Run, Spy, Run

British officialdom, as a result of Hawk's personal call, had conceded that their conviction of pilot error in the case of the World Airways crash had been bolstered by the bottle-littered condition of the pilot's apartment, discovered after an anonymous tip; that the pilot's fiancée, Miss Rita Jameson, had repeatedly insisted that pilot Anderson was moderate in habit, had spent the early part of the evening with her and retired chastely for the night; that they had discounted her story, believing it to be the natural loyalty of a woman in love; that Miss Jameson had persisted in attempts to re-open the investigation; that she had received a politely worded official letter asking her discreetly to refrain from further enquiry, as her actions were an embarrassment and a hindrance to the investigating authorities, who had indeed not closed the case; and that, after waiting for some time to be further questioned or informed, Miss Jameson had discussed this letter with the authorities and all parties concerned had then realized that the communication was a forgery, designed, apparently, to forestall further interference. However, new evidence had come to light as a result of the continued investigation, and authorities agreed that it would be impolitic to encourage Miss Jameson's interest. The new facts being so appalling in their implications and the spuriousness of the letter suggesting something so sinister, it was felt that every effort should be made to pursue the inquiry in absolute secrecy, and that Miss Jameson should be advised to leave matters in the hands of the experts. She was also to be left with the impression that, the letter notwithstanding, they had as yet had no reason to ascribe the crash to any cause other than that already suggested.

In other words, Rita had been given the brush-off and forced to turn elsewhere for help.

The individual accused of planting a bomb on board the Afro-American Airlines plane via his father's suitcase had insisted that his father had himself suggested that heavy insurance be taken out, and that he, the son, had had no access to his father's suitcase for days before the crash, had not even been aware of the flying schedule. All those questioned in connection with insurance claims had similar stories. In fact, the authorities had all but given up the possibility of murder-for-insurance, but had allowed the public to go on believing in it since no other official theories could be made available.

Into the AXE files had come the story of each of the disasters as they had occurred. To Hawk's inquiring mind they had suggested a pattern. Consultation with other federal intelligence agencies had determined that AXE, the trouble-shooting arm of the cooperating services, would spearhead an investigation based on the possibility of international sabotage.

As to local events, a brief report revealed no conclusive link between the explosions and the attacks on Carter and Rita Jameson, but strongly supported Nick's own belief that each incident formed part of the same picture. The cablegram certainly provided a tie between Rita, Nick, and Flight 16, if not conclusively between that flight and the three previous disasters. As for A. Brown of 432A East 86th Street, he was apparently an infrequent user of a sparsely furnished walk-up apartment at that address, checking in daily for mail and messages but seldom sleeping there. Agents had staked out the place but were doubtful that their quarry would show. A description had, however, been obtained from the landlady and fingerprints had been lifted from various surfaces in apartment 4G.

Investigation of all facets of the situation was still under way. Further information was expected — Nick read on to the end.

So far, what they had was four dubious plane disasters and four dead diplomats. But Senor Valdez and his steel hand just didn't quite fit into the pseudo-accidental pattern of insurance schemes and pilot errors, of greedy relatives and lethal suitcases and inexplicable baggage tags. Senor Valdez had blown himself up, not by choice and almost certainly with his steel hand. How had that been accomplished, and by whom? Where did such a bizarre circumstance fit into the pattern presented by the first three catastrophes?

Now, once again, Nick went through the wallet, address book and personal documents of Peter Cane. Age. Height. Weight. Birthplace. Parents. Siblings. Education. School record. Friends. Sports. Other interests. Travels. Credit cards. Bank plate. Social Security number. Health Insurance. Club memberships. And so on, and so on, over and over again, until the information was printed on his brain.

A faint rustling noise came from the hallway. He snapped erect in the chair, all senses alert. A corner of something white was edging under the door. Carter rose soundlessly, reached for Wilhelmina, and glided over to the wall near the door frame. As he flattened himself against the wall, a white strip edged into the room.