So What Happens To Me?

Three

Wes Jackson stood in the doorway of my cabin like an undersized King Kong, but not all that undersized. He was around 6 ft. 5 ins., massively built and around thirty-two or three years of age. He had a turnip-shaped head that sat on his vast shoulders without suggesting he had any neck. His small nose, his small mouth and his small eyes struggled to survive in a sea of pink-white fat. His jet-black hair was close cropped. He wore heavy black shell glasses that slightly magnified his sea-green eyes. He was immaculately dressed in a blue blazer with some fancy badge on the pocket, white linen slacks and some club tie pinned to a white shirt with a large gold tie pin.

‘Mr. Crane?’

The tiny mouth went through the motions of a smile: the sea-green eyes, like points of ice picks dipped in green paint, moved over me.

I knew at once this man was a natural born sonofabitch and I would have to handle him with care.

‘That’s correct,’ I said and waited.

He moved his bulk into the cabin and closed the door.

‘I’m Wesley Jackson. I take care of Mr. Essex’s affairs.’

I nearly said that must be nice for him, but instead I said. ‘Is that right?’

‘That’s right Mr. Crane. Mrs. Essex asked me to come here and thank you for finding her horse.’

‘How is she?’

He edged further into the room and slowly settled himself in a lounging chair. It creaked under his weight.

‘She had quite a fall, but you know about that.’ He shook his turnip head, and his fat face expressed sorrow. ‘Well, she could be worse. Slight concussion, but nothing really serious.’

‘Fine. When I saw her come down I thought she had broken her back.’

He winced.

‘Happily no.’

He crossed one enormous leg over the other and seeing that he was making himself comfortable, I took a chair opposite him.

‘It was very thoughtful of you, Mr. Crane, to go searching for her horse,’ he went on. ‘No one seemed to have thought of it. Her horse is important to her.’

I let that one drift and waited.

‘Mrs. Essex is appreciative.’

I let that one drift too.

He studied his beautifully manicured finger nails, then shot me a sudden hard look.

‘You work here, Mr. Crane?’

Here it comes, I thought. This fat fink isn’t wasting time on me.

‘You could say that.’

He nodded.

‘Yes.’ A pause. ‘You don’t appear on our payroll, Mr. Crane, yet you tell me you are working for us.’

I put a blank look on my face.

‘I didn’t say that, Mr. Jackson. I’m working for Colonel Olson.’ He nibbled at his thumbnail while he stared at me.

‘Colonel Olson engaged you?’

‘Maybe I’d better explain.’ I gave him my frank expression with a slight apologetic smile. It didn’t seem to make any impact on him but I couldn’t imagine anything making an impact on him. ‘Colonel Olson and I served together in Saigon. He flew a bomber. I kept him flying.’ I was speaking very casually. ‘I heard he was working for Mr. Essex and as I was looking for something to do and as he and I got along fine together I wrote, asking him if he could get me a job here. He wrote back and said there was nothing at the moment but if I were free, how would I like to come here and help out on the runway. He said he could give me a cabin and food, but there would be no money. I could look on it as a vacation. He said later he would talk to the staff manager and maybe there would be a vacancy. I was bored staying at home. I have my Army gratuity and I wanted to see Paradise City and I wanted very much to see Colonel Olson again... he’s a fine man. Mr. Jackson, but I don’t have to tell you that... so... here I am.’

He nodded his turnip head several times and his little eyes half closed.

‘I’m afraid Colonel Olson is at fault. He had no business having you here: no business at all.’

I didn’t say anything.

‘This is most irregular.’ He frowned. ‘Perhaps you don’t realise it. Everyone who works for us is insured. Suppose you met with an accident on the runway? You could sue us out of sight and we wouldn’t be covered.’

‘Is that right?’ I gave him my humble, blank face. ‘I’m sure Colonel Olson never thought of that nor did I.’

He seemed to like my humble face better than my frank face for his tight little lips lifted into what I suppose he imagined to be a smile.

‘I can see that. Colonel Olson is a good pilot, but he is no businessman. What exactly are you doing on the runway?’

