The Ghost of Captain Hinchliffe

by David Dennington

  “Yes, yes, of course, Sir Arthur, it is an honor, sir.” Thomson paused and then gave him a crooked smile. “Although, I must say, we were all a little cross with you for killing off poor old Sherlock Holmes!”

  Doyle came right back at him. “But I don't propose to kill any real people, sir!”

  Thomson turned abruptly on his heel. “I must get started. Please excuse me,” he said, hurrying off to the steps up to the stage. He walked stiffly across to join Colmore, Brancker, Knoxwood, Scott and Richmond. As he approached, they got to their feet, applauding and smiling. Thomson sat down. Colmore went to the lectern and waited for the applause to die down. All seats were occupied and the aisles down each side were filled with people standing between the chairs and hedges.

  Colmore cleared his throat and adjusted the microphone, causing a screeching whine from the speakers each side of the podium.

  “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. It is my distinct pleasure to introduce the Minister of State for Air, Lord Thomson of Cardington, whom we all know and admire. He’d like to say a few words concerning our progress and the future of the British Airship Program. Before I turn over the microphone, I must remind you that we owe him a debt of gratitude, not only for revitalizing the program, but for making the Royal Airship Works central to his great vision.”

  There was more enthusiastic applause. Thomson got up and stepped up to the lectern. He adjusted the microphone up six inches, causing another ear-splitting screech.

  “Wing Commander Colmore is much, much too kind,” Thomson said. “I’m just one man doing my small part. It is you who will make this program a success, not I. My job is to jolly things along. This great endeavor that you’ve worked upon with such selfless dedication—and I must say, I’ve seen it with my own two eyes today—is one that will open the skies for the benefit of all mankind.

  “We’ve reached a critical stage in the development of the program. In some ways, we’re out in front—from the technology standpoint. But in other ways, on the practical front, we’re falling behind. The Germans made their maiden flight last year, crossing the Atlantic in their Graf Zeppelin. They’re preparing to make a round-the-world trip in August, and if we’re not careful, we’ll be in a position where we cannot keep pace.”

  He scanned the dejected faces.

  “With this in mind, I say to you: We must push hard to produce results as quickly as possible. We must show the world what we can do. It’s been more than five years since I announced the start of the program and our ships are still in their sheds! I’ll leave it there. I know you appreciate what I’m saying, and why.”

  Thomson was careful not to single anyone out with his icy stare, but could see the audience understood only too well. Richmond and Colmore had taken his words to heart. It was time to build them back up.

  “Having said that, I’m certain we’ll come out on top. When this ship emerges from her shed this year, she’ll be the finest airship ever built—about that, I have no doubt at all.”

  Thomson looked reassuringly at Richmond, but Richmond didn’t exude confidence. Thomson went on.

  “Now, we’ve embarked upon a great journey, you and I, and I look forward to the day when we fly together in this magnificent airship down the route of Marco Polo to India. And thereafter, we shall press forward with airship services linking our great empire around the globe and build bigger, more advanced airships that will be technological marvels of the world.”

  Thomson stepped back and the crowd was on its feet, applauding. He’d rallied the troops. Hunter stood up as the noise died down.

  “Lord Thomson, George Hunter, Daily Express, I have a question,” he called.

  “Well, all right, just one or two,” Thomson said brightly.

  “Just how safe do you think this airship really is? Our experiences to date have been quite abysmal!”

  Thomson remembered having trouble with this one before. He grimaced. “That's a perfectly fair question, and I'm so glad you've asked it. This will be the safest airship ever built. It'll have diesel engines, making her much safer from fire.”

  But Millie's soft voice from the front row came like an explosion.

  “But the starter engines are petrol-driven are they not, Lord Thomson?”

  Thomson was floored by this question out of the blue—and from a woman! He looked helplessly at Richmond who nodded—'Yes, she’s right'. Reporters were scribbling furiously, sensing a story here.

