Secret in the Clouds

by Christopher Cummings

  Satisfied with the identification Stephen put the book back and lay down. Feeling very relieved he lay back and closed his eyes. Soon he was sound asleep.

  His mother woke him several hours later. “Some friends to see you dear,” she said. As he sat up Stephen just knew from her tone of voice that it was not his mates from the ‘Hiking Team’. He was right. When he went out to the lounge room he found two girls from his class: Judy McMahon and Gwen Copeland. Gwen he was glad to see- she was 2 Platoon Commander and a fellow cadet. But Judy, well! She had been hinting for some time she would like to be friends but Stephen had resisted her approaches. Not that Judy was unattractive. Far from it. She was actually very pretty: a cute little turned up nose, sparkling brown eyes full of life, nice glossy, black hair, cut short and tidy, and a very nice figure. What bothered him was an uneasy feeling that she might be smart enough to have his measure, not that he articulated it that way.

  They were both full of sympathy and keen interest. “We saw you on TV,” Judy said “You were very brave.”

  Stephen’s mother obviously liked them and approved because she fussed and insisted in asking them to be seated and then produced afternoon tea.

  “How was school?” Stephen asked, trying to change the subject.

  Gwen shrugged. “Same as always,” she replied.

  Judy took up the conversation. “Well come on! Tell us all about it.”

  So Stephen had to sit and describe the climb up the mountain. Repeatedly he mentioned how Graham had led the way. Gwen sniffed at that. “Oh we know that! He’s always being the hero. I just wish he would stop and be nice to young Margaret.”

  Margaret was Graham’s sister’s best friend. She was two years younger and had been Graham’s faithful admirer for years. Stephen diverted the conversation onto them until Judy steered it back onto the air crash. Then Stephen glossed over the ghastly sights and told them about the rain-sodden map. “They must have been flying happily along thinking they were miles out to sea. Instead they were way off course and hit the only mountain for miles around.”

  Suddenly his throat constricted and he choked up. Try as he could he was unable to stop the tears welling out. Both girls were full of understanding and positively oozed sympathy but his pride was hurt and he burned. Judy even moved to pat his shoulder and he had the feeling she would hug him at the slightest excuse.

  It was the arrival of Peter and Roger which restored the situation. They had both pedalled over on their bikes and were invited in. So the story had to be told again, with more details, as the two boys wanted to know exactly what it had been like. While he talked Stephen realized that Judy was now seated beside him. That annoyed him slightly. ‘If she keeps this up people will start to think the wrong thing,’ he thought. ‘But then again.... I don’t have a girl friend at the moment. Maybe....?’

  Later, after all the friends had gone home Stephen managed another phone call to Graham. He described how he had contacted the German Embassy. Then he asked, “Did you get those photos printed?”

  “Yes,” Graham replied. “Or rather mum did. She wouldn’t let me go out. Made me stay in bed, but she dropped my camera in at a camera shop when she went to pick Kylie up from Dancing practice.”

  “Did she collect it?” Stephen asked, feeling vaguely uneasy.

  “No. She didn’t have time. The shop was shut by then. We can get it tomorrow,” Graham replied.

  “The German Embassy asked me to email or fax the photos to them,” Stephen explained. “I wouldn’t want the wrong people to see them and start asking questions.”

  “It’ll be alright. No-one will know what they are of,” Graham replied.

  But he was wrong. When Stephen woke up early the next morning and went out to collect the newspaper off the front lawn he was stunned to see the headline.

  INCREDIBLE FIND IN NORTH QUEENSLAND JUNGLE

  NAZI AIRCRAFT WRECK FROM WORLD WAR 2

  Underneath were several colour photos, one showing the black cross and another showing the grinning skull and vacant eye sockets of the dead pilot. As he stared at the photo in horror Stephen began to shake. “Oh no!”

  CHAPTER 7

  UGLY SUSPICIONS

  Stephen stared at the headline and photos and felt his stomach turn over with dismay. ‘Oh no! Someone has found out!’ But who, and how? For a moment ugly suspicions churned in his whirling thoughts. Unable to believe the bad luck he went back inside and sat down to read the article. It was datelined Cairns and the writer’s name was Bob Beams. That meant nothing to Stephen.

