In Plane Sight (12 page)

“You know,” Frank said, “it could be that Grissom's the one being blackmailed. Maybe he wasn't going to pass those papers to someone; maybe someone slipped the papers to him.”

“We can't follow him right now,” Joe said. “Whether he's the blackmailer or the victim, he'll be watching for us. We should keep an eye on him tonight, though. That's when the meeting is supposed to happen.”

“How will we find the meeting place?” Jamal asked.

“Don't worry,” Frank said, “I have a plan. Let's get back to the Cessna and prepare it for takeoff. We may need it tonight.”

As they crossed the tarmac toward the parked Hawkins plane, they saw Rita Davenport coming in the opposite direction. She was moving quickly and waved to them as she got closer. “Have you seen Mr. Manetti?” she asked.

“He's in the cafeteria,” Frank replied. “Is everything all right?”

She shook her head. “We might leave the show,” she said, “especially after last night. A lot of other people are thinking about going too. Elise's trying
to talk everyone into staying, but . . .” She shrugged. “There's just too much drama here. I have to run. See you later—maybe.” She headed toward the cafeteria.

When the teens reached the Cessna, they discovered there were a lot fewer planes around it than there had been the previous day. Elise Flaubert, who was talking with Clevon Brooks nearby, broke off her conversation and came over to the three boys.

“You're not leaving too, are you?” she asked forlornly.

“No,” Jamal said. “Not yet anyway.”

“Good,” she said, leaning back against the plane. “We've had such bad luck with Sullivan custom owners through this show!”

“You mean besides Jamal and Brooks?” Frank said.

“Yes,” Flaubert replied, “most of the Sullivan Brothers customized planes have been damaged during the show. Two were stolen, as you know, and nearly all the rest were vandalized when Amy Chow's plane crashed.”

Joe ran his hand through his hair. “A convenient crash for burglars,” he said quietly.

Flaubert glanced at him and continued. “Most of the other Sullivan owners have left. There are two of these planes remaining on the airport's consignment sales block, but one was slightly damaged during Amy's crash. I doubt anyone will buy it
now.” She sighed. “One more thing for my insurance to handle! The other is a newer model, and not as popular. I don't think it will sell either. So, because the airport is handling sales, those two will be staying. Of active owners, only you, Brooks, and Grissom are left.”

“Brooks and I have an interest in the ongoing investigation,” Jamal said.

“That's true, of course,” Flaubert said. “A lot of people who don't own Sullivans are talking about leaving too. Even Mr. Manetti is thinking of packing it in, and he's one of the people who convinced me to take on this show!”

“What kind of vandalization was there on the other Sullivan planes?” Frank asked, rubbing his chin. “How many did you say there were?”

“There were five others, including the two up for sale,” Flaubert said. “The vandals made a terrible mess of three of them, tearing up their upholstery and paneling. Only the two for sale weren't broken into, and one of those was damaged by flying debris—the older, more valuable one, of course.” She sighed again. “I was so proud to have more than a quarter of that year's Sullivan production run at the show!”

“Was anything stolen from the vandalized planes?” Frank asked.

“We're not sure yet,” she replied.

“Hold on,” Joe said. “You're saying that
all
the
damaged or stolen planes were from the same model year?”

“Yes,” Flaubert replied. “That was a banner year for Sullivan Brothers Air Customizing. It was quite a coup to get all those planes here at the same time. I had to work really hard at convincing everyone to come. Now, of course, it's a disaster! Anyone coming to see the set will be completely disappointed.

“I'm glad Amy left her Sullivan plane at home; they're becoming extremely rare! Not that she didn't suffer enough of a loss when her plane crashed. I'm
so
glad she wasn't badly hurt,” she continued. “Shoot, look at the time! I have to run, find Mitchum, and pigeonhole a few other people. But I'm
so
glad that you're not leaving. Please stay until the end of the show tomorrow.”

“We will,” Jamal said.

“Assuming nothing comes up,” Frank added.

Flaubert sighed again. “I certainly hope nothing does! They say any publicity is good publicity, but, for airports at least, they couldn't be more wrong. See you later.” She jogged off across the tarmac toward Amy, who was admiring a lime green stunt plane.

“So,” Joe said, “maybe Amy's fortunes have
increased
since the crash—because her Sullivan custom is now worth more.”

“Crashing a stunt plane seems like a big risk just
to increase the value of your airplane collection,” Frank said.

“But she wasn't badly hurt in the crash,” Jamal reminded them. “She could have set the whole thing up, either to increase her other plane's worth or as some kind of insurance scheme.”

“She's not taking the loss of the
Screamin' Demon
very badly,” Joe said. “That's for sure. However, if someone were pulling an insurance scam, I'd have to put my money on Brooks. We know he needs money.”

Frank nodded. “Having his plane stolen might be a good way to make some easy money. But what's connecting all this to Grissom? He's either blackmailing someone or being blackmailed himself. My guess is the first, but—”

“Whoever's doing this isn't in it alone either,” Joe said. “We know there were two people who hijacked Brooks's plane. We also know there were two people at the control tower last night, the one who ran from us and the one who attacked Ms. Davenport. What puzzles me is how the thieves beat us back here after shooting at us in the woods.”