  “So, with five million cubic feet of hydrogen, it would only take one small spark, would it not?” Millie pressed.

  Thomson was furious. How did this woman get in here?

  Millie was surprised at her own boldness. Her voice grew stronger.

  “Even static electricity could be highly dangerous, could it not? My husband says that these railway engines are too heavy. He says they're underpowered and their massive surging thrust will cause them not to be properly stabilized. He says the cover will also be a big problem. It'll flake off. You're planning to dope it with a highly dangerous flammable mixture of iron oxide and powdered aluminum ...”

  Thomson was completely flummoxed. He switched off the microphone. The audience at the back couldn't hear Millie, and he was glad of that.

  “I don't know where you're getting all this information from, madam—much of this is top secret,” he snapped.

  Millie shouted; most couldn't hear her, but the reporters at the front did. “I got it from my husband, Captain Raymond Hinchliffe. He has sent me here to deliver a warning: This Airship Program must be stopped at all costs!”

  This was all very embarrassing for Thomson. There was a collective moan from some workers. Reporters were looking at one another, eyebrows raised, smirking and puzzled, as if to say, 'Now this is a right turn up for the book!'

  Thomson controlled his seething anger well and tried a soft tack. He switched the microphone back on.

  “My dear lady, I know you have been through a lot. We all do. Your husband was a brave and gallant man. He was the type of man who helped build this great empire. All heads had turned in Millie's direction, muttering and nodding. Thomson continued, “As far as your claims are concerned, however nebulous they may be, I want to assure you that the team here at Cardington have gone to extreme lengths to ensure the safety of all those who fly in this great airship. Safety first is our motto and safety second as well! Thank you all for coming.”

  Without further ado, Thomson descended and marched up the aisle to the steps of the great house, followed by those on the stage. They reached the throng of people at the top of the aisle which parted like the Red Sea. Thomson climbed the steps, followed by the multitude. When he reached the top, he gave the crowd a jubilant wave. He swept into the reception room and stopped.

  “What the hell are those people doing here?” he growled.

  “If you don't mind, CB, I'll go and talk to her,” Brancker said.

  “Be quick!” Thomson answered, pacing around.

  Brancker retraced his steps and shouldered his way through the crowd to Millie, who was still seated. “Millie, God bless my soul! I had no idea you were here!” he said breathlessly, grabbing Doyle's hand and shaking it. “Sir Arthur! Millie, I wish you'd spoken to me before you did this.”

  “I didn't expect it to happen quite the way it did. We need to talk, Sir Sefton, it's important,” Millie answered.

  “I'll be away for a day or so. I'll contact you on my return, I promise,” Brancker replied. He apologized and returned to Thomson at the main house where they continued their exit down the front steps to the Humber. The driver held the doors open and the threesome climbed in. They drove off slowly, the driver tooting his horn, Thomson waving his royal wave. The men in bowlers followed behind.

  “Well, I think the day went off all right, except for that damned Hinchliffe woman at the end. We’ll need to keep an eye on her—she's a threat to national security,” Thomson said. “What did you say to her?”

  “I told her I'd contact her
. I'll try and smooth the waters when I see her.”

  “Fwankly, Minister, I thought you were marvelous. I shouldn’t worry about her,” Knoxwood said.

  “I'd better talk to Doyle. Get him to come and see me—soon as possible!” Thomson thundered.

  “Right you are, Minister. Will do,” Knoxwood answered.

  27

  WHEN THE SPEECH WAS OVER

  Wednesday, June 19, 1929.

  The press was abuzz after the unexpected turns in the garden and clamored for more. Reporters milled around Doyle and Millie as they left the garden. On her way, Millie received a sympathetic smile from a young airshipman in American Naval uniform. She remembered him from when she'd met him in the Kings Arms, when she and Hinchliffe had visited two years earlier.

  Such a good-looking man!

  George Hunter was among the reporters, but he was playing his role at arm's length. Photographers took pictures as they climbed into a taxi.