  “Two boys who were bushwalking in the jungle-covered mountains near Cairns in North Queensland have stumbled on one of the greatest mysteries of the aviation world- a German floatplane with World War 2 markings. The plane has obviously crashed a long time ago but still contains the remains of its crew. The actual site is being kept secret for now to protect the aircraft from looters. The boys said they made the grisly find while on a weekend hike in rugged mountain terrain. No doubt this is one of the most puzzling mysteries to surface in many years. Where did the plane come from? When did it crash? Where was it going? Was it on a secret mission during World War 2? This and other questions about this amazing event will be answered in the days and weeks to come as investigators delve into the affair.”

  Stephen read the short article twice more, each time with slowly growing anger. Who was this Bob Beams? How dare he use Graham’s photos without permission! And how dare he quote us when he hasn’t even interviewed us!

  But then a horrible thought formed in Stephen’s brain: maybe he had Graham’s permission? Stephen was loath to think ill of his friend but the ugly thought wormed its way in. Did he? Had Graham spoken to the man?

  Feeling sick and betrayed Stephen swore, then stood up and strode to the phone. “I have to know!” he muttered.

  He dialled the number and then waited impatiently until it was answered. It was Graham’s mother. “Yes, who is it?” she asked.

  “Stephen Mrs Kirk. Can I speak to Graham?”

  “It’s a bit early!” Mrs Kirk replied crossly. “Do you know what time it is?”

  Stephen hadn’t bothered to check, was only aware that it was daylight. A glance at the wall clock told him it was only 6:15. “Sorry,” he replied. “But it is urgent.”

  “Oh all right!”

  A couple of minutes later a grumpy Graham answered the phone. “What is it?”

  “Have you seen the paper this morning?” Stephen asked.

  “All I’ve seen is the back of my eyelids,” Graham replied testily.

  “Well you’d better read it today,” Stephen went on. “We are both in for big trouble I think.”

  “What sort of trouble?” Graham, asked.

  “Did you talk to any reporters about what we found?” Stephen asked.

  “No. Mum wouldn’t let me. She sent them away or hung up,” Graham replied. “What’s going on?”

  “What about those photos? Did you show them to anyone?” Stephen asked. He hated asking but just had to know.

  “No!” Graham replied, annoyance clear in his voice. “I haven’t seen the bloody things myself yet. Mum only put them in to be printed yesterday afternoon.”

  “Well somebody has, because they are headlines in the paper this morning,” Stephen said.

  “Well it wasn’t me!” Graham replied angrily. “I said I wouldn’t and I didn’t!”

  “Sorry. But I just have to know,” Stephen said. “I promised the people at the German Embassy not to say anything until they could organize things properly and now it is all over the front page.”

  “What can we do about it?” Graham asked.

  “I’ll ring the German Embassy now,” Stephen said. “Then I’m going to find this bastard Bob Beams and find out how he got the story.”

  At that Stephen’s father spoke from behind him, “Oh no you won’t! I will attend to that.”

  Stephen hadn’t heard his father come along the hallway but now saw that he was look
ing at the headlines of the paper lying on the side table. “Sorry dad. Look, you don’t know any of this but it is very important to me.”

  His father nodded. “Your mother said there was something, but that she wasn’t allowed to say, so I didn’t ask. Don’t tell me if you shouldn’t.”

  Graham’s voice sounded faintly from the telephone. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “OK dad. Just a minute. Hello Graham? My dad’s here and I need to talk to him. I’ll see you at school, bye,” Stephen answered. He hung up and sat down to face his father.

  Twenty minutes later Stephen again reached for the phone, intending to ring the German Embassy. He was about to pick it up when it suddenly rang. Stephen was so tense he snatched his hand back, then gave his father a foolish grin before picking it up. “Hello. Who is it?”

  “This is Jake Carmody from ‘The National Newspaper’. Is that the residence of Stephen Bell?”