‘I’m working under O’Brien. I keep the bulldozers in operation. The crew don’t know about engines.’

The smile went away.

‘But isn’t that O’Brien’s job?’

‘He’s taking care of the blasting. Colonel Olson thought it would save time for me to take care of the bulldozers. I understand the runway has to be gotten ready fast.’

‘I’m quite aware of the need to get the runway finished.’ The steel in his voice warned me I was talking too much.

‘I’m sure, Mr. Jackson. I was just trying to explain.’

‘We must regularize this business. Please report to the staff office and they will sign you on as one of the crew. You will be paid the usual union rates and you will be insured.’

‘Thank you for the suggestion, but I won’t do that. You see, Mr. Jackson, I am on vacation. I’m not looking for that kind of work. I like messing around with engines but not for long. I was just helping the Colonel and enjoying myself.’

This threw him. He stiffened and stared at me.

‘You mean you don’t want to work for us?’

‘Not as a ganger. I’m a fully qualified aero-engineer.’

His eyebrows crawled almost into his black hair.

‘A fully qualified aero-engineer?’

‘That’s correct. Before Vietnam, I was with Lockheed.’

He began nibbling at his thumb nail again.

‘I see.’ He paused, then went on, ‘Mrs. Essex is pleased with you Crane. Perhaps we could find a place here in your own line. Would that interest you?’

I noted he had dropped the ‘mister.’

I had a sudden idea he wouldn’t be wasting his busy time with me unless he had to. Mrs. Essex is pleased with you. That gave me the clue. This fat fink had been sent by her to do something for me in return for finding her horse. It was a guess, but I felt it was a good one.

‘That depends on the job and the pay.’

He recrossed his legs. I saw by the sour expression on his face he hated me the way a snake hates a mongoose.

‘Could you service a Condor XJ 7?’

‘I’m a fully qualified aero-engineer,’ I told him. ‘That means I can handle any kite, providing I have a good working crew.’

‘I see.’

I had him fazed. I could tell that by the way he again recrossed his legs and again took a nibble at his thumbnail.

‘Well...’

A long pause, then he got to his feet.

‘I must see what I can do. You would like to work for us?’

‘As I said: it would depend on the pay and the job.’

He peered at me.

‘What did Lockheed pay you?’

‘Twenty, but that was four years ago.’

He nodded. I was certain he would contact Lockheed and check, but that didn’t worry me. I was a white-headed boy with Lockheed four years ago. I knew they would root for me.

‘Oblige me by staying away from the runway,’ he said as he moved to the door. ‘Please make yourself quite at home. I will tell the staff manager that you can enjoy all our facilities. I must talk to Mr. Essex.’

‘I wouldn’t want to stick around here, doing nothing for long Mr. Jackson.’

Again he peered at me as if I were a reptile behind glass.

‘You will have a car at your disposal. Why not enjoy the city?’ I could see he was hating this. ‘Go to the staff office. Mr. Macklin will provide you with funds.’ His mouth pursed as if he had bitten into a quince. ‘It’s Mrs. Essex’s wish.’

I gave him my graven image face.

‘That’s nice of her.’

He stalked out of the cabin, climbed into a Bentley coupe, driven by a negro chauffeur in the Essex bottle green uniform and was driven away.

Pam came out of the shower room. She stood staring at me, her eyes wide.

‘I’d never have believed it!’ she said breathlessly. ‘I don’t know what Bernie will say.’

I lit a cigarette, my mind busy.

‘Jack! Bernie will be furious.’

I looked at her. She now bored me.

‘Run away, baby. I have thinking to do.’

‘Listen to me...!’ she began, her eyes snapping with rage.

‘You heard me. Piss off I have thinking to do.’

‘Bernie made a mistake,’ she said, her voice unsteady, her face white. ‘Do him a favour. Get out of here! We’ll find someone else! If you really are Bernie’s friend, get out and fast!’

I regarded her.

‘You won’t find anyone else,’ I said, ‘so run away baby and stop shooting of at the mouth. I’m in and now it’s up to Bernie. I’m not asking you to explain the set-up, but so far, as I’ve told you before, it stinks. I’m getting the idea Bernie isn’t the man I thought he was. He could need help.’ Then putting a bark in my voice, I snapped, ‘Beat it!’

