The Passenger (The Passenger, #1)(68)

What is it that I’m not telling you?

I dont know. What is it that you’ve never told anyone?

Probably lots of things.

Other than things you might be ashamed of.

Still lots.

I think there may be things we keep to ourselves for reasons pretty much unknown to us.

When I was thirteen I found a wrecked airplane in the woods.

Okay. And you never told anyone.

No.

Was there anyone in the plane?

Yes. The pilot.

He was dead.

Yes.

You were by yourself.

Yes. Well, I had my dog with me.

Why didnt you tell anyone?

I dont know. I was scared.

You’d never seen a dead man before.

No.

How long had he been dead?

I dont know. A few days. A week. It was cold. Winter. There was snow on the ground. He was slumped over in the cockpit. The plane was jammed up against a tree.

Were they looking for the plane?

Yes. It was in a National Forest in East Tennessee. It had snowed and it wasnt that easy to see it.

How long was it before they found it?

A week maybe. I think it was about a week later. That they found it.

That’s a strange tale.

I suppose.

There’s something else.

I guess what was strange was that I knew the plane. I knew what it was.

You knew the plane.

Yes. I’d never made a model of it but I knew the plane.

You built model airplanes.

Yes. This was a fairly exotic plane. A Laird-Turner Meteor. An antique closed cockpit racing plane.

What was it doing in such a remote area?

He was on his way to a meet at Tullahoma Tennessee.

How did you get my name?

I’m sorry?

How did you get my name?

I got it out of the phone book.

Why me?

Why not?

You just closed your eyes and there I was.

I thought you were probably Jewish.

Really.

Yes.

In spite of the spelling.

Yes. Are you Jewish?

Yes. Do you know how many Jews there are in private investigation?

No.

Me.

That cant be true.

No. But close.

Why is that?

I think it lacks panache.

But not for you.

Apparently not. Do you think that you’re in danger?

I dont know. I dont know what I would do about it if I were.

The underwater plane. You went back out to look for it.

Yes. I’m pretty sure the buoy was gone. I dont know. I could have missed it. The water was pretty rough.

Do you really think that there was somebody on the oil rig?

I did. Now I’m not so sure.

The racing plane in the woods in the snow. You went back to see it too.

Yes.

The next day?

Two days later.

Did you take your dog?

No.

Why not?

Because it seemed to make him nervous.

Do you think he knew there was a dead man in the plane?

I think he did. Yes.

How would he know that?

I dont know.

You took something.

I took something?

From the plane.

Yes.

Okay.

I cut a piece of linen out of the fuselage. With the number 22 on it. A big square. Like a flag.

This was a pretty exotic airplane.

Yes. It was a beautiful thing. Very fast. It had a Pratt & Whitney fourteen cylinder radial engine that put out a thousand horsepower. This was 1937. Ford automobiles at that time put out eighty-five horsepower. The top of the line V-8s. The downscale version put out sixty. You just wanted to talk to the guys who designed it.

The plane.

Yes. These were twentieth century Leonardos. If not Martians.

So what did you think when you saw it lying in the woods?

I thought it was about as strange a thing as I’d ever seen.

Coming upon airplanes with bodies in them I’m going to say is a fairly unusual experience. But for you it seems to be commonplace.

Commonplace.

Statistically speaking. Multiple millions of times more than the average citizen might experience.

Am I supposed to be superstitious?

Deep sea diving. Car racing. What. A love of hazard?

I dont know.

What do you want me to do for you?

Tell me what I should do to stay alive I suppose.

Some guy out of the telephone directory.

Yes.

I guess I would say just in general that the more seriously you take all this the longer you’re likely to be around.

All right.

Do you carry a gun?

No. I own one. You think I should carry it?

Statistically it will shorten your life, not lengthen it. The unpleasant truth is that if someone is trying to kill you there is not a whole lot you can do about it. Your only real safety would be in disappearing. And even with that there are no guarantees.

I’ve thought about that. It seems like something of a last resort.

It is. The last resort save one.

Yes.

The wicked flee when none pursue. It’s Bobby, right?

Yes.

What is it that you’ve done?

I wish I knew. Do you get a lot of clients who are fearful for their lives?

Some.

What sorts of clients.