“The Pelican. I know he likes that one.”
Again, I repeated the name aloud. Sarah shrugged.
“More?” I said to Janie.
“Waldo Green’s. We go there a lot.”
“Waldo Green’s?” Sarah brightened a bit as I said it.
“Janie, I’ll let you get back to sleep now,” I said. “Please call one of us if you hear anything from Richie. We’re all pretty worried.” I gave the phone numbers to our cottage and the Dunbars. She mumbled a sleepy goodnight and I wondered whether she’d remember the conversation at all by morning.
“Do you think any of these places would be open right now?” I asked, handing the phone back to Robert.
“Doubt it. They’re all teen clubs, underage crowd, no liquor. Closed before midnight, most of ’em.” His eyes were weary. “You’ve done what you can for now. Go get some rest and be ready to get my daughter at the airport in the morning, eh.”
Drake rose from the overstuffed chair where he’d become way too comfortable.
“You’re right, Robert. I better get this guy to bed or he won’t be fit to fly out to that rig in the morning.”
Despite the fact that I was worried about Richie and wondered why the two other boys hadn’t returned, I fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow. The alarm rang at five-thirty and Drake dragged himself from the warmth of the bed, but I rolled over for another half-hour. By the time he’d finished showering I’d made myself sit up.
We opted to take two cars to the airport, since there was no way of knowing where either of us would be by the end of this day. I saw Drake off on his flight about seven then I radioed Inverness tower to be sure there wouldn’t be any problem with my landing the JetRanger next to the British Air 767 after it came in at gate four. The controller seemed hesitant about it until I mentioned the name Dunbar.
Today would be Meggie’s first day back in the office after her ordeal and I’d really wanted to be here to lend a hand if she needed help getting things back in order. I could also be a second person in the office in case she felt uneasy about being alone at first. But it looked like that was not to be, at least for the first few hours. Maybe I’d be able to get back soon if there were some miraculous break in the Dunbar situation.
Precisely at seven twenty-eight the British Air flight from London touched down and rolled down the taxiway to Gate 4. The entire Inverness airport consists of one long terminal building with four doors, where passengers walk outside to climb portable steps to their planes. I watched through field glasses from my seat in the helicopter, two hundred yards and two fences away.
As soon as the ground crew wheeled the stairway toward the plane, I brought my engine up to speed and pulled pitch. Setting the ship down fifty feet away from the jet, in my pre-cleared spot, I tightened down my controls and waited.
Edward and Elizabeth Campbell weren’t hard to spot. Evidently they’d been in first class because they were among the first ten people off the plane. Edward was scanning the area and he nudged his wife and pointed toward the helicopter. I climbed down from my seat and unplugged my headset, leaving it on to muffle some of the turbine whine that filled the area. I reached them by the time they hit the bottom of the steps.
Edward wore a charcoal business suit, white shirt and light gray tie with tiny black dots. His thinning brown hair was trimmed short and his smooth-shaven face had not quite become jowly, yet. His mouth was pulled into a somber expression. He moved with the authority of a man accustomed to getting his way.
“Hi, I’m Charlie.” I held out my hand and noticed that Edward looked at it before he shook it. His eyes skimmed the black slacks and cotton sweater I’d purposely chosen instead of my usual jeans.
Elizabeth bore her worry directly on her face. Physically, she was a replica of her mother—slim and blond, with gray eyes. They were puffy from a night without sleep and red-rimmed to the point that makeup couldn’t disguise it. But where Sarah’s manner was soft and friendly, her daughter had a veneer of big city on her. Her black pant suit, trimmed in satin piping, was clearly expensive and I recognized the sunglasses she slipped out of her bag as being a brand that sold for $450 at home. She wore her hair in a style that was currently popular with twenty-somethings, a gelled piece of work that was meant to look like she’d just had a good tumble in the hay. She thrust a carry-on bag at me without a word.
Okay.