She went out slamming the door behind her.

I sat still, smoked and thought.

I thought of that lush body, the Venetian red hair and the big violet eyes — the most exciting woman, to me in the world.

I went along to see Mr. Macklin. the staff manager and caught him just as he was about to go home. The time was 19.00, but apart from giving me a quick look up and down with eyes that had the same ice pick quality as Wes Jackson’s his smile as he shook hands with me seemed sincere enough.

‘Ah yes. Mr. Crane.’ he said. ‘I have had instructions about you from Mr. Jackson.’ He slightly lowered his voice when mentioning Jackson’s name. I was surprised he didn’t genuflect ‘I have an envelope for you with the compliments of Essex Enterprises.’ He went to his desk and raked around and finally came up with a large white envelope. ‘If you want a car, do please go to our transport department — it is open twenty-four hours a day — you can have what you like.’

I took the envelope, thanked him, said I would like a car and went with him to his office door. He pointed out the transport department, a hundred yards or so from where we stood, shook hands again and I left him.

The transport people had also been alerted. They asked me what car I would like. I said I didn’t mind so long as it was small. They fitted me up with a 2000 Alfa Romeo which suited me and I drove back to my cabin.

Inside the envelope was five one hundred dollar bills and passes to three movie houses, the casino, four restaurants, two clubs and three nightclubs. Each pass was stamped: Essex Enterprises: admit two.

I found O’Brien settling down to television. He didn’t need a lot of persuading to have a night out with me.

We had a hell of a night out: doing the City in style and it only cost me tips.

Slightly drunk, and on our way back to the airport around 02.00, O’Brien said, ‘From now on I’ll keep my eye on Mrs. E’s horse. Boy! Did you play that beautifully!’

‘It’s a natural talent,’ I said and decanted him from the car, then going into my cabin, I stripped of and rolled into bed.

Before I turned the light off I did a little more thinking. This wouldn’t last long. I told myself. Mrs. Essex wasn’t going to keep me in luxury for more than a week, if that. Right at this moment I was a very rich woman’s whim. First. I would listen to Olson’s proposition. Then I would decide, whether to play along with him or to try to turn the whim of this very rich woman into something much more substantial than a whim.

I told myself I was drunk enough to make dreams. I thought of her again: the red hair, the violet eyes, the feel of her body. Reaching for the moon? That was old hat now. Men went to the moon. Why not me?

The sound of an aircraft coming in to land brought me awake. I looked blearily at the bedside clock which registered 10.15. I rolled out of bed and was in time to see the dust of a Condor settled on the runway. This meant that Lane Essex, plus Bernie, were back.

There was Jackson’s Bentley already rushing to the landing point as well as three jeeps. I decided it would be quite a while before Olson would get to me so I took a shower, shaved, put on a sweat shirt and slacks and then called room service. In spite of the heavy drinking of the previous night, I was hungry.

I ordered waffles, eggs on grilled ham and coffee.

The man taking my order sounded as if I were granting him a favour.

‘In ten minutes, Mr. Crane,’ he said, ‘not a minute more.’

I thanked him, slapped after shave on my face and sat in a lounging chair to wait. I dug for this VIP treatment, but I wasn’t kidding myself it would last.

The breakfast arrived in eight minutes... I timed it.

After eating, I read the newspaper that had been delivered with the meal. Every now and then I heard a bang that told me O’Brien was still blasting.

At midday, I got bored waiting. Olson must be tied up, so I decided I would go into the city and use one of the credit cards. As I was crossing to the door, the telephone bell rang. I scooped up the receiver.

‘Mr. Crane?’ A woman’s voice, very cool and abrupt.

‘Could be: why?’

A pause. I could imagine her change of expression.

‘Mr. Jackson wants you. A car is on its way for you... in twenty minutes.’

Playing a hunch, I said. ‘In twenty minutes, I’ll be in the city. Mention this to Mr. Jackson,’ and I hung up.

