Airplane (2)

“Tell me about SuperDuck,” Handsome said to Harkaway.

“It’s Mad Brian’s latest thing. He dresses up as a duck superhero. Why, you didn’t think he was real did you?”

“Of course I didn’t think he was real. I just found it strange, you mention SuperDuck as a suspect and an hour or so later he hands himself in. How long’s Mad Brian been SuperDuck?”

“Not long. Think there was a movie out on the mainland.”

“God. That’s why I don’t go to the cinema any more, they’re scrapping the bottom of the superhero barrel these days.”

“Where we heading?  To interview the Duck?”

“No, that’ll wait. Drive back to the crash site, I’ll see if Anderson’s arrived.”

“Anderson? Mainlander Anderson?”

“Yes, well they’re hardly going to leave a case of rare animal trafficking to us. Far too interesting. They didn’t even let me keep that missing halibut case.”

“Still, bit early for a mainlander. It’s barely seven. He won’t surface for another few hours.”

“Even better, I should be able to do a bit of snooping before he gets here. Don’t say anything about SuperDuck when he does arrive. Imagine the rumours he’d start, a plane crashes and the first thing we do is arrest a man dressed as a duck. It’s things like that give Boonhill a bad name.”

As expected, there was no sign of Anderson when they arrived back at the crash site, though there was another car there. Handsome recognised Rosti, the island’s sole forensics professional, whose nose was already inside the plane.

“Dirk,” he called.

Rosti removed himself from the wreckage. “Kit,” he said. “I hope you like your Amazonian parrots well-done.”

“What can you tell me? Recognise the plane?”

“No, not from round here. Probably an outlander. It looks like any identifying marks have been painted over. 

“What caused it?”

“Too early to say. Either the pilot made an error or the equipment went wrong. Or both.”

“Accident?”

“Again, too early to say. Could be sabotage, but it was dark, foggy, the pilot probably didn’t know the area. We won’t know ‘til we’ve had a proper tinker. Hear you’ve arrested a suspect.”

“I’d rather you didn’t say anything about that to Anderson. He can be sarcastic about that kind of thing. Any idea where it might have planned to land?”

Rosti shrugged. “Could be anywhere. It’s all flat over this side, lots of farmland, not much in the way of woods. Best thing you could do is take a plane over and look for lights, you’d probably need quite a rig and they might have left in a hurry when it all went tits up.”

“Good thinking, I’ll talk to Anderson. He’ll have access to that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, you could wait for that mainland sleepyhead. Or you could go and talk to Wenders in the Tower. He’ll sort you a plane out, bound to be lots of pilots keen to have a snoop.”

“Might as well, I need to talk to him anyway.”

“To the Tower,” he said to Harkaway back at the car. “We’re off to see wonderful, wonderful Wenders.”

Harkaway drove. He wasn’t one for small talk and he was still learning his way round the confusing web of tracks that passed for Bonhill’s road system.

“We’ve got two things we want from Wenders,” Handsome said. “Clearly I need to ask him about the plane, and any other planes. But we also need a plane.”

“So we’re asking about planes, planes and planes. Like trains, boats and planes but without the variety.”

“When did you become the chatterbox? Just drive, I’ve got some thinking to do.”

Handsome did his thinking, talking out loud through every possible idea that entered his head, the verbal equivalent of a writer in permanent first draft mode.

Wenders was outside the Tower when they arrived, having a fag.

“Wenders.”

“Kit. Thought you’d turn up. Wan’ a rollie?”

“Not for me. Any chance of a plane?”

“A plane?”

“Need to get an aerial view, see if anyone’s left their landing lights on.”

“Well, you’re lucky there, I’ve had a couple of pilots show up wanting to have a nose. You want to take a trip with Penny?”

“Me? You won’t catch me in one of those things. Especially not after what I’ve seen today. Can’t I give Penny some instructions and send her up.”

“I’ll go,” said Harkaway excitedly. “I’ve never been up in a proper plane.”

 

“Fine,” said Wenders, “I’ll introduce you to Penny.”

When Harkway was safely up in the air, Handsome showed Wenders some photos of the plane he’d taken at the crash site. 

“Recognise it?”

“Na, not from round here. Probably an outlander. It’s a Cheroke, single engine, about twenty years old. Lots of foam on it. That’s all I can tell you.”

“It was an unregistered flight, Megson tells me.”

“That’s right. I mean, I’m a busy man these days, planes going in and out all hours, like a poor man’s Heathrow, but even I have to draw the line at 5.00 a.m.”

“Could it have landed here, without you knowing.”

“Na, I only live down the road. Anyone use this airfield without permission I’d a been straight on ‘em.”

“So where would it land?”

“Could be anywhere. I always say this is the flattest island in the world named after a hill.”

“Do you think there have been other unregistered flights.”

“I wouldn’t know, would I, they’re not registered?” ‘Ere, let me show you my new kit.” Kit followed Wenders up the steps of the tower, where he pointed to a slightly rusty looking piece of radar.

“This is my new girl, state of the art technology. She’s got crash-prevention hardware. Makes us the safest airport off the mainland, any time two planes are about to collide that light flashes.”

“Impressive.”

“Need it these days. Busy, busy, busy. I had sixteen planes go in and out last Tuesday. Time was people would get the boat from the mainland, but not these days, everyone’s jetting in and out, buying planes, hiring choppers, and there’s only one me. Ah, I gotta get another fag. You coming out with me?”

“What about the crash prevention technology?”

“Ah, don’t worry, nobody’ll nick it.”

“You smoke a lot?”

“More than I should. It’s a pain having to smoke outdoors, all this health and safety, it’s a nonsense.”

“What happens if someone wants to land while you’re having a fag break?”

“That’s the worst thing about it, Kit. I has to put me fag out and go back to work. Like now, look, there’s Penny and your young man, back from their big exploration.”

However, Penny exited the plane alone.

“What you done, thrown ‘im out for bad behaviour?” Wenders asked her.

“Na, bless. He’s still heaving up in the back. Not used to flying proper. He went green when we were two foot off the ground and was playing sick bag solo for the whole journey.”

“Well that’s a waste,” Handsome said. “He was s’posed to be looking out for landing sites.”

“No worries Kit,” Penny said, “I got eyes too you know. We got lucky, a bloody great stack of lights just off Trackless Nowhere. I scribbled down the coordinates, and I took some pictures too. Like the tache by the way.”

“Thanks Pen. Can you text me the photos. I’ll give you my number.”

“Oh, I’ve still got your number Kit. I’ll send you any photos you like, you know that. You just have to ask.”

“Thanks Pen. Thanks Wenders.”

“No problem Kit. I’d better be heading back to the Tower, in case the crash-prevention machine’s flashing it’s final warning signal again. Let me know what you find out.”