I turned and ushered them toward the helicopter with my teeth firmly in a demure smile. I made them stand aside while I stowed their two bags into the cargo compartment. Elizabeth stood with both hands firmly holding her blond hair against the tremendous wind whipped up by the blades. Edward didn’t have enough hair to worry about.
“Front seat? Back? Who wants to ride where?” I shouted.
He instinctively moved toward the front, so I opened the back door for Elizabeth. She had a little trouble figuring out that she would need to put her left foot on the skid step before she could swing herself up into the seat, but she finally got it. Luckily, she’d worn the slacks. The whole maneuver can be truly awkward in a dress. I reached across her and snapped her seat belt in place, then handed her a headset from the shelf behind her. She wore it gingerly, high on her head, cautious about her ‘do.’
Edward had opened his door and gotten into his seat while all this was going on, but the seat belt confounded him, since those in the front were a combination belt and shoulder harness. I could tell the harnesses crisscrossing his charcoal business suit didn’t please him. I clicked them into place and cinched them tightly.
Circling the nose of the aircraft and taking my own seat, I adjusted my mouthpiece and flicked the switch for the intercom.
“Everyone comfortable?” I glanced back at Elizabeth but she was checking her nail polish for chips. Edward merely nodded.
I switched back to the tower frequency and transmitted my intention to take off, cross the active runway and take a heading to the south-southeast. Once the controller confirmed it, I pulled pitch and lifted the ship slowly off the tarmac. Edward looked back to be sure all the other passengers from the plane had noticed that they were being picked up by a private helicopter. I stifled the smile that twitched at my mouth.
“We should be there in just a few minutes,” I told them. “In a straight line, Dunworthy is only about twelve miles from here.”
Open fields gave way to dense forest after we’d cleared the airport, but the bold patches of new green were clearly visible in all directions. I spotted the high turrets of Dunworthy Castle in the distance. They made excellent reference points—far easier than finding an oil rig in the middle of a gray, swelling sea. I guided the aircraft in and saw Sarah and Robert come out the front door as we approached. With acres of smooth green lawn available, I chose a spot about fifty yards away from the castle and set the JetRanger down softly.
The Dunbars walked toward us as I let the turbine engine wind down and slowed the rotor blades gently with the brake. Sarah greeted me with a hug when I’d climbed out of my seat. She shook her head softly when I asked whether there had been any more news.
I walked around to release Edward first from his seat, then Elizabeth, then I opened the cargo door and placed each of their bags firmly in their hands while I closed the compartments. I joined the other four as they stood back from the helicopter. They’d exchanged quick hugs. Now Robert held out an arm, which he slipped around my shoulders.
“You’ve met Charlie, our private detective,” he announced. “Come inside, everyone. Sarah’s got coffee on and a coffeecake that looks scrumptious.”
The two newcomers sent some daggers my way as Robert steered me toward the castle like a family member.
“Mother, surely you’ve decided to call the police into this by now,” Elizabeth said, dropping her bag in the entry hall. She shed her jacket and draped it over the bag on the floor. “I mean . . .” she glanced at me to emphasize her opinion of my capabilities.
“No, dear,” Sarah said. “Absolutely not. The calle
r was quite firm. Your father and I feel that we have to follow instructions on this.” She led us toward the spacious kitchen where she’d made tea for me the first time I’d been here. Ruffie lay on the floor like a dustmop someone had left out. She flapped her tail once at the sight of us.
“Charlie is absolutely qualified,” Robert said.
I started to interrupt with a denial, until I caught the look on Edward’s face.
“I also suggested they call the police,” I said. “Just so you understand that this wasn’t my idea.”
“Father has always been stubborn as a rock,” Elizabeth murmured to me as Sarah and Robert clattered plates and cups on the far side of the room. I got the feeling she was loosening up toward me a bit.
“I still don’t like it,” Edward said. “What’s been done so far?”