  “Mrs. Hinchliffe, are you planning to do any more about your husband's warning?”

  “Definitely. Everyone should take it very seriously!”

  The reporters were feverishly writing. A flurry of questions came through the open window. “What do you think about the situation regarding Miss Mackay's estate?”

  “I'm deeply shocked at the way we've been treated by her family,” Millie replied.

  “Do you think you'll ever get the insurance money?”

  “My husband tells me I will.”

  “Do you have any plan of action regarding the Airship Program?”

  “I most certainly do. Starting this week, I'll be giving a series of speeches around the country. It must be brought to an end.”

  The reporters got everything down. They stared after their disappearing taxi—they had a great story here!

  After Millie had gone, Hinchliffe jumped on the back of Lou Remington's motorcycle and rode with him over to the great shed where they waited beside the control car. It was eerily quiet. Soon they heard the captain's footsteps approaching.

  “Ah, Lou. Let’s go aboard,” Irwin said.

  The three of them climbed on board and Irwin led the way up to the lounge where they sat in the wicker easy chairs at one of the card tables which Remington had set up for Thomson's visit earlier in the day. Hinchliffe could see that Remington was puzzled, not knowing why the captain wanted to speak to him.

  “You and the crew did a great job, Lou. The Old Man was thrilled,” Irwin told him.

  “He ought to be pleased, sir. It’s a beautiful ship,” Lou responded.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Irwin said. “We’ll see what she’s made of when we take her up.” Irwin glanced down at the table for a moment, then back at Lou. “Congratulations on your promotion today.”

  “Thank you, sir. That came as a big surprise.”

  “Everyone was pleased about it. You’ve done a great job at Howden. You’re a natural diplomat. You’ve helped keep the peace.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How’s Charlotte? Is she taking kindly to all this?”

  “I think she’ll be pleased with my promotion, and proud. She’s settled down fairly well here now. She really didn’t want to come down south.”

  “Yes, I got that impression.”

  “She’s been worried about safety, naturally, but everyone’s assured her these new ships will be safe.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Irwin said.

  “Charlotte’s pleased I’m happy and doing what I like. I think once we’ve got a few trips under our belt, she’ll be okay.”

  “She’s a wonderful girl.”

  “What Charlotte needs is a child. In fact, she wants lots of children! But no luck so far. That’s what makes her most unhappy,” Lou said.

  “We want a family one day—we’ve even chosen a name for our first-born,” Irwin said.

  “What is it, sir?”

  Irwin looked away, concentrating on an image in his mind. “D’you know, when I close my eyes sometimes, I can see that child. His name will be Christian. I see his black hair and blue eyes.”

  “Just like his dad.”

  “It’s all up to the good Lord,” Irwin said.

  “I guess so.”

  Irwin turned his eyes back on Remington, his expression now business-like.

  “Lou, I’m going to propose you for another promotion—to third officer—if you want it. You’ll be under my command aboard this ship and Captain Booth on Howden R100.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know what to say, sir.”

  “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and the crewmen look up to you.”

  “I suppose they do.”

  “You survived R38 and that experience will make you careful.”

  “That was just luck.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. I need men with good luck on my ship.”

  “Kind of you to say, sir.”

  “If all the things the Old Man says come true, the sky’s the limit. He’ll be in need of captains for the fleet.”

  They got up and shook hands then went down to the shed floor and stood alongside the ship. Hinchliffe followed them.

  “Oh, one more thing, Lou. I like to see my officers and crew in church on Sundays.” Irwin looked up at the ship, a hint of skepticism in his eyes. “We’ll need all the help we can get,” he said, before abruptly marching off toward the exit.

  Hinchliffe had listened with interest. Irwin obviously had reservations about his ship. He'd get Millie to work on him somehow. Out of curiosity, Hinchliffe decided to stick with Remington and see what his wife had to say. She had doubts by the sound of it. He rode home with Remington and the chief steward's iced cake.

