‘Tom!’
He looked up and saw that Carson was apparently waiting for an answer to a question.
‘Sorry, skipper.’
‘Didn’t you notice the delay on the computer reaction?’
Saxon shook his head.
‘I did,’ interposed Danny Macmillan. ‘I thought I was dreaming but I thought there was a sluggish response with our last course change.’
‘We’d better try a sample course change and watch the readings,’ suggested Carson.
They were at a thousand feet moving parallel to the Capital Beltway, the ring road which encircled Washington. Saxon fed a course change to the west, towards Capitol Heights, and switched on the timing response device.
‘I make it a full second out, skipper,’ he said, checking the figure.
Carson bit his lip.
‘Once more,’ he said. ‘Try switching back to the original course.’
Saxon did so.
‘Yes; a full second out.’
‘Okay, okay,’ muttered Carson. ‘Try the course change on the second computer channel.’
Again Saxon punched the figures in. This time the response was immediate.
‘Secondary channel working fine, skipper.’
‘Right,’ there was relief in Carson’s voice. ‘Switch to secondary channels. Danny, will you go and find Van Kleef and, if he is with anyone, diplomatically tell him we have a problem and its nature.’
‘Sure, skipper.’
*
Badrick was sitting with a worried expression in Maclaren’s stateroom. Both men had taken the opportunity for a private conference while the President and British ambassador were being conducted to the upper observation lounge by Samantha Hackerman. The worried expression sat on Badrick’s face like a wreath at a funeral.
‘So what’s the score, Harry?’ he grunted moodily. ‘How is Terrasino making out on this sabotage business?’
The last forty-eight hours the Albatross has been wrapped up tighter than a drum. Christ, what with Terrasino’s men, the FBI and the President’s secret service men, there is absolutely no way anything can happen to the Albatross. You can’t go to the john without a couple of security men sharing the can with you.’
‘But we still haven’t caught this maniac?’
Terrasino is giving us as good a security coverage as he can manage,’ replied Maclaren.
Badrick pulled out a Corona-Corona and lit up.
‘Sure, I know that Terrasino is a sound man. Incidentally, how’s Art Stein and the back-up crew shaping?’
They’ll be ready for the Transatlantic flight.’
‘Excellent. I am going to authorise the commencement of training for three more crews on the strength of the initial reports. And, just between ourselves, once the Transatlantic trip is out of the way the board is going to authorise the building of two more freight airships.’
Maclaren smiled broadly.
‘That’s good news. But it’s early days. We must walk before we can run.’
Badrick waved his cigar.
‘Yeah, I know. I’d be a damned sight more happier if we could nail this mad bomber.’
Maclaren shot Badrick a vindictive glance.
‘Well, so far the press haven’t latched onto the entire story. But the reports which have managed to leak out have been harmful enough.’
‘Well, let’s hope Terrasino can nail this creep soon.’
*
Oscar Van Kleef looked up from his instruments and gazed at Danny Macmillan with a thoughtful expression.
‘There is a slight power surge on the primary computer circuit, nothing positive but enough to throw out the timing by … ‘ he glanced at his gauge ‘ … point eight nine of a second. My guess is there’s an exposed wire touching somewhere.’
He turned and began stripping off the casing of the primary computer circuits. Macmillan helped him.
‘You reckon the electricians haven’t wired up properly?’ he asked.
‘Could be, but the delay would have showed up before now,’ mused Van Kleef.
It was Macmillan who saw it first. A tool-precisioned piece of piping which was almost an exact replica of the one Kurt Nieman had discovered. It was six inches long and an inch in diameter with a timing device, circuits and battery. A wire from the battery was attached to the power supply for the primary computer terminal. Van Kleef stared at it with disbelief on his face.
Macmillan reached for the inter-ship telephone and told Carson.
‘Don’t touch anything, Danny,’ snapped Carson. ‘I’m on my way down and I’ll get hold of Terrasino and that FBI man — Hayes.’
Macmillan and Van Kleef didn’t have long to wait before Carson came in and took a brief look at the device.
‘How is it wired to ignite?’ he demanded.
Van Kleef shrugged.
‘I don’t know. So far as I can see, it isn’t.’
‘What do you mean?’ Carson snapped. ‘I can see one wire from the battery twisted onto the computer terminal.’
‘Right, and the juice from the battery is what is creating the slight power surge to the computer and throwing it out of timing,’ replied Van Kleef. ‘But I can’t see how any juice is getting to the timing mechanism to ignite the bomb.’
Carson was considering the problem when Terrasino and Hayes joined them. Both men looked pale and worried.
It was Terrasino who confirmed Van Kleef’s theory that the bomb was not armed. He untwisted the wire connected to the computer terminal and withdrew the device. Underneath was a note. It was written on plain white typing paper with the characters printed in black ink, neat and very precise.
‘Understand,’ it read, ‘that I can destroy the Albatross at a time of my own choosing. Only my intense patriotism forbids me to destroy it while the President is on board. I could do so. I will not. You have already forced me to destroy human life. I did not want to do so but you have ignored my previous warnings. Ignore this, my final warning, at your peril. The Albatross will be destroyed unless you give up this blasphemous project. Max Prüss.’