I told him briefly what we’d learned the previous night, while Sarah passed plates of coffeecake covered in a crumbly cinnamon topping. I noticed that neither Elizabeth nor Robert picked up their forks.
“Have you talked to either of the other boys’ families?” I asked the Dunbars. They both shook their heads. “Then we have to do that. Surely, if they’d received ransom calls they would have already called you, but we have to be sure.”
Dread showed clearly on Sarah’s face.
“If they have received calls, I’m afraid I have to insist that we call the police into it immediately. All three boys are clearly in danger. If they haven’t, and if the boys haven’t turned up somewhere else, we’re really looking for all three.”
Mumbled conversations ran through the room. “I guess you’re right, Charlie,” Robert finally said.
“Wherever they are, I hope they’re together,” Elizabeth said.
Chapter 16
They all voted that Robert, with his diplomatic experience, should be the one to make the calls. We all hovered shamelessly as he got Lewis’s mother on the line. He queried politely as to her well being. We tapped our toes. He finally got around to asking whether the boys might have come to their place. A series of nods and one-syllable responses convinced us that Lewis’s family hadn’t heard from the boys. Robert told her that they’d gone to a teen club last night and hadn’t come home. He didn’t mention the phone call about Richie’s ransom.
“I’ll call Alasdair’s family, then,” he said, ending the call.
“You didn’t tell that woman her son might have been kidnapped!” Edward demanded.
“We don’t know that.” Robert’s face remained calm. “We only know that we received a call about Richie. What’s the sense in frightening the poor woman to death, if it turns out Lewis is perfectly safe somewhere?”
Elizabeth laid a hand on her husband’s arm. He stared at it a moment before crossing the room to pour himself another cup of coffee.
The second call, to Alasdair’s home, netted much the same. The boy’s father hadn’t heard from him.
“Unfortunate lad’s one of those who’s been shipped off to boarding school to get him out from underfoot,” Robert reported when he hung up. “Shame when parents don’t want their own children around.”
“Now, Father, if that’s a remark—” Elizabeth rose from her stool indignantly.
Robert held out one palm to her. “I meant nothing by it.”
“Richie’s attending Greenbriar because it offers the finest education for a young man of his class and standing,” Edward said.
“Look, everyone, I think we need to focus on what to do about this right now,” I said. I certainly had other things to do besides listen to them quibble about old family sore spots. “With your permission, Robert, I’ll go talk to Janie again, and I’ll see if I can get any information at those clubs.”
“Certainly, Charlie. Do what you need to.”
“First, I need to get this aircraft back.” I carried my cup to the sink and left them all sitting in the kitchen. In the hall, I noticed that the Campbells’ bags had been removed. I wondered briefly what it would be like to go through life with others toting and carrying for me.
At the helicopter, I quickly checked hatches and doors and did a mini preflight inspection. I glanced up to see Edward crossing the lawn toward me. Sarah had told me he was a successful real estate developer and I could believe it. His purposeful stride and pushy manner showed his take-charge attitude. I wondered if he thought he would come out here and take charge of me.
“Edward.” I kept my tone cool.
“Charlie, a word?” He glanced back at the castle.
“Certainly.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and tamped a small patch of grass with his toe. “I’m not sure how much credence I’d give to Richie’s disappearing act.”
“Act? Is that what you think this is?” My mind flashed back to the absolute horror Robert and Sarah had felt after the phone call.
He smiled in a conciliatory, almost oily, way. “He’s done this before.”
“What! Tried to demand a ransom?”
“No, not that part. But he’s taken off before. Disappeared without a word. Shows up a few days later after we’ve been sick out of our wits.”
“So, what are you saying? That we shouldn’t worry? That we shouldn’t attempt to find him?” I felt my blood pressure rise a notch.
He studied the perfect shine on his shoes.
“I can’t believe you’d take the risk,” I said. “How can you take the chance that the ransom call wasn’t real?”
He shrugged. “Talk to that girlfriend of his. I’d bet she knows more than she’s said.”