“Well,” Frank said, “they knew where they were going, and we didn't. They still made good time, though. There could be another explanation.”

“So you're pretty sure, there are more than two guys involved in this?” Jamal asked.

Frank nodded. “I'm thinking maybe it's a whole gang of people.”

“The Denny gang!” Joe said. “If they're behind this, that would explain one of the articles in Grissom's pocket.”

“The real question is,” Frank said, “what are they after? They've broken into the administrative office, but they didn't take anything. Why were they using the control tower computer? They've stolen two planes but still came back to the airport a third time. Are they aiding someone with an insurance scam, or is it something else?” He shook his head. “I still don't really get it.”

Joe shook his head. “Just once I'd like to run into a nice, simple case,” he said.

“It would help if we knew what Denny and his gang looked like,” Frank said. “We have to assume they've disgused themselves for this caper.”

“We know Denny's done that before,” Joe remarked. “Let's call Phil Cohen. He can search the Internet back in Bayport and fax us a picture or anything else he finds.” Phil was a good friend of theirs, also a pro with computers.

“Good idea,” Jamal said. “There's bound to be a fax in the airport office. I'll find Ms. Davenport again and ask if we can use it.”

“I'll get in touch with Phil and tell him what we need,” Joe said.

Frank nodded. “I'll make arrangements for following Grissom tonight and see if I can get our cell phone working again.”

By the time they finished their errands and Frank repaired his cell phone, night had fallen on the air show once more. There were no further incidents during the day, and security seemed to be relaxing a bit. Mitchum could be seen poking around the airfield once more, keeping a droopy eye on things. Jose and the other field workers kept their eyes peeled as well. Despite this, many airplane owners, like Grissom, stayed close to their planes.

Tomorrow was the final day of the show, and most of the aviators were gathering for a dinner and dance in the same hangar where the opening banquet had been held. Jamal and the Hardys avoided the celebration and kept a close watch on Grissom. They made sure to stay out of clear sight.

In addition to securing the use of the airport fax, Jamal had gained clearance for a flight that evening in case they needed the plane to follow anyone Frank had rented an all-terrain Jeep as well, for any necessary ground work. They'd put the expenses on the Hawkins Air credit card.

“The cost will be worth it if we can catch these crooks and get my plane back,” Jamal said.

Once the banquet was in full swing, Grissom slipped quietly into his Sullivan plane and taxied
onto the runway. Jamal surreptitiously got clearance from the tower to take off right after Grissom. He and Joe planned to fly, while Frank would follow along as best he could in the Jeep. It was a tricky plan, but they couldn't be sure that Grissom might not switch to ground transportation at some point during the chase.

Grissom headed north, with the Hawkins plane following in his blind spot. Joe used Jamal's cell phone to relay information to Frank on the ground. Frank had studied maps of the area beforehand, but he still had the tricky job of tailing the planes in a Jeep.

“It looks like he's headed toward Kendall State Park,” Joe said after they'd been in the air ten minutes.

“That's an awfully big area,” Frank replied. “Can you give me a more specific idea of where he's going?”

“Hang on . . .” Joe said. “It looks like he's getting ready to land.”

“Out here?” Jamal asked. “Where?”

Joe snapped his fingers. “Frank, remember that old farm airstrip we saw while we were searching for Jamal's plane the other day?”

“The one with the broken down barn and the rusty fuel tank near the runway?” Frank asked.

“That's the one,” Joe said. “I think Grissom is landing there.”

“That makes sense,” Frank said. “It's close enough
to Scott Field that someone in a car could meet Grissom, but remote enough to be private. Keep on him. I'll meet you there.”

Joe and Jamal watched as Grissom circled the deserted airstrip once before setting his Sullivan custom down. He taxied to the end of the small runway and stopped.

“Grissom's getting out of his plane,” Joe said.

“I'm just a few minutes away,” Frank called back.

Grissom walked down the runway toward the dilapidated farm house. As he passed the old fuel tank, a bright flash lit the night. The tank exploded into a huge fireball.

14 “Flight” for Life

“Frank!” Joe called. “The fuel tank just exploded!”

“Can you see Grissom?” Frank asked. “Is he okay?”

“I can't tell,” Joe said. “Take us lower, Jamal.”

Joe peered into the gloom and saw a dark form, the size and shape of a man, lying near the side of the airstrip. As he watched, two more dark shapes came out of the dilapidated farmhouse and moved cautiously across the grass toward the prone figure. “Grissom's down, Frank. Two guys are coming for him. Step on it!”

“I'm driving as fast as I can.”

“Can you land us, Jamal?” Joe asked. “Maybe we can get there quicker than Frank.”

“I can't,” Jamal replied. “Grissom's plane is blocking the runway.”

“Can't you come at the strip from the opposite direction?”

Jamal shook his head. “If I did, there's a good chance Frank would be scraping
us
off that runway instead of Grissom.”

Joe looked out the window. “Hurry, Frank! Hurry!” he whispered.

Frank pushed the gas pedal to the floor and tore down the old gravel driveway in front of the farmhouse. Small fires in the tall grass lit the airstrip behind the house. Frank saw two masked people approaching what looked like the body of Rock Grissom.