Sex, Lies & Serious Money

13

Stone and Dino were having dinner at P.J. Clarke’s, Viv being out of town on business, as she frequently was.

“How’s your new client the rich kid doing?” Dino asked.

“Pretty good, by his own account. He’s actually enjoying himself at Flight Safety, which I always find to be a grind. He even likes the flight simulator, which I detest.”

“Can you really learn to fly in a simulator?”

“You can learn to fly the simulator,” Stone said. “It doesn’t handle exactly like an airplane, but the cockpit layout and the avionics are identical, and the view out the windows is cities, fields, and airports, which are pretty realistic. It’s good for testing your judgment and learning to make quick decisions.”

“Better you than me.”

“He’s got less than a week to go, and he’s not in the least discouraged. I was tearing my hair out at that point. And when he finishes there, he’s going to start flying his airplane with a mentor pilot aboard. Pat Frank arranged that for him.”

“How about you? I haven’t seen you with a woman for a while. That’s unlike you.”

Stone laughed. “Sometimes you’re lucky, sometimes you’re not.”

Laurence Hayward finished his last simulator session and went back to the instructor’s office, where he filled out some paperwork.

“You did well,” the man said. “Better than most owner-pilots. Don’t try to do too much in the new airplane, until you’re feeling confident in it, and don’t start feeling confident too soon. And listen to your mentor pilot.”

Laurence glanced at his watch. “He should be waiting downstairs for me. Are we about done?”

“About,” the man said, signing a document and handing it to him. They shook hands, and Laurence went downstairs and found a tall, thin man of at least sixty to be the only person in the waiting room.

“Laurence Hayward?” he asked.

“I am.”

“I’m Don McEvoy,” he said. “Pat Frank sent me to mentor you. Sit down for a minute, and let’s talk.”

Laurence sat down.

“Where do you envision flying the next couple of weeks?”

“To Teterboro this afternoon, overnight there, pick up my girlfriend, then to San Francisco tomorrow morning. After that we’ll improvise.”

“Okay.”

Laurence’s iPhone went off. “Excuse me. Hello?”

“Laurence, it’s Mom.” She sounded funny.

“Mom, are you all right?”

“Not really. Derek had a heart attack this morning — it was too early your time to call you — and he’s having an emergency triple bypass as we speak. His doctors are very optimistic about the outcome.”

Laurence knew that bypass surgery was routine these days, but he was immediately worried about his mother. “I’m so sorry. What can I do to help? Do you need anything?”

“I need you,” she said. “Can you fly over tomorrow?”

“Hold on a moment, please.” He turned to Don. “Change of plans. I’d like to fly to London tomorrow. My stepfather has had a heart attack and surgery.”

McEvoy shrugged. “We can do that. I’ll set up flight handling with Pat Frank. We’ll just go east instead of west, via Newfoundland.”

“Mom? I’ll be there tomorrow night. Are you at the London house?”

“Yes. I’ll have Wanda get your room ready.”

“Have her get the adjoining room ready, too. I’m bringing a girl — her name is Theresa Crane.”

“All right. Hold on, here’s the doctor.” She covered the phone and spoke to someone for a couple of minutes, then came back. “Derek came through the surgery just fine. He should be able to go home in three or four days. I’ll take him to the country for his recovery.”

“That’s wonderful. I’ll see you late tomorrow night. Don’t wait up, I’ll use my key.” He said goodbye and hung up. “Where will we land?” he asked Don.

“Did you fly the London City approaches in the sim?”

“Yes, I took the international course.”

“We’ll land there, but if you’re staying a few days, I’ll find somewhere else to park the airplane, and I’ll make my own living arrangements.”

“Good, west of London would be best.”

“Got it.”

Laurence called Theresa.

“Hello, there. What time are you getting in?”

“Not until tonight sometime. Do you have a passport?”

“Yes.”

“Bring it. We’re flying to London tomorrow. Bye-bye.” He hung up.

Theresa stared at the telephone. “Hello?” She hung up. “Well,” she said to herself, “that was abrupt, but exciting.”

—

“Let’s go look at the new airplane,” he said. The two men got into Don’s rental car and drove to the Citation Service Center. The airplane was there, gleaming in the afternoon sun.

“Let’s do a quick walk-around, and we’ll get out of here. I’m already filed for Teterboro.”

“Okay.” Laurence stowed his bags in the forward luggage compartment and followed Don as he walked around the airplane, checking gauges and the levels of fuel, oxygen, and hydraulic fluid. He showed him how to connect the airplane’s main battery, then they got into the cabin and closed the door. Laurence took the left seat and looked around him. All was familiar from his first flight on the Cessna airplane and from the simulator. He worked his way through the checklist, with Don making helpful comments, then started an engine and cranked up the air-conditioning. Then, with both engines running, he got clearance from the tower and permission to taxi.

Ten minutes later, they lifted off the runway and headed east, with the setting sun behind them.

A little after nine PM, Laurence set down the airplane gently on runway 19 at Teterboro, and taxied to Jet Aviation, where his newly rented hangar space awaited them.

At the terminal he ran through the shutdown checklist and flipped off the battery switch. Silence greeted them for the first time in nearly four hours.

“My car is waiting for us,” Laurence said. “I’ll put you up for the night.”

“What time do you want wheels-up tomorrow?”

“Nine AM?”

“Sounds good.”

At the Fairleigh, Laurence found a note from Marge on his pillow: everything was fine — she’d see him in the morning.

Laurence ordered them some food, and they ran through the flight procedures for their flight to St. John’s and London the following day. He called Theresa; she was out, so he left a message, asking her to be ready for pickup at sixty-thirty AM, then he fell into bed and went immediately to sleep.