I lit a cigarette as the telephone bell rang again.

‘Mr. Crane?’ There was now an anxious note in her voice.

‘That’s me. You’ve just caught me. What is it?’

‘Would you please wait until the car arrives? Mr. Jackson wants to talk to you.’

‘That’s a nicer approach, baby,’ I said, ‘but it so happens I’m not in the mood to talk to Mr. J. right now... it’s too early in the morning,’ and I hung up.

I waited, smoking, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if I was playing my cards right but all the time thinking of that phrase: Mrs. Essex is pleased with you. Seconds later the telephone bell rang again.

‘Yeah?’

‘Mr. Crane, please cooperate.’ The voice sounded frantic. ‘It’s Mrs. Essex who wants to meet you.’

‘So why didn’t you say it before?’

‘It’s Mrs. Essex who is asking for you. Could you, please, make yourself available? The car is on its way.’

‘I’ll wait.’ I paused, then went on ‘and listen, baby, the next time you call me, get the snooty tone out of your voice. I don’t like it.’ I hung up.

Ten minutes later, Jackson’s Bentley pulled up outside my cabin. The negro chauffeur, bowing and grinning, had the rear door open for me. I climbed in and was wafted away at high speed.

The two guards at the airport entrance saluted me. The Bentley took me along the coast road, then up behind the city into the hills. While I was being driven, I leaned back against the English leather upholstery and thought about her.

Okay... a pipe dream, but life must be made up, sometimes, of pipe dreams... how else can anyone survive in this world of violence and madness?

We arrived at the entrance gates of the Essex estate. Two guards in bottle green had the gates open. We swept through and up a quarter of a mile of drive, bordered with trees, lawns, flowering shrubs and beds of roses.

The Bentley drew up at the front door: a tricky, rich affair of wrought iron and glass. A fat, white haired English looking butler was standing, waiting. He smiled at me: that patronising smile only the English can produce.

‘Please come this way, Mr. Crane.’

I followed his fat back down a wide corridor, plastered with modem paintings that had to be genuine.

Finally, we arrived through double glass doors onto a vast patio with an ultra violet glass roof to shield the weak and the weary, plus orchids and troughs packed with multi-coloured begonias. In the centre of this opulence a vast fountain played into a vaster basin in which tropical fish swam as if doing a favour.

In this scene of richness, I found her.

She was lying on one of those things on wheels with a headrest and yellow cushions. Wes Jackson was seated slightly away from her, nursing what looked like a dry martini.

As I came out onto the patio, Jackson heaved his bulk up and got to his feet.

‘Come on in. Mr. Crane,’ he said and his smile, was like a drop of lemon juice on a live oyster. I noted the ‘mister’ had returned. He turned to her. ‘You’ve met before, Mrs. Essex. I don’t have to make introductions.’

She looked up at me and extended her hand. I moved forward, gripped her hand that felt hot and dry, then released it.

‘Are you feeling better?’ I asked.

‘Thank you: I’m not so bad.’ The violet eyes were looking me over. I told myself there couldn’t be any other woman in the world as glamorous, as sexy, as gorgeous as this one. ‘It was quite a fall, wasn’t it?’ She smiled and waved to a chair close to where she was lying. ‘Sit down, Mr. Crane.’

As I sat down, a Jap in white drill materialised from nowhere.

‘What will you drink, Mr. Crane?’ Jackson asked.

‘A coke with bitter.’

That threw him and the Jap. They both stared at me. I had been rehearsing that while in the Bentley.

Mrs. Essex laughed

‘That’s a drink I’ve never heard of.’

‘At this hour of the day it suits me. I get to the hard stuff after sunset.’

There was a pause and the Jap went away.

Jackson moved to his chair, but stopped short as Mrs. Essex flicked her fingers at him.

‘All right, Jackson.’ she said, ‘I’m sure you have lots of work to do.’

‘Yes, Mrs. Essex.’

Without looking at me, he faded swiftly and silently from the scene.

‘I don’t like fat men,’ she said, ‘do you?’

‘He has a lean and hungry look.’ I said. ‘I would rather settle for a fat man than a very lean one.’

