Never mind about him. I want your ticket.’ It was hard for Gwen to be so rude and unpleasant to an old woman, but Vernon had told her exactly what she had to do.

‘I’m trying to be patient with you, my dear, but I really shall have to complain.’

‘Will you, Mrs Quonsett? You see, I know all about you. This isn’t the first plane you’ve got on without a ticket, is it?’

‘If you know all about me already, there’s nothing more I can say.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Mrs Quonsett’s musician friend asked, ‘Perhaps I can help.’

‘Are you travelling with this lady?’

‘No.’

‘Then this does not concern you.’

‘Are we going back to the airport?’ Mrs Quonsett asked.

‘You’re not important enough for that. We’ll deal with you in Rome.’

Gwen hoped that Guerrero was listening. She looked at him quickly, and felt a sudden icy fear.

‘Come with me,’ she said to the old lady. ‘The captain wants to speak to you, and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’

Mrs Quonsett was feeling rather frightened of the captain, so she was very surprised when he said ‘Hello!’ to her in a friendly voice.

‘Forget what happened just then,’ he told her. ‘I ordered Miss Meighen to be rude to you. That isn’t the reason I want to speak to you.’

Mrs Quonsett looked around. How exciting to see how a plane was flown! It would be another adventure to tell her daughter about.

‘Do you get frightened easily?’ the captain asked her.

What a strange question! ‘No,’ she said. ‘When you are as old as I am, there isn’t much left to be frightened of.’

‘We need your help, Mrs Quonsett,’ he told her. ‘I suppose you’ve noticed the man sitting between you and the window?’

‘Yes. He won’t talk to anyone. I think he’s worried about something.’

‘We’re worried, too. We think that he has a bomb in his case.’

This was exciting, but a bit frightening, too.

‘I suppose you want me to try and take the case away from him,’ she said.

‘No! Don’t touch the case. That would be very dangerous for us all. Now listen…’

When he had finished telling her his plan, she smiled. ‘Oh yes, I think I can do that,’ she said.

‘Why do you keep flying to New York as a stowaway? ‘Vernon asked her. She told him all about her daughter in New York, and how lonely she sometimes felt in San Diego.

‘If you can help us now,’ he said, ‘I promise we’ll give you a free ticket to New York and back, first class.’

Mrs Quonsett’s eyes filled with tears. How kind! What a dear, wonderful man!

---

Mrs Quonsett really was crying as Gwen pushed her roughly back towards her seat. ‘What a good actress I’m becoming!’ she thought happily.

‘Couldn’t you be less rough?’ one passenger asked Gwen.

‘Keep out of this, sir,’ she replied, knowing that Guerrero could hear her. Again, she felt a wave of fear at the thought of him.

As Mrs Quonsett’s friendly neighbour stood up to let her sit down, Gwen stood between him and his seat. Vernon was waiting behind the curtain between the first-class and tourist areas, ready to come in when his help was needed.

Still standing, Mrs Quonsett began to beg Gwen: ‘Please, ask the captain to change his mind! I don’t want to go to prison!’

‘I don’t give orders to the captain!’ Gwen shouted. ‘Now sit down!’

Ada Quonsett began to cry noisily. ‘Please take me home! Don’t leave me in a strange country!’

‘How can you be so cruel to this old lady?’ the musician complained to Gwen.

Gwen took no notice of him, but gave the old woman a hard push, so that she fell into her seat. ‘You hurt me!’ she cried. She turned to D. O. Guerrero. ‘Help me! Help me!’ He took no notice of her.

Crying and shouting, she threw her arms around his neck. He struggled with her, fighting to free himself, but she wound her arms around his neck more tightly. ‘Oh, help me!’

Red-faced and breathless, D. O. Guerrero put up both hands to push her away. As if to beg him for help, she seized them. In a second Gwen had reached over and taken the case from him. It had all been surprisingly easy.

Vernon hurried in. ‘Well done, Gwen. Let me take the case.’

That should have been the end of the whole affair. But it was not - and all because of a man called Marcus Rathbone.

He was an unpleasant man who always liked to criticize other people’s ideas, although he had never had a good idea of his own in his life. He was especially critical of women. When he saw a woman in uniform take a man’s case from him, he knew that he had to help that man. He seized the case from Gwen, and handed it politely back to Guerrero.

Like a wild animal, with madness in his eyes, Guerrero took it and held it tightly to him.

Vernon ran forwards, but he was too late. Gwen, Rathbone and the musician were in his way, and he could not reach Guerrero before he had pushed past them and was rushing down the plane.

‘Stop that man!’ Vernon shouted. ‘He has a bomb!’

Everywhere, passengers were jumping to their feet, shouting.

Guerrero stopped with his back to the toilets. ‘Stay away from me!’ he shouted.

‘Guerrero, listen to me! ‘Vernon called to him over the heads of the others. ‘Do you hear me? Listen!’

There was silence as Guerrero looked back at him, his eyes wild.

‘We know who you are,’ Vernon went on, ‘and we know what you’re trying to do. We know all about the insurance and the bomb, and they know about it back at the airport, too. That means that the insurance is no good. Do you understand? It’s worth nothing. If you die, you’ll die for nothing and your family will get nothing. Worse than that, they’ll be blamed and made to suffer. Think of that, Guerrero.’

A woman cried out. Guerrero paused.

Vernon knew that he had to keep talking, and hope that Guerrero would listen to what he had to say.

‘Guerrero, let’s all sit down. I’d like to talk to you. Nobody on this plane’s going to hurt you, I promise.’

Gwen was closest to Guerrero.

‘Try to get into a seat, ‘Vernon whispered to Gwen. ‘I may have to move quickly’

A man came out of one of the toilets behind Guerrero. At the sound of the door opening, Guerrero turned.

‘Get the man with the case! He’s got a bomb!’ somebody shouted.

Guerrero pushed past the man and ran into the toilet. Gwen had run after him, and she stuck her foot in the door as he tried to close it.

Guerrero had not really understood everything that had happened in the last few minutes, but he understood that, like so many other things in his life, his great plan had failed. His life had been a failure, and now his death would be a failure too.

As he pulled the string, he wondered bitterly whether the bomb would be another failure. In the last second of his life he learned that it was not.