  They arrived at a red brick three-storey terraced house on a quiet street ten minutes later. Before Remington could even put the key in the lock, the door was flung open. A very beautiful girl threw her arms around him, kissing him feverishly. Hinchliffe smiled. He wondered if Remington was greeted like this every time he came home. That couldn’t be bad!

  “Oh, Remy, my darling. I love you so much. I’m sorry I was so mean to you this morning. You will forgive me, won’t you?” the girl said breathlessly. Remington looked surprised, but relieved.

  “Of course, Charlie. You must’ve been tired. I’m sorry I had to be out all day.”

  “Who was that riding on the bike with you?”

  Remington looked puzzled. “What do you mean? No one. I was alone.”

  She looked equally puzzled. “I could swear a man was sitting behind you when you arrived. I was watching for you from the window.”

  “You must be seeing things, honey.”

  “Well anyway, I want to talk to you tonight about things.”

  Ah here we go. Hinchliffe thought.

  “What about, Charlotte?”

  “Well, about us—and ‘things’.”

  This girl's definitely got some issues. Might be interesting, Hinchliffe thought.

  He followed them downstairs to the breakfast table that looked out into the garden. It was still sunny. Flowers were in bloom. Remington unwrapped and placed the chief steward’s cake on the table.

  “What’s that?” she asked, reading the icing.

  “ ‘Congratulations!’ On what?”

  “I’ll tell you in a minute. It’s a present from the chief steward,” Lou said, remaining expressionless. Hinchliffe could see Remington was trying not to laugh.

  “Oh, I see. What’s his name?”

  “Er, I don’t know.”

  Charlotte batted her eyes and pursed her lips. “Oooh, should I be jealous?”

  Remington chuckled. And so did Hinchliffe. Charlotte opened a bottle of white wine and poured two glasses. She held one out to her husband. The kitchen was warm. He breathed in the dinner cooking in the oven. “Smells good,” he said.

  “Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding—your favorite.”

  Mine too, Hinchliffe said to himself.

  “Mmm, lovely.”

  “
Well, how did it go today?”

  Remington’s face lit up. “So much to tell!”

  She was intrigued. “Why? What happened? Tell me!”

  “I took the lads fishing for a while and after that we went to the ship and finished setting up the furniture and I must say, it looked pretty damned good! Then the Old Man arrived. I was stuck on board while Irwin showed him over the ship. I stayed out of sight—I couldn’t very well announce my presence. I heard everything they said. It was embarrassing, actually.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Well, Lord Thomson got a bit flowery about the ship and the future and how he was depending on the captain—and a lot of stuff I should never have heard.”

  “What sort of stuff?”

  “He talked about a woman he hopes to marry one day.”

  “Goodness. Did the captain know you were there?”

  “Nobody knew and I'm not gonna say anything. Anyway, they all went off to the gasbag factory. I put on my uniform and joined them. The Old Man had them old gals over there eatin’ out of his hand. Funny as hell.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Oh, he told them they were special and doing important work and all that old jaboni. He gave them all a boost. They were tickled to death.”

  “That’s good. He must be a very nice man,” Charlotte said.

  “Yeah, he’s all right, I guess. Anyway, we all went to the big house for afternoon tea and sandwiches. And then, you can’t imagine what happened next!”

  Charlotte couldn’t contain herself, “Well, tell me then!”

  “The Old Man got up and gave a short speech.”

  “What about?”

  “Me!” Remington said, cracking up.

  “What!”

  “He said he’d been speaking to the Secretary of the Navy in Washington and he’d asked about me and how I was doing over here.”

  She was all agog. “Oh, go on! … Really?”

  “Yes, and then everyone stood up and Captain Irwin did the honors and I got promoted! I’m now Lieutenant Commander Louis Remington! Ta da!” Remington stood to attention, saluted and then bowed with a flourish, as though to the Queen.