She nodded.

‘So you read Shakespeare?’

‘I was on an airfield, ten miles outside Saigon for three years. The guy who had my hut before I arrived and who walked into a face full of shrapnel had Shakespeare’s plays and an album of blue photos. I spent most of my time looking at the photos and reading the plays.’

‘Which did you prefer?’

‘After a while the photos lost their impact, but the old Bard lingered on.’

The Jap came back with a frosted glass of coke and set it on the table beside me as if he was setting down a bomb. He drew back and waited.

‘Is that how you like it?’ she asked.

‘It’s fine.’ I didn’t taste it. ‘It was a gag.’

She flicked her fingers at the Jap who disappeared. This finger flicking act of hers impressed me. I wondered if a time would come when she would flick her fingers at me.

‘A gag?’

‘Just trying to hold my end up,’ I said. ‘I’m not used to this opulent scene... at least it fazed Jackson.’

She stared at me then laughed.

‘I love that. It certainly did.’

I took out my crumbled pack of cigarettes.

‘Could you smoke one of these or are yours gold plated?’

‘I don’t smoke.’ A pause, then she said. ‘I find you refreshing, Mr. Crane.’

I lit a cigarette.

‘I’m glad. While we are paying compliments, may I tell you, to me, you’re the most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen.’

We stared at each other and she lifted an eyebrow.

‘Thank you.’ Another pause. ‘And thank you for finding Borgia. Not one of these stupid people at the airport thought of looking for him. I don’t believe you haven’t ridden a horse. The way you handled Borgia: only a horseman could have done that.’

‘That was another gag.’ I smiled at her. ‘I’m like that. Mrs. Essex... a gag man. Out in Saigon, I spent most of my time on a horse when I wasn’t working on kites.’

‘And, of course, when you weren’t reading Shakespeare or looking at blue photos.’

‘That’s it.’

‘Would you be interested to work for us?’ She shot the question at me the way Ali shoots a jab.

I was expecting it and had my answer ready.

‘Would you qualify the word “us’?’

She frowned.

‘The Essex Enterprises of course!’

‘That would mean working for Mr. Jackson?’ I regarded her, then went on, ‘Just for a moment I thought you were suggesting I should work for you.’

This threw her as I hoped it would. She tried to hold my stare, but her eyes shifted away.

‘I asked Jackson if there was some interesting opening we could offer you.’ She still looked away from me. ‘He seems to think that might be difficult, but then he always makes difficulties.’

‘I can imagine.’ I saw she was back on an even keel again and I smiled at her. ‘I appreciate this very much, Mrs. Essex: especially you asking me here. After all I only found your horse, but if you could find me a job here...’ I let it drift. ‘I would like to talk to Colonel Olson. Frankly, working for Mr. Jackson isn’t my idea of fun and I like fun.’ I got to my feet. ‘Thank you for your hospitality.’ I was now standing over her. ‘Now, if you’ll do your finger flicking act, I’ll disappear as they all disappear.’

She stared up at me and there was that sudden thing in her eyes that all women get when they want a man. I’ve known a lot of women in my life and that look is unmistakable. I could scarcely believe it but it was there and then it went away: like a green traffic light changing to red.

‘Goodbye, Mr. Crane.’

‘So long.’ I paused and looked right into those big violet eyes. ‘I know this doesn’t buy me anything, but I want you to know that, right now, I’m looking at the most beautiful woman in the world.’

I made that my exit line.

There was no sign of Bernie Olson when the Bentley decanted me outside my cabin. I went in, wondering if.there was a note for me but didn’t find one.

The time was after 13.00 and I was now hungry. I rang room service and asked for something to eat.

‘The special is excellent, Mr. Crane: baby lamb with all the trimmings. Should I send that over?’

I said it would do fine and hung up.

During the drive back to the airport I had thought about Mrs. Essex. Could I have been mistaken about that look that had come into her eyes? I don’t think so, but it seemed fantastic that a woman in her position could have got turned on by a guy like me. So okay, accepting that fact she had been turned on it didn’t mean a thing. A woman like that wouldn’t take risks when married to Lane Essex. She could have her private thoughts but putting those thoughts into action was something else beside. All the same, she had me turned on. I would have given a couple of years of my life to spend a night with her: that, I knew would be an experience that I would never forget.

