Chapter 6
Newkirk, having finished his meal and pot of tea, turned on the television and then collapsed onto the sofa not really paying attention to what was on; but waiting for Carter and LeBeau to return which he hoped would be soon. He recalled having phoned Clarissa and speaking to her informing her he wouldn't be coming home right now and the possibility that Hogan had been murdered and his death made to look like an accident. She understood her husband's need to uncover the truth and find who was responsible. She also made him promise to be careful and to come home when he was able. He then spoke to each of his children promising to be home as soon as he could before hanging up. Newkirk missed his wife and children very much, and very glad she gave him the time he needed. She also knew her husband would never forgive himself if he didn't stay to uncover the truth considering how badly he took the news of Hogan's death.
Suddenly hearing the doorknob being jiggled, Newkirk was brought out of his reverie and immediately got to his feet. Grabbing his gun from the back of his waistband, he stood next to the door. "Who is it?" he asked cautiously.
"It is us, Pierre. Louis and Andre," said the muffled voice on the opposite side of the door.
Grinning, Newkirk unchained the door and opened it to admit his two friends; LeBeau was holding a manila envelope in one arm. His eyes widened when he noticed the pistol in Newkirk's hand as the Englander closed the door and put the chain back on.
"Why the weapon? Did something happen?" LeBeau was deeply concerned.
Newkirk quickly told them about being followed after he had left General Butler's house.
"You okay, buddy?" asked a worried Carter looking at his best friend.
Newkirk sighed and nodded. "I'm okay, Andrew. I was able to lose the bloody stalker and then headed straight back here."
"Mon Dieu!" LeBeau cried. "Vous avez de la chance le batard ne vous a pas confronte!"(1)
Newkirk snickered as he sat his weapon on the night table. "I have no bloody idea what the hell you just said, LeBeau, but I couldn't agree more."
"You think it has something to do with the Colonel's death?" asked Carter as he and LeBeau sat down on the sofa; Newkirk switched off the television. He poured half a glass of Scotch for both men and handed one to each of them before sitting down in a chair close by.
"Not ruddy sure, Carter," he replied. "But I got a funny feeling it just might. And you know what that means?"
Carter looked at the dark liquid in his glass for a long moment before eyeing the Englander, puzzled. "What?" he asked.
LeBeau rolled his eyes in exasperation as he turned to the young man. "It means that the Colonel's death may not have been an accident like everybody thinks." He took a sip of his drink.
Carter swirled the liquid in his glass as he mulled over what LeBeau just said. He took a sip and let the liquor burn his throat on the way down. A frown suddenly appeared on his face as a frightening thought occurred to him.
"You all right, mate?" asked Newkirk with a worried look at the former Sergeant.
"I just had a scary thought," Carter informed the others.
LeBeau grinned, amused as he took another sip and exchanged looks with the Englander. "Now I know we're in trouble," he said jokingly.
Newkirk chuckled. "What's your scary thought, Carter?" he asked.
Carter shifted on the sofa so he could face the others at a three-quarter angle. "Well, and hear me out first before you say anything. And promise me you won't laugh."
"We promise we won't laugh. Right LeBeau?" asked Newkirk with an arched eyebrow.
"Oui, I promise."
"Well, it just occurred to me that if someone killed Colonel Hogan, couldn't it be possible the same person might be after us knowing if we suspected Colonel Hogan was killed deliberately, we would investigate and wanted us all together?"
Newkirk and LeBeau stared at each other, worriedly. The thought had never occurred to them and what Carter had said gave them something to think about.
"Sacre Chat," LeBeau murmured partially under his breath. "I never thought of that possibility. Could it be possible?"
Newkirk pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thanks a ruddy lot, Andrew, for giving us something else to worry about."
"I'm sorry," Carter apologized looking into his glass. "I mean, I just thought it might be something to bring up is all."
"Pierre, that could be why that person was following you from General Butler's house. He might have been wanting to get you alone so he could kill you. And what about General Butler? If somebody was watching him, that means he might be in danger as well. We should warn him at least." The Frenchman saw Newkirk studying him. "Andre brought up something we must at least consider."
"I know you're right, Louie. I'll give the General a call and let him know to be careful and watch out if anybody's following him. Blimey, if I get me hands on the blighter that was followin' me and find out he had something to do with what happened to the Gov'nor, he's gonna be one sorry bastard." Newkirk then looked at his two friends. "I meant to ask both of you if you've seen anybody followin' you around?"
Carter and LeBeau exchanged looks before turning back to Newkirk. "We did not notice anyone, mon ami. But then, we were not looking for anyone. Sorry."
Newkirk nodded his head with a faraway look in his eyes. "Well, from this moment on, I suggest we all keep a sharp look-out then for somebody following us. And although he's retired, General Butler might be in danger as well." He saw the others nod their agreement. His eyes then turned to the envelope tucked under LeBeau's arm. "What's in the envelope, mate?"
Having forgotten the envelope, LeBeau placed his glass on the table and proceeded to open the envelope. "Andre and I couldn't find many newspaper accounts of the crash, but we checked everything we could and made copies." He started to remove them from the envelope but was stopped by the Englander. (2)
"Don't show them to me now. Wait until Kinch gets here later. That way you won't have to show them again." He rubbed the back of his neck. "There is something else I think we can do."
"What's that?" asked Carter.
"I still have some contacts in MI6. I could call one of them and have them search for Burkhalter and Hochstetter. Last we heard they were in Argentina. At least we can eliminate them as suspects. What do you think?"
