[Most likely the end of] Chapter 7
After the Philippine Clipper reached altitude but before Indiana Jones could fall asleep, Andy Solemn crouched by Indy?s seat. Indiana removed his grey fedora and blinked away heavy eyes. ?No coffee on the morning I could use it? What gives Andy??
?I figure you?re making progress. You finally made it through the night without getting your head kicked in.?
?Sure, but I got roughed up this morning.?
?Getting roughed up doesn?t count. Doctor Jones, you?re one of the only passengers that has yet to check out the flight deck and I figure now might be the right time.?
Nora leaned forward from her seat across the aisle. ?Can I go too? I would love to see the flight deck.?
?Well what say you Doctor Jones??
Chagrined, Indiana stared at the seat in front of him for a second and then glanced back at Andy; noting the change for the serious in the kindly steward?s tone. Indy lifted his satchel from his lap and set it on the empty seat beside him. ?You?re right. It?s time I get a better lay of the land.?
As the other steward set up for lunch, Indy and Nora followed Andy through the lounge and into the Galley. Andy asked the couple to hold back while he cleared the visit with the Captain. Andy climbed the steep ladder-like steps to the flight deck, leaving Indy alone with Nora for the first time since the night before. Both angled away from the other, trying not to look in the other?s direction. Indiana thrust his hands in his pockets and affected a keen interest in the afternoon?s salad course set out on the counter.
After Andy returned and gave the all clear, Indiana climbed the ladder to the flight deck and stepped aside to make room for Nora. Even though the forward walls tapered in, the flight deck was almost as broad as the lounge below and offered ample space to accommodate a massive radio console to one side of the cabin and on the other, space for a table and instruments for the aircraft?s navigator. With one hand on his headset, the radioman looked over at Indy, smiled, and gave the thumbs up. On the other side of the cabin, charts spread across the navigator?s table caught Indy?s eye but movement from above his right shoulder caused him to turn. Several steps up from the flight deck was a small but deep triangular space ? just big enough for one man -- that Indy figured ran toward the back of the plane just below the wing. An exposed steel skeleton and the plane?s bluish rippled aluminum frame gave the space a futuristic appearance. Set back in the recess amidst wall-mounted instruments sat the chief engineer, dressed in his Flash Gordon outfit, intently making entries on a clipboard and looking out small windows that afforded a clear view of the plane?s engines.
?Doctor Jones, believe me the engineer?s throne room holds little appeal once you know it?s the only unheated part of the plane.? The Captain had left his seat by the controls and extended a hand toward Indiana. ?We?re glad you could pay us a visit.?
Indy grinned and returned the handshake. ?Even though Grieves thinks I?m the Devil incarnate??
From behind Indy, the Navigator snorted. ?Especially because Grieves thinks you?re the Devil.?
?Plus Andy and Gwen say you?re an O.K. guy,? said the Captain.
Nora looked puzzled, ?What is the story with Grieves??
?Since the flight from Hawaii, he has been bearing down on us? ? the Navigator hesitated and looked at the Captain ? ?making us fly in conditions that we?d rather not. On Pearl, Grieves challenged the weather reports and insisted we fly on to Midway. Had we had our way, we would have spent another day in Pearl.?
?But aren?t those your decisions?? Indiana asked the Captain.
The Captain nodded. ?Technically. But the thing about Grieves is that he?s one of Pam Am?s true experts in ocean flying. You name it, he can do; meteorology, night navigation, flying or engineering. If there?s ever a war, he has sealed orders to report to La Quarula Field in New York to run the Navy?s pilot training school. He?s that good.?
The navigator sat back and studied his map. ?Well, it?s sure hard to second guess him. If we keep our present pace, we?re on pace to set a new record to Manila.?
?Do you suppose he?s friendly with Lindbergh,? asked Nora. Indiana turned and raised an eyebrow at the question.
?Well Lindbergh staked out this very route for Pan Am and Lindbergh is in tight with Trippe,? replied the Captain. ?But I doubt the two know each that well. Grieves has always been posted abroad, either in the Orient or South America.?
The second pilot looked back over his shoulder. ?With Grieves around, this crew is just a glorified extension of the Clipper?s autopilot.? The pilot hit a lever and joined the group. ?I heard you two were on a rat safari last night. On my first stopover in Wake I set the record by bagging over forty -- how did you two do?
Nora shrugged. ?We didn?t keep count, but we only had one box of rounds between us.?
The second pilot nodded. ?Sure, there are 120 bullets in a box, sixty each. So how many did you two miss??
With a straight face, Indiana looked at Nora. ?How many did we miss??
?I don?t remember missing any.?
?Neither do I.? Indiana broke into a wide smile and slapped the second pilot on the shoulder. The pilot started to laugh but was cut short by a terrible piercing scream from down in the passenger compartment.
Indy jumped down the ladder and raced back to the dim sleeping compartment where a rattled Madam Sinn stood with a hand clutched above her chest. Beside her, Yang glared at Indiana and pulled back the curtain. Inside the berth, exposed by a pulled back bed sheet sat Indy?s bullwhip.
?What manner of insult is this?? demanded Yang.
Dumbfounded, Indy stammered. ?I don?t know how this could have happened.?
?This ? after all the concern you have shown for my safety?? choked Madam Sinn.
Grieves came up through a group of passengers behind Indiana Jones and assessed the scene without a word. Yang grabbed the whip. ?Mr. Grieves? ? Yang flung the whip at Indiana ? ?this man is a degenerate.?
?Perhaps,? Grieves shook his head. ?But he likely is not at fault here.? Grieves turned his head, shouted ?Gwen!?
Indiana looked back into the passenger compartment where the nine year old girl sheepishly turned her head around the seat recently vacated by Indiana. Saying that he would deal with Gwen later, Grieves made his apologies to Madam Sinn and asked everyone to settle in for the flight to Guam.
The flight landed against an orange-grey evening sky. The monotony of daily flights had worn down the passengers and crew who trekked up the pier toward the converted two-story former Marine barracks that served as the Pan Am system hotel on Guam. There was little discussion as Lake whistled a mournful version of Dixie. At the hotel, Indy chose to wait for the other guests to check-in, so he lingered alone out on the broad screened-in porch that ran the length of the building. Just as he was about to enter, he was joined by Grieves.
?There?s strange news out of Shanghai. It seems that the airport dispatcher there -- who I believe you know -- was found dead today. He had been severely beaten prior to his death.?
Indy balked. For a moment he was lost to the buzz from the insects outside and the stiffly end-of-day heat and humidity. ?His name was Art Weber. He was helping me with arrangements for the next leg of my trip.?
?Do you suspect there?s any connection with your mission for Army Intelligence??
?Possibly.?
?I knew Weber had? ? Grieves paused as he looked for the right word ? ?peculiar tastes. So perhaps his death has nothing to do with you??
Indy stepped close to Grieves. ?Tell me what passengers sent cables while we were on Midway.?
Grieves took a step back from Indiana ? then raised himself up. ?I wouldn?t breach a passenger?s confidence because you have some wild, unsubstantiated suspicious that your activities are so important so as to have caused the deaths of all those men on Midway. And don?t forget, I have no access to the Cable Company?s records.?
Indy checked his anger. ?So you?re just going to turn a blind eye again??
Grieves turned and went to enter the hotel. He paused at the door. ?Not at all. All I want to do is get to the end of this flight with the minimal disruption. And besides, I suspect you don?t really need me to tell you who sent a cable from Midway.?
[thanks Paden & Roundshort -- much will be made very clear in the next installment or two.]