After a while, the meal arrived and I ate it. By this time it was 14.23. While I was lighting a cigarette, the telephone rang.

‘Hi! Jack!’ It was Olson.

‘Hi!’

‘Have you a car?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you think you can find your way to that cafe-bar?’

‘No problem.’

‘Suppose we meet there in half an hour?’

‘Okay.’

He hung up.

Well, I thought as I crushed out my cigarette and got to my feet, I would now know what this was all about. As I left the cabin and got into the Alfa there came a distant bang of blasting. O’Brien was still at it.

It took me twenty minutes to reach the cafe-bar. The white Jag was parked in the shade. I parked the Alfa by it, then walked up the creaking steps to the veranda.

Olson was sitting, nursing a cup of coffee. He waved to me and I joined him.

The girl came out and smiled at me.

‘Coffee.’

‘Well, Jack, seems like you have been having yourself quite a ball,’ Olson said as the girl went away. ‘It also seems that you have forgotten the Army faster than I had imagined.’

The girl came back with the coffee and went away.

‘What does that mean?’

‘You’ve forgotten how to obey orders.’ There was a snap in his voice that annoyed me.

‘You said yourself we’re no longer in the Army. Look, Bernie, I’m not going to make any excuses. You dumped me here on a phoney job. You didn’t take me into your confidence. So I’ve played it the way the cards fell. If you don’t like the way I’ve played it, say so and I’ll get out of here.’

He tried to stare at me, but failed. His eyes shifted. I could see he was sweating.

‘Well, maybe there’s no damage done, but I wanted you to keep out of the spotlight. From what I hear, you’re now in good with Mrs. Essex.’ He stirred his coffee, not looking at me. ‘Maybe that’s a good thing. I hear you were up at the house this morning.’

‘Your grapevine’s working well.’

He forced a smile.

‘Don’t let’s get off on the wrong foot Jack. This operation is too important. I’m relying on you. I need your help.’

‘Look, Bernie, up to now you’ve handled this wrong. Why the hell didn’t you tell me what you’re cooking when you first brought me here instead of feeding me this crap about building a runway? If you had done that, there wouldn’t have been this foul up.’

‘I couldn’t. Kendrick insisted on seeing you before you joined us. He’s like that... he wouldn’t trust his mother. Then I had to fly the boss to New York: that was unexpected.’

‘Kendrick? That fat queer? Where does he fit in?’

‘He’s financing it.’

I lit a cigarette.

‘Okay, Bernie, suppose you tell it.’

He fidgeted with the spoon, put it down, picked it up, tapped it against his cup.

‘Yes.’ A pause, then he said. ‘You remember my last mission in Saigon? You remember the airfield was bombed and your hut was destroyed?’

I stared at him

‘What’s that got to do with this?’

‘A lot. You remember I told you to move in with me?’ Bernie put down the spoon, pushed his half-finished coffee away, then drew it towards him. ‘You remember I had the bed and you the couch?’

‘I remember.’

A long pause, then Bernie said quietly, ‘You talked in your sleep Jack. Three old money changers I’ll never forget that night, listening to you muttering. Then later when I got this itch to make big money and when I hatched out this plan to get it and when I realised I had to have a top class man to help me, I thought of you.’ He put down the spoon and looked directly at me. ‘I figured that if you could kill three old men for around $5000, you would do a lot more for a quarter of a million.’ He ran his hand over his sweating face, then asked. ‘Am I right?’

I drank some coffee.

‘It depends, Bernie. A quarter of a million is nice money, but I was safe enough in Saigon... how safe would I be here?’

‘It’s safe enough. That’s the least of the problem. Right now, you’re my problem. I can understand what you did out there. The Viets meant nothing to any of us. Shooting an old Viet under battle conditions is something I can I accept, but this thing... well, if it comes unstuck, then you could go away for a long time as I could I can’t see how it could come unstuck. I’ve thought a lot about it and I reckon we have a 95 percent chance of getting away with it.’