“I’ll do that. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I stepped up into my seat and put on my headset, effectively cutting off anything more he might want to say. I forced myself to blank out Edward and the whole situation with the Campbells and the Dunbars, so I wouldn’t miss a crucial step in my flight procedures. Once I was airborne, I allowed myself to ponder. What had I gotten myself into here?
Back at the airport I saw Meggie’s familiar tiny white car parked by the office. Good. I landed in my usual spot and shut down.
“Glad to see you’re back,” I greeted as I walked into the office.
“Hi, Charlie! I’m glad to be back.” Meggie’s dimples showed once again, and I noticed that she’d combed her bangs down to conceal the small bandage covering the two stitches in her forehead.
Stacks of papers still covered the top of the desk and two of the file drawers gaped open.
“I’m sorry we left such a mess for you,” I said. “I had no idea how to put all this back together.”
“It’s okay. Looks better than when I left.”
I was amazed that she was taking the whole incident with such calm.
“Drake still out?”
“Yeah. But he’s left a message for you.” She rummaged through papers on the desk. “I know I wrote it down.”
“What was it about?”
“You’re needed at one of the rigs. He said it was urgent. But I can’t—”
“What time did he call?”
“Oh, it was maybe an hour—oh, here’s the note.” She shoved a yellow slip of paper at me.
“He wants me to go to Platform Six?” My least favorite of all the rigs. I wondered if Brankin was on duty today. “Did he say why it was urgent?”
“No . . . I should have asked.”
“It’s okay. Get me refueled while I get dressed.”
With her usual efficiency, Meggie called Fergus to bring out the fuel truck. I made a quick visit to the restroom then slipped my survival suit on over my regular clothes. As usual, donning the gear reminded me of the dunk test I’d undergone before being allowed to fly over the sea. The sheer terror of being submerged in icy water always floated just below the surface of my consciousness.
Fergus finished topping off the tank as I emerged from the office. Thirty minutes later I was over open water, a deep blue today, reflecting the clear sky. Moving along in level flight with my GPS pointing the course, I found my mind flitting back and for
th from the situation with Richie Campbell to the battle between the boat operators, the helicopter companies, and the oil company. I couldn’t get my thoughts to settle.
I spotted the rig in the distance and slowed my airspeed as I approached it. I circled it once before bringing the JetRanger in beside the Eurocopter on the pad. Drake met me before I’d even brought the rotor speed down. His lean face showed worry lines.
“Problems?” I shouted over the noise of the turbine engine and the whopping blades.
“Yeah. A breakdown. We’re gonna have to leave the other ship here overnight.”
Uh-oh. Unguarded, and on the unfriendliest rig in the North Atlantic.
“Exactly,” he said, reading my mind. “I need you to fly me back to the office. I’ve been on the phone with the mechanic and he thinks the problem is in the fuel injection system. We’ve ordered a part, overnight from London, and I’ll have to bring him out with me to install it.”
“So, are you ready to leave now?”
“In a minute. I’ll grab my gear and lock things up. Stay running.” He ducked around the nose of the JetRanger and walked to the other ship.
Colin Finnie, the crew chief, came out of his office and I immediately saw Brankin approach him. Brankin turned away from me, but his gestures and body language pretty well said it. He was making his point that the helicopter service was unreliable. Barrie and Tolliver stood by, a solid little group. Finnie looked down at Brankin and took it in. His face remained placid. He let Brankin go on for a couple of minutes, then dismissed him. The three men stomped back to the elevator.
Finnie crossed to Drake, who had just finished locking the doors and compartments on the Astar. He listened as Drake talked, that same unruffled look on his face. After a short exchange, he gave me a small salute and headed toward his office. Drake came over and stowed his survival gear and flight bag in the cargo compartment.
“Finnie says he’ll do his best to keep his eye on things until I can get back,” Drake said, once he’d fastened his harness and put on his headset. “He’s not happy about this breakdown.”
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