Part 14 (2/2)
”In the beginning, I think some pa.s.sengers were concerned about the light, but after that, when the plane began its descent, I'm sure that was the motivation for most of the fear and noise.”
A knock came from the door.
”Come in,” Suter said over his shoulder.
A jowly man in a pin-striped dress s.h.i.+rt and tie stepped into the room. When he locked eyes with Ping, all the color drained from his face.
”Mr. Pirelli, this is Mr. Ping, one of the pa.s.sengers from Flight 559,” Suter said.
”Ah,” Pirelli nodded and looked away quickly. ”Of course, pa.s.senger interviews.”
”Have we met before?” Ping asked.
”Oh, no. No, I don't think so. I'm not even from Portland,” Pirelli said.
”What can we help you with?” Bohannon asked Pirelli.
”I needed to talk to the two of you out here in the hallway for a few minutes. Mr. Ping, can you excuse us for a couple minutes?” Pirelli asked.
”Actually if you can point me to the restroom, I'll excuse myself, and you can talk here.”
”Just go to the end of the hallway and take a left,” Bohannon said.
Ping got up and walked around the table. Pirelli stepped out into the hallway to let Ping exit the room. As Ping got to the end of the hallway and turned left, he looked back down the hall. Pirelli stared after him but quickly turned away.
”Man, I'm sorry. I was not ready for that,” Pirelli said as he closed the door.
”Ready for what?” Suter asked.
”I saw his dead body just a few days ago. It is hard to believe there's another copy of him running around alive out here. Coming face-to-face with it is almost too much to deal with,” Pirelli said. He wiped his brow with his bare hand. ”Sheesh, that was weird.”
”There are so many bodies, I can't see how you would remember anyone well enough to recognize them,” Bohannon said.
”I think he might have been the only Asian on the flight. That's why I remembered him.”
”Strange stuff, no doubt about that,” Suter said without a hint of commiseration. ”So what did you want to talk to us about?”
”I need some guidance on whether we are going to need resources to interview pa.s.sengers outside of Portland. We've got people all over the country, some even outside the US.”
”We have not uncovered any information that links to a pa.s.senger outside of Portland. The only lead we have points to this Mara Lantern girl, the one we don't have a dead body for,” Suter said. ”I don't think we need to talk to people outside of Portland.”
Bohannon nodded.
”Okay, let me know immediately if anything changes,” Pirelli said, turning to the door. ”Sorry about that thing earlier. I'll need to figure out a way of keeping a poker face the next time I encounter one of our dead pa.s.sengers.”
Pirelli opened the door and nodded at Ping in the hall.
”Just a few more questions, and we should be able to wrap this up, Mr. Ping,” Suter said after they took their places around the table. ”So you did not see where this light was coming from during the flight. Did you see a red-headed boy running in the aisle or a young woman chasing him?”
”No, like I said, I was in a window seat.”
”Do you know a young lady named Mara Lantern?”
”Yes. She works at a repair shop next door to my business.”
”What a coincidence. Were the two of you traveling together on the flight?”
”No, we are just acquaintances. It was happenstance we took the same flight to San Francisco.”
”Did you see her get up, leave her seat during the flight?”
”No. I'm not even sure where she was seated. I think she may have been farther back in the plane than me.”
”Did you see or hear an explosion prior to the plane going down?”
”No, no explosion.”
”I think that does it for now, Mr. Ping. If we have any further questions, we'll be in touch,” Suter said.
CHAPTER 24.
”ACCORDING TO THE newspaper, the investigators have reconstructed the airplane from our flight in that hangar,” Ping said, pointing across the dark road. He and Sam had pulled into a s.h.i.+pping company's unlit parking lot across the street. ”Now, you stay right here and keep watch. Do not leave the car.”
”Okay, I'm not going anywhere. I'll do exactly what you told me,” Sam said.
”Right, if you see someone pull into the lot across the street, you send me a text message. Nothing else. Don't get out and do anything else, got it?”
”I got it. I won't get out of the car.”
”If I get caught or tied up in there, I'll text you. If that happens, there's a motel about a mile that way. Go there and get a cab back to my house.”
Sam nodded. Ping reached for the door, hesitated, then locked eyes with Sam. ”You promise?”
”Just go. Don't worry.” Sam rolled his eyes, slouched back in his seat.
Ping got out, jogged across the street and turned before getting to the hangar parking lot. He had driven past the building several times and identified the door he planned to enter. The guards had regular twenty-minute rounds and stopped every three rounds to smoke in the parking lot. They were just about due for a break and would not see him if things worked out.
The door featured a vertical pane of wired gla.s.s just above the handle, which he chipped away at with a chisel and hammer. He covered the end of the chisel with an old sweats.h.i.+rt to m.u.f.fle the sound. Five minutes later he had a hole in the window large enough to reach through. He pressed the door release bar.
Entering the midpoint of the building, Ping found himself directly behind the partially reconstructed plane. He paused at the sight of the gutted airliner, pondered how lucky he was to be alive. Silently he stood in the darkness, thinking about his new life in this new reality and hoped he would be able to stay.
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