‘I could accept those odds,’ I said.

‘Yes.’ He picked up the spoon and began to fidget with it again. ‘What I want to know Jack, is how you react to this offer.’

‘Suppose you tell me about it? Then I can tell you.’

He shook his head.

‘I can’t do that unless you tell me you’re in with us. If I tell you the plan and you duck out... where are we left?’

I stared at him.

‘That’s telling me you don’t trust me to keep my mouth shut.’

He looked away from me.

‘I’m not the only one in this. Either a quarter of a million persuades you to come in with us without being told or it’s no dice.’

‘You didn’t talk this way to me in Saigon, I’m not walking into anything blind. You either trust me or you don’t. That’s my final word.’

We stared at each other, then he gave me a sudden smile and it did me good to see it. It was the kind of smile he used to give me before he took off on a bombing mission.

‘I apologise Jack. Okay... here it is. If you don’t want it, I’ll give you three thousand dollars and you go home and forget it... right?’

‘Right.’

‘I’ve been working for Essex now for a year. I’ve had enough of him and his wife. There’s no future in it. Working for them has aged me. I don’t have to tell you: you can see for yourself. Pilots are a dime a dozen. Essex could replace me like that.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘So I got to thinking.’ He stared down the sandy road at the distant beach. ‘This brings us to Pam. When I took over the airport, she was there, as deputy air hostess. Maybe this will be hard for you to understand. She and I have a thing for each other. She can’t help being over sexed. This is something I can’t do anything about, but we really mean a great deal to each other. When she has to have it, I look away.’ He took out his handkerchief and wiped of his sweating hands. ‘We were out one night, eating at L’Espandon where she has credit and she introduced me to Claude Kendrick. You’ve met him. Kendrick not only runs a profitable art gallery, but he is also the biggest fence on the coast. He is in the market for any goods to be sold: no matter what. Over coffee, I got to talking about Essex’s new plane. This is quite a job Jack. The final bill will work out around ten million dollars. It’s...’

‘Hey! Wait a minute!’ I stared at him. ‘Did you say ten million?’

‘That’s right.’

‘I don’t believe it. You can buy a Viscount for two and a half. Ten! Are you sure?’

‘This is a unique plane Jack. There’s no other plane like it in the world. Essex’s experts have been working on it for four years. Essex has poured money into It to get it right. This is not a mass-produced job. It’s like a Rolls Royce car: nothing but the best. I won’t go into details now. You’ll probably see it for yourself. Two weeks after my meeting with Kendrick, Pam told me he would like to see me again. We met and he told me he had a client who would buy the plane if I flew it to Yucatan. The cut for me would be a million. I told him he was crazy. He said there was no hurry, but he would like me to think about it. So I started thinking. The plane wouldn’t be ready for test flights for another three months. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that it could be done.’ He looked up, regarding me. ‘I would need the right crew. I have a copilot lined up. I have Pam. I need a flight mechanic — you. How do you like it so far?’

I lit a cigarette while I thought about it.

‘It’s an idea. Could I dig at it, shooting off the cuff?’

‘That’s what I want.’

‘Okay. You have a ten million dollar aircraft. Don’t let’s worry about how you steal it. Let’s first look at the financial end. You get a million. I get a quarter. Pam gets something and also the copilot!’

‘That’s about it.’

‘Kendrick sells the kite for five million. That’s half price. He takes no risk and puts three million in his pocket. Do you think that’s a good proposition?’

Bernie shifted uneasily.

‘You just said a quarter of a million was nice money.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question.’

‘I don’t know how much Kendrick will collect: could be a lot less than five.’

I shook my head.

‘No. I’ve met him: he’s all shark. He’ll probably get seven. He’s gyping you.’

Olson shrugged. There was again that weary, cynical look in his eyes that gave me no confidence in him.

‘I’ll settle for a million. With that kind of money Jack, I could set up an air taxi service in Mexico. You could come into it too.’

I finished my lukewarm coffee.

‘Suppose we talk to Kendrick. He could be squeezed. Suppose you got two and I got one. That would be better, wouldn’t it?’

