Read Online The Death of Lorenzo Jones by Brad Latham - Free Book Online
Authors: Brad Latham
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said. “I’ll have to come out and sew it.” She frowned. “Let me down. I get
the picture, you can hold me up all day long.”
“My pleasure.”
What a nice tight body she had, and a surprisingly small waist under those coveralls. Her breasts had brushed against him
also, but she wasn’t in the least embarrassed. He let her down.
“Now this Lorenzo, I only knew him slightly, but he was a hell of a nice hick,” she said. “He knew a lot about piloting, and
I can’t see how he crashed on such a nice day, with all the maintenance he did on his craft.”
“That’s what I want to find out.”
“You’ve seen it? The wreck? I sneaked a peek. It must have nosed down. A wing would practically have to break off to have
that happen. I know. I fly basically the same craft. Except his was supercharged.”
“What do
you
think happened?”
“Whatever did happen, Lorenzo turned the wrong way on takeoff.”
“Could
that
have made him crash?” Lockwood was at last getting somewhere, he thought.
“Heavens, no. It doesn’t matter except that we always turn right to avoid that sign. We like to give it lots of room. But
he cleared the sign easily from what I heard. I wasn’t watching.”
“Who was?”
“Stinky, a kid who hangs out here, and Jones’ wife—and his boss, a Mr…. something, Glade.”
“Wade.”
“Yes.”
“What’s Mrs. Jones like? I know Wade.”
“Cold, sorta. She and Lorenzo weren’t in the same class. He was a hick. A smart one, but a hick. She has family, way back
to the
Mayflower
. How the twain met, I can’t imagine.”
“Now
you
sound like a cop.” Hook changed the subject. “Did Lorenzo Jones drink coffee?”
“What a weird question! Sure. It pays to stay alert in the air.”
“Did he carry a thermos in the plane?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you carry a thermos when flying?”
“Sure, if I’m going for more than a spin. Why?”
“How far was Lorenzo going the day he crashed?”
“About 200 miles.”
“Then he would have taken coffee with him.”
“If he remembered.” She was irritated by his questions. “Why?”
“I didn’t find a thermos in the wreckage.”
“Either he forgot it, or it’s out there in the grass. Why do you care?”
“It’s missing. Missing things bother me.”
They walked back toward the hangars, passing her biplane. She seemed to have an inspiration. “Say, you lifted me up. Now I
can return the favor. You can’t easily get an overview of where Jones crashed. From the air, it’s easy to spot. How about
going for a spin with a lady?”
Lockwood eyed the double-winged beast straining at its tethers. He wasn’t happy about the suggestion. Still, it
was
part of his job to see all he could.
“How long have you been flying?” he asked.
“I would have crashed by now, Mr. Lockwood, if I was going to. Come on. Are you chicken?”
“No, I just haven’t checked out my insurance policy lately. I don’t know if it includes flying with a woman pilot. Should
it?” He smiled.
She frowned. “Women make better pilots than men.”
“Like they make better drivers?”
“Come on, scaredy-pants.”
A challenge. Lockwood saw that he would look as yellow as a lemon if he declined. He never trusted women drivers. But this
was no ordinary frail woman. And there was a reason to do it, to get a look from the air at the crash site.
“Anything a dame can do, I can. How do I get in?”
“That’s the old moxie.”
CHAPTER
9
Am I really doing this? Lockwood asked himself as he climbed into the back of the craft behind Amanda. It looked like a seat
on the roller coaster at Coney Island, even with a strap to hold you in. The strap looked strong. He put on the pair of goggles
she gave him and rolled up his jacket collar.
It didn’t seem they were going very fast when the plane suddenly lifted off the bumpy gravel and headed steeply upward to
the right.
Lockwood saw the Old Gold sign that she had spoken
the picture, you can hold me up all day long.”
“My pleasure.”
What a nice tight body she had, and a surprisingly small waist under those coveralls. Her breasts had brushed against him
also, but she wasn’t in the least embarrassed. He let her down.
“Now this Lorenzo, I only knew him slightly, but he was a hell of a nice hick,” she said. “He knew a lot about piloting, and
I can’t see how he crashed on such a nice day, with all the maintenance he did on his craft.”
“That’s what I want to find out.”
“You’ve seen it? The wreck? I sneaked a peek. It must have nosed down. A wing would practically have to break off to have
that happen. I know. I fly basically the same craft. Except his was supercharged.”
“What do
you
think happened?”
“Whatever did happen, Lorenzo turned the wrong way on takeoff.”
“Could
that
have made him crash?” Lockwood was at last getting somewhere, he thought.
“Heavens, no. It doesn’t matter except that we always turn right to avoid that sign. We like to give it lots of room. But
he cleared the sign easily from what I heard. I wasn’t watching.”
“Who was?”
“Stinky, a kid who hangs out here, and Jones’ wife—and his boss, a Mr…. something, Glade.”
“Wade.”
“Yes.”
“What’s Mrs. Jones like? I know Wade.”
“Cold, sorta. She and Lorenzo weren’t in the same class. He was a hick. A smart one, but a hick. She has family, way back
to the
Mayflower
. How the twain met, I can’t imagine.”
“Now
you
sound like a cop.” Hook changed the subject. “Did Lorenzo Jones drink coffee?”
“What a weird question! Sure. It pays to stay alert in the air.”
“Did he carry a thermos in the plane?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you carry a thermos when flying?”
“Sure, if I’m going for more than a spin. Why?”
“How far was Lorenzo going the day he crashed?”
“About 200 miles.”
“Then he would have taken coffee with him.”
“If he remembered.” She was irritated by his questions. “Why?”
“I didn’t find a thermos in the wreckage.”
“Either he forgot it, or it’s out there in the grass. Why do you care?”
“It’s missing. Missing things bother me.”
They walked back toward the hangars, passing her biplane. She seemed to have an inspiration. “Say, you lifted me up. Now I
can return the favor. You can’t easily get an overview of where Jones crashed. From the air, it’s easy to spot. How about
going for a spin with a lady?”
Lockwood eyed the double-winged beast straining at its tethers. He wasn’t happy about the suggestion. Still, it
was
part of his job to see all he could.
“How long have you been flying?” he asked.
“I would have crashed by now, Mr. Lockwood, if I was going to. Come on. Are you chicken?”
“No, I just haven’t checked out my insurance policy lately. I don’t know if it includes flying with a woman pilot. Should
it?” He smiled.
She frowned. “Women make better pilots than men.”
“Like they make better drivers?”
“Come on, scaredy-pants.”
A challenge. Lockwood saw that he would look as yellow as a lemon if he declined. He never trusted women drivers. But this
was no ordinary frail woman. And there was a reason to do it, to get a look from the air at the crash site.
“Anything a dame can do, I can. How do I get in?”
“That’s the old moxie.”
CHAPTER
9
Am I really doing this? Lockwood asked himself as he climbed into the back of the craft behind Amanda. It looked like a seat
on the roller coaster at Coney Island, even with a strap to hold you in. The strap looked strong. He put on the pair of goggles
she gave him and rolled up his jacket collar.
It didn’t seem they were going very fast when the plane suddenly lifted off the bumpy gravel and headed steeply upward to
the right.
Lockwood saw the Old Gold sign that she had spoken
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