  “Yes,” Stephen replied automatically, then bit his lip wishing he hadn’t.

  “Could I speak to Stephen Bell, the kid who found the crashed German plane?”

  At that Stephen’s annoyance took over. “I’m that kid as you put it. If you want information please ring the German Embassy.”

  “I have but they just gave me the ‘no comment’ routine,” the man replied.

  “Sorry, that’s all you’ll get from me too,” Stephen answered.

  “Oh don’t be like that kid. This is big news, and there is money in it too,” the man said.

  Stephen was still stunned from hearing that the German Embassy had already been called. Now the mention of money sparked a surge of white-hot rage. Thoughts of the dead aircrew flashed through his brain. Without saying anything else he slammed the phone down.

  “What was that all about son?” his father asked.

  Stephen told him, all the while shaking his head in dismay. Then he again lifted the phone and called the German Embassy. This time he was put through almost immediately to Herr Dettweiler. The man was obviously not happy.

  “I thought you agreed not to tell anyone until we had time to make arrangements,” Herr Dettweiler said.

  “I didn’t tell anyone. I can only assume that someone saw the photos my friend put in to get printed and realised what they were,” Stephen replied.

  “Or your friend sold them,” Herr Dettweiler suggested.

  “No. Graham wouldn’t do that,” Stephen replied, stoutly defending his friend while inside the terrible suspicions churned.

  “Maybe. But now the cat is out of der bag. We must now move more quickly. We will have someone in Cairns by this afternoon. Will you be available to speak with them?”

  “Yes sir. I will be at school till three. Then I will come home,” Stephen replied.

  “Can you please tell me the name of your school,” Herr Dettweiler asked.

  Stephen told him. Herr Dettweiler then asked, “Can you please have the photos ready for us by then?”

  “Yes, of course,” Stephen replied. ‘I’ll have to get Graham to get them,’ he thought.

  “And please, no more interviews to the media,” Herr Dettweiler requested.

  Stephen was now intrigued. “How did you find out sir?”

  Herr Dettweiler took a deep breath. “Your local newspaper is part of a national syndicate. The photos and story were front page in Canberra, Sydney and Melbourne. We had received ten calls before six this morning, and then Berlin was on the line.”

  “Berlin!” Stephen cried in astonishment.

  “Yes. The story was on the World News on TV at ten, that is ten O’clock last night in Europe.”

  Stephen was even more astonished. Half his mind tried to grapple with the time difference between Australia and Germany while the other half boggled at the thought that the discovery was world news.

  Herr Dettweiler spoke again. “This is going to be a very big story. So, I will ring off as I have many arrangements to make. We will be in touch.”

  Herr Dettweiler hung up and so did Stephen. No sooner had he put the phone down than it rang again. Hoping it was Graham or Peter Stephen picked it up. It was neither. It was a newspaper in Sydney. As politely as he could Stephen directed them to the German Embassy and hung up, only to have the phone ring again.

  His father held out his hand. “I’ll answer it son,” he said. Stephen thanked him and stood up. His father lifted the receiver and listened, then called, “It’s Peter.”

  Feeling slightly foolish Stephen took the phone. Peter wanted to know if he had seen the paper. “Yes I have,” Stephen replied, experiencing a rush of guilt as he did.

  “Did you or Graham find that wrecked German plane up on Black Mountain?” Peter asked.

  “I found it,” Stephen relied. “It was on the mountainside just near the other wreck. Graham took the photos.”

  “You might have told us,” Peter said, the tone of his voice distinctly accusatory.

  “We thought about and decided that the fewer people who knew the better,” Stephen answered. “It wasn’t because we don’t trust you. It was just to avoid any little slip.”

  “So who put it in the paper?” Peter asked, his tone tinged with sarcasm.

  Stephen felt sick inside at the implication. “I don’t know. Nor does Graham. We think that someone printing the photos saw them and realised what they were.”

  “I see,” Peter replied coldly.

  “Pete, it’s not like that. Give us a chance to explain,” Stephen pleaded.

