Part 27 (1/2)
”Tanya,” Mel said softly, ”what are you trying to say?”
She answered uncomfortably, ”I'm not sure; that's why I came to you. When I think about it, it seems silly and melodramatic, only...”
”Go on.”
”Well, supposing that man we've been talking about isn't smuggling at all; at least, in the way we've all a.s.sumed. Supposing the reason for him not having any luggage, for being nervous, for holding the case the way Inspector Standish noticed... suppose instead of having some sort of contraband in there... he has a bomb.”
Their eyes held each other's steadily. Mel's mind was speculating, a.s.sessing possibilities. To him, also, the idea which Tanya had just raised seemed ridiculous and remote. Yet... in the past, occasionally, such things had happened. The question was: How could you decide if this was another time? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the entire episode of the man with the attache case could so easily be innocent; in fact, probably was. If that proved true after a fuss had been created, whoever began the fuss would have made a fool of himself. It was human not to want to do that; yet, with the safety of an airplane and pa.s.sengers involved, did making a fool of oneself matter? Obviously not. On the other hand, there ought to be a stronger reason for the drastic actions which a bomb scare would involve than merely a possibility, plus a hunch. Was there, Mel wondered, some way conceivably in which a stronger hint, even corroboration, might be found?
Offhand, be couldn't think of one.
But there was something he could check. It was a long shot, but all that was needed was a phone call. He supposed that seeing Vernon Demerest tonight, with the reminder of the clash before the Board of Airport Commissioners, had made him think of it.
For the second time this evening, Mel consulted his pocket panic-list of telephone numbers. Then, using an internal airport telephone on his desk, he dialed the insurance vending booth in the main concourse. The girl clerk who answered was a long-time employee whom Mel knew well.
”Marj,” he said, when he had identified himself, ”have you written many policies tonight on the Trans America Flight Two?”
”A few more than usual, Mr. Bakersfeld. But then we have on all flights; this kind of weather always does that. On Flight Two, I've had about a dozen, and I know Bunniethat's the other girl on with mehas written some as well.”
”What I'd like you to do,” Mel told her, ”is read me all the names and policy amounts.” As he sensed the girl hesitate, ”If I have to, I'll call your district manager and get authority. But you know he'll give it to me, and I'd like you to take my word that this is important. Doing it this way, you can save me time.”
”All right, Mr. Bakersfeld; if you say it's okay. But it will take a few minutes to get the policies together.”
”I'll wait.”
Mel heard the telephone put down, the girl apologize to someone at the insurance counter for the interruption. There was a rustling of papers, then another girl's voice inquiring, ”Is something wrong?”
Covering the telephone mouthpiece, Mel asked Tanya, ”What's that name you havethe man with the case?”
She consulted a slip of paper. ”Guerrero, or it may be Buerrero; we had it spelled both ways.” She saw Mel start. ”Initials D.O.”
Mel's hand still cupped the telephone. His mind was concentrating. The woman who had been brought to his office half an hour ago was named Guerrero; he remembered Lieutenant Ordway saying so. She was the one whom the airport police had found wandering in the terminal. According to Ned Ordway, the woman was distressed and crying; the police couldn't get any sense from her. Mel was going to try talking to her himself, but hadn't gotten around to it. He had seen the woman on the point of leaving the outer office as the Meadowood delegation came in. Of course, there might be no connection...
Through the telephone, Mel could still hear voices at the insurance booth and, in the background, the noise of the main terminal concourse.
”Tanya,” he said quietly, ”about twenty minutes ago there was a woman in the outside officemiddle-aged, shabbily dressed; she looked wet and draggle-tailed. I believe she left when some other people came in, but she might be stiff around. If she's anywhere outside, bring her in. In any case, if you find her, don't let her get away from you.” Tanya looked puzzled. He added, ”Her name is Mrs. Guerrero.”
As Tanya left the office, the girl clerk at the insurance booth came back on the line. ”I have all those policies, Mr. Bakersfeld. Are you ready if I read the names?”
”Yes, Marj. Go ahead.”
He listened carefully. As a name near the end occurred, he had a sudden sense of tension. For the first time his voice was urgent. ”Tell me about that policy. Did you write it?”
”No. That was one of Bunnie's. I'll let you speak to her.”