‘Kendrick holds the cards Jack. He has the client. I don’t know who he is. Without the client we would be whistling in the wind.’ He stared at me. ‘And another thing, I don’t think Kendrick can be squeezed.’

‘Suppose I try? After all who is taking the risk?’

‘Well, maybe, but I’ll have to discuss this with Pam and Harry.’

‘Your copilot?’

He nodded.

‘Tell me about him.’

‘Harry Erskine: he’s been my copilot for the past nine months. Young: around twenty-four, tough, a good pilot, not easy to get along with, but he’s okay.’

‘What made him come into this set-up?’

‘Mrs. Essex dangled herself and he fell for it and then she cut him down to size. That’s her speciality: turning it on, making a guy think he’s going to get into her bed, then telling him he isn’t.’ Olson looked hard at me. ‘I don’t know how far she’s got with you Jack, but watch it. She’s a copper plated bitch. Now Harry hates her and has joined us.’

I filed that bit of information away in my mind as I said, ‘So how do you plan to steal a ten million dollar plane?’

‘We have time to work out the details. The plane will be delivered on November 1st — two months from now. Harry and I will collect it and fly it down here. The plane will have to be flight tested. Essex travels a lot and often wants to be flown at night. There’ll be no problem about doing a night test flight. So, you, Harry, Pam and I take off on a night flight. We fly out to sea then I’ll radio the port engines are on fire. The Air Controller then hears nothing. It’ll take him some minutes to get out an alert. By that time we’ll be heading for Yucatan, flying wave high to cut radar. Kendrick’s client has a runway outside Merida. It’s in the bush and jungle. We land there. The details have still to be worked out, but that’s the plan.’

I thought about it.

‘Sounds good,’ I said finally. ‘The theory being the plane crashed into the sea and sank without trace?’

‘That’s it?’

‘You have no idea who the client is?’

‘No.’

‘He must be quite someone to construct a runway.’

‘Yes.’

‘So... we’re dead people once we have radio silence.’

‘That’s right.’

‘We get the money and we settle in Mexico?’

He nodded.

‘Each one of us takes a risk if we go back?’

‘We can’t go back? If we go back and if any of us is spotted, the operation explodes. As you said... we’re dead people the moment we go of the air.’

‘You’re sold on this Bernie?’

‘Yes. It’s big money and I need big money. I want to feel secure.’ I remembered that fat queer with his ridiculous orange wig talking about security. ‘With the money I can start an air taxi service. I’ve already got that lined up. If you would sink some of your cut into it. we could work together. There’s a big demand for air taxi services in Mexico.’ He regarded me. ‘Well Jack, you now know as much as I do about the set-up. What do you say? Are you in or aren’t you?’

‘I like it,’ I got to my feet, ‘but I want to meet Erskine. Let’s all get together, huh?’

Bernie stared uneasily at me.

‘Harry’s tricky. You may not dig for him.’

‘What’s that mean?’

‘I’m telling you: I need him as copilot. He does what I say. You don’t have to bother with him.’

‘This is a steal, Bernie. We all could go away for fifteen years if it’s fouled up. This has got to be a team and I’m not working with anyone I can’t get along with.’

Bernie got to his feet.

‘I understand. I’ll fix a meeting.’

‘And Bernie...’ I stared at him. ‘Let’s have Kendrick at the meeting as well.’

‘We don’t want Kendrick.’

‘Yes we do. This is a team and Kendrick is part of it.’

He lifted his hands in a weary gesture.

‘I’ll see what can be arranged.’

‘Do more than that, Bernie, You, Erskine, Pam. Kendrick and me around a table and let’s talk this thing out.’

‘Okay.’

We walked together into the sunshine and paused by our cars.

‘I’m not being tricky, Bernie,’ I said. ‘I’m thinking of you as much as I’m thinking of myself.’

He patted my arm.

‘That’s why I picked on you. I’m not quite the guy I was and I need your help.’

I watched him drive away in the Jag, then I got into the Alfa.

I sat there for some minutes, thinking, then I drove back to the airport.