  “OK. Are you coming to school today?”

  “Yes. I will tell everything I know then, but please Pete, not a word to anyone.”

  Peter agreed to this but still sounded put out. Feeling mildly upset Stephen put the receiver down, only to have the phone instantly ring again. His father waved him away. “Go and have your breakfast and get ready for school.”

  Stephen did so. By the time he had showered, shaved and dressed three more newspapers or TV stations had rung, all offering money and asking for the story. Then the door bell rang. Mr Bell answered it. Stephen saw that a red-faced, beefy man in his late thirties or early forties and wearing a crumpled looking suit stood there. The man had a big cheesy grin and a loud manner. What really put Stephen off was that the man’s tie was pulled down a few centimetres and was slightly awry.

  The man thrust out his hand. “Hi! I’m Bob Beams,” he man boomed.

  Mr Bell ignored the hand and turned to Stephen. “Go inside son. I’ll deal with this.” Stephen did as he was told, but really wanted to stay. He did overhear his father saying things like: ‘unmitigated cheek’, ‘serious misrepresentation’ and ‘downright lies, not to mention theft’. By then Stephen was listening at the windows. His mother joined him behind the curtains and they grinned at each other as Mr Bell threatened the man with legal action and ordered him off the property.

  Then the phone rang again. Stephen answered it and found himself talking to an American aircraft buff who lived in Michigan. The man was willing to pay ‘big bucks’ for the wreck. ‘I don’t believe this!’ Stephen thought in astonishment as he thanked the man and told him he would have to deal with the German Embassy. ‘World news alright!’

  Then, to his own hurt surprise, he found avarice taking a grip. ‘There is a lot of money to be made here. Maybe.....?’ Disgusted with his own weakness he went to get ready for school. To his secret shame the thoughts of wealth kept returning but he said nothing, secretly hoping his parents might make some arrangement.

  When it was time to go to school a big van drove into the front driveway:- a TV crew wanting an interview. Stephen’s parents rushed out and intercepted them. Stephen just told them to ask the German Embassy. His mother led him back inside as his father talked to them.

  “I think you’d better be driven to school today,” his mother said.

  “Aw mum! I need my bike,” Stephen said.

  “Why?”

  “Graham and I have to collect the photos of the wreck,” Stephen replied.

&
nbsp; “No. I think your father should do that. The person at the photo shop may be the person who told the newspapers,” his mother replied.

  “I think he is,” Stephen replied, “but Graham’s mum put the camera in. Won’t she have to be the one to collect?”

  “We will organize it, now get in the car,” his mother ordered.

  Stephen did so. Both his parents came with him. When they got to school both went in with him and went up to the principal’s office to explain things. Mr Croswell shook his head in amazement but assured them that if any reporters or other strangers came onto Education Department property to annoy Stephen or Graham he would phone the police. He also assured them the official from the German Embassy would only interview the boys with himself present, if he could not contact the parents. Satisfied with that Stephen’s parents bade him good bye. To Stephen’s embarrassment his mother kissed him.

  “You take care now Stephen,” she said.

  “Aw mum! Fair go! I’m not a primary school kid. I’m in Year Twelve now,” Stephen protested.

  After his parents had gone Stephen made his way downstairs and went to the usual area where he and his friends ‘hung out’. None of the hiking team were there yet, only Willy Williams, their Air Cadet friend, and his girlfriend Marjorie. Willy was intensely interested and at once began to pump Stephen for information. Stephen firmly asked him to wait till the others were there. Willy agreed to this and they chatted about cadets till the others arrived.

  Roger was next to arrive. He gave Stephen a hurt look but said nothing. Then Peter and Graham both joined them. Graham said that his mother had just been to see the principal.

  Stephen nodded and said, “So did my oldies. Is your mum going to get the photos?”

  “She is going now. She says she is meeting your dad and he is going to have a lawyer with them,” Graham replied.

  “Good! If the camera shop person sold them he is a thief,” Stephen said. He was irritable and annoyed, partly because now nervous exhaustion was tiring him out.