Terrasino whistled slowly.
‘I’d better see what we can do about prints. Not that I expect he’s left any,’ Hayes said morosely, taking out a plastic bag to deposit both device and note in.
Van Kleef was staring accusingly at Terrasino.
‘How can this happen? You are supposed to be chief of security, yet this mad bomber is running rings round you? How can he plant a device like this when you are supposed to be saturating this ship with security?’
Terrasino gazed evenly at the outraged chief designer.
‘Because the mad bomber is not only very clever but he is highly placed in Anglo-American … he is one of us.’
Van Kleef’s jaw dropped as he stared at Terrasino in astonishment.
Carson was also staring at Terrasino in surprise.
‘Doesn’t that make it easier to nail him?’ he said after a pause.
‘Don’t worry,’ replied the security chief slowly, still gazing at Van Kleef. ‘We’ll nail him soon.’
The inter-ship telephone buzzed and Carson picked it up.
It was Tom Saxon.
‘We are turning south over Silver Spring, skipper. I thought you’d want to know.’
‘Okay, Tom. Will you carry out a check on the primary circuit now? It should be clear.’
‘Roger, skipper.’
Carson replaced the telephone and looked thoughtfully at Terrasino.
‘If this madman had triggered that bomb … ’ he said slowly.
‘Thank God he only meant it as a warning,’ interposed Macmillan.
Terrasino nodded and plucked at his lip.
‘Yeah; but as he says, it is the final warning. We’ve got to find the bastard quickly … and we will.’
Chapter Twelve
Janine Renard turned over in bed to face Jacques Barjonet.
‘Why do you work for my husband?’ she asked.
Barjonet bli
nked his eyes, yawned and smiled sleepily.
‘Why do you live with him?’ he countered.
He grunted as she gave him a light punch on the shoulder.
‘Don’t answer a question with a question,’ she admonished.
Barjonet reached towards the bedside table for a cigarette and lit up. He and Janine had been spending the night in his cottage just outside Carentan on the flat Cotentin Peninsula. The cottage had belonged to his parents, a refuge during the holidays for the family had lived in Paris. Now his parents were both dead and Barjonet had made the cottage his home, travelling down to St. Lô each day by car. He propped himself up against the pillows and exhaled.
‘Why do I work for Renard?’ he mused aloud. ‘Because, at the moment, he is the only person who can offer me what I want.’
‘What do you mean, Jacques?’ frowned Janine, nestling into the crook of his arm.
‘I’ve dreamt of piloting an airship ever since I was a kid,’ Barjonet replied. ‘Flying machines is alright but flying an airship … that’s something different. That’s why I go hot air ballooning most weekends, ma biche. It gives me a tremendous sense of freedom, that freedom of floating free in the air, not having to rely on speed and machinery to keep you airborne.’
She smiled at his enthusiasm.
‘I know exactly what you mean, darling. Last weekend, when we went gliding, it was fantastic. I haven’t enjoyed myself so much in years.’
Barjonet turned an abruptly serious face to her.
‘But once this transatlantic flight is over, I shall be resigning from the project, ma biche.’
‘Why?’ she asked in astonishment.
‘Because I have found something I want even more than being captain of an airship.’
She could not pretend to misunderstand.
‘Sooner or later your husband will find out about us,’ went on Barjonet. ‘I will save him the trouble of getting rid of me.’
‘What makes you so sure that he will find out about us?’ demanded Janine.
‘Because, ma biche, I am in love with you. I do not want you to be simply my mistress. I want you to be my wife.’
Janine stared hard at him.
‘You are not joking, Jacques? You mean it?’
‘I am very serious.’
She gave a half-sob, half-laugh and reached up to hug him.
‘You will leave Renard?’ He spoke quietly. ‘You will ask for a divorce?’
She nodded eagerly.
‘When?’ he demanded.
She pursed her lips in thought.
‘I shall not tell him face to face,’ she said, after consideration. ‘You don’t know what he’s like, Jacques … how ill-tempered and nasty he can become.’
Barjonet smiled.
‘I work for him, Janine. I know.’
‘Well, I shall wait until he is away and then I shall simply pack my bags and leave. I’ll get my father to tell him. He won’t dare try to intimidate my father. I shall go down to my villa at Fréjus and when you come back from America you can join me there until we decide what to do. I think we need to be away from Normandy and Charles until things are sorted out.’
‘Won’t Charles follow you to Fréjus?’
‘The villa there is mine. My father gave it to me. It is nothing to do with Charles. I shall make sure my father warns him not to come near me.’
Barjonet nodded.
‘You think he will be unpleasant?’
‘Perhaps; he can be very nasty at times, especially when his plans are thwarted. But if I tell my father everything he will make sure Charles does not trouble us. Charles is scared of my father.’
‘Renard is a snob. He has dropped several hints about the high position your father has in the government and how well-connected he is.’
‘Charles is certainly a social climber,’ agreed Janine. It was the first time she had ever voiced her real opinions about her husband. ‘I didn’t realise how much he was using me until after our marriage.’