He listened to what the other girl had to say and asked two or three questions. Their exchange was brief. He broke the connection and was dialing another number as Tanya returned. Though her eyes asked questions which for the moment he ignored, she reported immediately, ”There's no one on the mezzanine. There are still a million people down below, but you'd never pick anyone out. Should we page?”
”We can try, though I don't have a lot of hope.” On the basis of what he had learned, Mel thought, not much was getting through to the Guerrero woman, so it was unlikely that a p.a. announcement would do so now. Also, by this time she could have left the airport and be halfway to the city. He reproached himself for not having tried to talk with her, as he had intended, but there had been the other things: the delegation from Meadowood; his anxiety about his brother, KeithMel remembered that he had considered going back to the control tower... well, that would have to wait now... then there had been Cindy. With a guilty start because he hadn't noticed before, he realized that Cindy was gone.
He reached for the p.a. microphone on his desk and pushed it toward Tanya.
There was an answer from the number he had dialed, which was airport police headquarters. Mel said crisply, ”I want Lieutenant Ordway. Is he still in the terminal?”
”Yes, sir.” The police desk sergeant was familiar with Mel's voice.
”Find him as quickly as you can; I'll hold. And by the way, what was the first name of a woman called Guerrero, whom one of your people picked up tonight? I think I know, but I want to make sure.”
”Just a minute, sir. I'll look.” A moment later he said, ”It's Inez; Inez Guerrero. And we've already called the lieutenant on his beeper box.”
Mel was aware that Lieutenant Ordway, like many others at the airport, carried a pocket radio receiver which gave a ”beep” signal if he was required urgently. Somewhere, at this moment, Ordway was undoubtedly hastening to a phone.
Mel gave brief instructions to Tanya, then pressed the ”on” switch of the p.a. microphone, which overrode all others in the terminal. Through the open doors to the anteroom and mezzanine he heard an American Airlines flight departure announcement halt abruptly in mid-sentence. Only twice before, during the eight years of Mel's tenure as airport general manager, had the mike and override switch been used. The first occas...o...b..anded in Mel's memoryhad been to announce the death of President Kennedy; the second, a year later, was when a lost and crying child wandered directly into Mel's office. Usually there were regular procedures for handling lost children, but that time Mel had used the mike himself to locate the frantic parents.
Now he nodded to Tanya to begin her announcement, remembering that he was not yet sure why they wanted the woman, Inez Guerrero, or even thatfor certain there was anything wrong at all. Yet instinct told him that there was; that something serious had happened, or was happening; and when you had a puzzle of that kind, the smart and urgent thing to do was gather all the pieces that you could, hoping that somehow, with help from other people, you could fit them together to make sense.
”Attention please,” Tanya was saying in her clear, unaffected voice, now audible in every comer of the terminal. ”Will Mrs. Inez Guerrero, or Buerrero, please come immediately to the airport general manager's office on the administrative mezzanine of the main terminal building. Ask any airline or airport representative to direct you. I will repeat...”
There was a click in Mel's telephone. Lieutenant Ordway came on the line.
”We want that woman,” Mel told him. ”The one who was hereGuerrero. We're announcing...”
”I know,” Ordway said. ”I can hear.”
”We need her urgently; I'll explain later. For now, take my word...”
”I already have. When did you last see her?”
”In my outer office. When she was with you.”
”Okay. Anything else?”
”Only that this may be big. I suggest you drop everything; use all your men. And whether you find her or not, get up here soon.”
”Right.” There was another click as Ordway hung up.
Tanya had finished her announcement; she pushed the ”off” b.u.t.ton of the microphone. Outside, Mel could hear another announcement begin, ”Attention Mr. Lester Mainwaring. Will Mr. Mainwaring and all members of his party report immediately to the main terminal entrance?”
”Lester Mainwaring” was an airport code name for policeman.” Normally, such an announcement meant that the nearest policeman on duty was to go wherever the message designated. ”All members of his party” meant every policeman in the terminal. Most airports had similar systems to alert their police without the public being made aware.
Ordway was wasting no time. Undoubtedly he would brief his men about Inez Guerrero as they reported to the main entrance.
”Call your D.T.M.,” Mel instructed Tanya. ”Ask him to come to this office as quickly as he can. Tell him it's important.” Partly to himself, he added, ”We'll start by getting everybody here.” Tanya made the call, then reported, ”He's on his way.” Her voice betrayed nervousness.
Mel had gone to the office door. He closed it.
”You still haven't told me,” Tanya said, ”what it was you found out.”