‘Why did you marry him?’
She frowned.
‘I suppose because he was attractive, because he was so different from everyone I knew, because he was full of ambition and promised an exciting life.’
A silence suddenly fell between them.
‘What will you do when you leave the airship project? Aviation is your whole life.’
Barjonet lit another cigarette.
‘It will be enough that I have captained the Charles de Gaulle on its first major flight. After that … well, there will be other airship companies. Once people recognise that airships are the transport of the future, there will be others who will start developing and building dirigibles. They will need experienced pilots.’
‘You say that the first flight of the Charles de Gaulle will be next Monday?’
Barjonet nodded.
‘Renard has let it be known to a few of us that when the airship takes off, he plans to make the Transatlantic run. He hopes to steal a march on the Americans.’
Janine was surprised.
‘You mean Charles plans to fly straight to New York without any preliminary test flights?’
‘So Renard has not spoken to you about this?’ asked Barjonet. Janine shook her head, and he sighed. ‘Renard is a little crazy, a little ruthless, but he might succeed in giving the Charles de Gaulle a place in history.’
‘Won’t it be dangerous?’ she asked.
‘Dangerous?’ he smiled broadly. ‘No more dangerous than doing a series of short-distance test flights.’
Janine sighed.
‘I suppose Renard has a flair for these things. It will be an important achievement for him to beat the Americans.’
‘And for me to be captain of the airship that does so.’
Janine suddenly sat upright.
‘The flight of the Charles de Gaulle will be the beginning,’ she said solemnly.
‘Eh?’ frowned Barjonet.
‘When Charles sets off on the flight then that will be the time I shall choose to leave him. So, my darling, when you return from America you will find me in Fréjus … and we can start our new life together.’
Barjonet chuckled.
‘What is it?’ demanded Janine.
‘I should be grateful to Renard. He has provided me with the two things I wanted most in my life … the captaincy of an airship and the woman I love.’
Janine reached across and kissed him.
‘Let’s make the most of our time, darling. Charles will be in Paris until this evening. He’s at some aviation conference there.’
*
Garry Carson was whistling a tune as he turned his Cord along by Edward Payson Park and braked before his house. He was feeling particularly pleased with the performance of the Albatross. He let himself into the house and stopped short. There were half a dozen suitcases in the hallway. He was looking at them when Helen came to the door of the lounge. She had her coat on.
‘Hello, Garry.’
Her voice was quiet. Only her hands twisting over her bag betrayed the tenseness in her body.
Carson said nothing. He sensed what was coming.
‘I was waiting until you came back before I left … ’ she began. ‘I … I am leaving you, Garry.’ Her words suddenly erupted in a torrent. ‘I have to leave you. The marriage hasn’t worked out. It never worked out. We tried for too long, ignoring the problems. Now we both have to make fresh starts. I … well, I’m going to stay with some friends. After a while, when things are more settled, when we can see things in perspective, we can meet … talk about a divorce … ’
Carson said nothing. He just stood staring at her.
Strangely enough, he realised, he was not surprised. He had been half-expecting Helen to make some move like this for at least a couple of months. The tension had been growing almost unbearable.
‘Well, say something,’ Helen said nervously. His face was an expressionless mask.
‘What do you want me to say?’ he finally replied.
‘What is there to say?’
‘Garry, we’ve known each other a long time; too long not to feel emotional now it’s over. We were good friends once. Our mistake was getting married. It was a mistake, a bad mistake. But can’t we remain friends still?’
There was a pleading note in her voice.
Carson saw it as a sign of weakness. He felt a cold, bitter anger surge through him.
‘No, Helen. You want me to make things easy for you. That’s not my style. I loved you. We had good times together. I’m not just going to say “goodbye and good luck” and leave it like that.’
‘Garry, there’s nothing you can do. It’s foolish to think there is.’
‘Maybe so. Maybe not. I guess you’ve been playing around with someone behind my back. Well, you’d better pray that I don’t find out who the bastard is.’
He turned abruptly and went out, slamming the door.
Helen stared after him for a while, her lips trembling. She did not really want it to end this way, with bitterness and hostility. Yet, perhaps, it was inevitable. She had her own survival, her own happiness, to consider. Slowly, she began to carry her cases out to her car.
*
The reception for those attending the International Aeronautical Association’s Technical Symposium on Airship Travel was in full swing in the Hôtel Central des Écoles. To call it a reception, however, was rather ridiculous, thought Sir Ashley Ashton as he peered around the crowded room. The Symposium was over and this was really the final party for those who had survived the four days of boringly predictable papers on various aspects of airships, from the economic problems of running freight airships to their technical construction. Now the grey-bearded professors, earnest would-be designers, aviation company directors and aviation enthusiasts were gathering to swap gossip and get drunk. It was always the way, year after year. Ashton wondered why he bothered to attend — he always did. It was a tax write-off and a good excuse to spend a weekend in Paris visiting his favourite restaurants and picking up the latest aviation gossip. It was an important way of finding out what was going on in the world of aeronautical design.
Airship Page 24