LeBeau glanced at Carter and then back at Newkirk. "I think you should do it, mon ami. My francs are still on Hochstetter. He despised the Colonel for years and I wouldn't put it past him to want revenge even after all this time."
"And after you have done that, I will telephone my beautiful Marya and have her check around in Russia to see who may want revenge on the Colonel while he was involved in the Cold War."
Newkirk froze hearing the Russian woman's name. He rolled his eyes. "LeBeau, forget Marya. Besides, the Colonel's part in the Cold War ended in 1949 after he took part in the ruddy Berlin Airlift. He was prohibited from flying anymore after that seeing as he was promoted to Lieutenant General not too long after that. Besides, what could she possibly know about who the Gov'nor might have ticked off between 1948 and 1949 which was when the Gov'nor was involved."
LeBeau smiled. "My beautiful angel knows everything, Pierre. She is still involved in the spy business for her country and has contacts. She can check in Russia for us."
"Pardonnez-moi," Newkirk said sarcastically. "And just how would you know that?"
The little Frenchman smirked. "Because she told me when we accidentally met in France three years ago. She is still as beautiful as ever."
"Bloody hell, Louie!" Newkirk hissed. "We don't need that woman involved in this. She caused trouble every time she showed up at Stalag 13 and you know it. Why would you want her involved in our investigation?"
"She can't come to the US, mon ami. It is too dangerous with the Cold War still going on. But she could at least check with her contacts to see what, as the Americans would say, feathers the Colonel ruffled during the Berlin Airlift."
"It couldn't hurt, Newkirk," Carter chipped in looking at his friend. "I mean, there's no way we're gonna be able to get to Russia to check things out. Marya could do it for us. If she is willing to help just with that, then I think we should let her."
Newkirk, shaking his head, gazed at the still smirking Frenchman who had the look of victory on his face since Carter backed his suggestion. "Do you know how to contact her?" Newkirk asked.
"But of course," LeBeau snickered reaching into his inside jacket pocket and removing a folded slip of paper. "I have her telephone number in Russia. She said if I ever needed to…"
Newkirk held up a hand stopping him. "Please, spare me. I should have known you'd have her phone number, mate. Just make sure she understands all we need is for her to check between 1948 and 1949 as that was when the Gov'nor was involved."
After Kinch, removing one of the empty carbon dioxide canisters, had one of the guards assigned to guard the entrance to the storage room with the understanding that nobody was to enter that room under any circumstances until further notice. Then, Kinch approached one of the maintenance crew whom he recognized as one of the private contractors. It was the man who, unknown to Kinch, had been watching him. "Excuse me," Kinch said pleasantly. "Perhaps I can ask you if you were one of the maintenance crew who checked out General Hogan's transport the day it took off."
"Yes, sir," the man replied. "My name's Darwin. Oscar Darwin; I'm a private contractor. And yes I was. But that was nearly two years ago. Why this sudden interest now?" His eyes glanced at the canister in the Captain's hands.
Kinch shrugged, keeping his face unreadable. "Just reviewing some files for completeness. Can you tell me how the General's plane checked out when you and other members of the maintenance crew checked it out?"
Darwin scratched his head. "Well, Captain, best as I can remember, the General's plane checked out perfectly. What I mean is that there was nothing wrong. All systems were working as they should."
"And the pilots did a pre-flight check?"
"That I don't know, sir. I assume so." He motioned to the canister in Kinch's hands. "Is that a CO2 canister, sir?"
"Yeah, it is. And it along with the others in the cargo hold were empty. And idea why that would be?"
Darwin shrugged. "The CO2 canisters are only used if there's a fire, and then there would be a warning light on the instrument panel. The pilot would then pull the T-handle and release the CO2 into the affected areas and then lower the aircraft into a descent to a lower attitude where he could depressurize the aircraft. Plus, the pilot would have to open the cabin pressure relief valves prior to even releasing the CO2."
"And if he didn't?" Kinch asked already knowing the answer.
Darwin shrugged his shoulders. " If that happened it wouldn't take long before the pilots would pass out from a build up of carbon dioxide in the cabin and cockpit."
"So what you're telling me is that the only reason these canisters in the forward cargo pit under the floor would be used would be in the case of a fire in the immediate area."
"Yes, sir."
Darwin shrugged again. "Well, sir, if the canisters were all empty as you said, then there must have been a fire in the cargo hold."
Kinch sighed wearily knowing that what Darwin had told him was exactly what he already knew; but something was still bugging him. And that was if there was a fire in the forward cargo pit, why wasn't there any mention of a fire on board prior to the crash in the accident report. Kinch figured his next stop would have to be to speak with the military air traffic controllers from that day to find out if one of the pilots reported a fire had broken out. Afterall, they were the last ones to have verbal contact with Hogan's plane before it went down.
"Thank you for your assistance," Kinch told Darwin before turning away and heading in the direction of his parked car, his driver waiting behind the wheel.
Darwin, standing in the doorway of the hanger, watched Kinch climb into the back seat of his car. This did not sit well with him at all. The Captain was asking too many questions, and his suspicions seemed to be coming true. There was a new investigation into the death of General Robert Hogan. And what was worse was that the Captain had taken one of the CO2 canisters with him. That could only lead to trouble. He had made the mistake of thinking the canisters had been destroyed in the crash and subsequent fire, but apparently they had somehow survived the crash. He began to suspect that the Captain was probably going to speak with someone on duty that day with air traffic control to see if there was any report of a fire on board the transport which would account for the canisters of CO2 being empty.
"Damn you," Darwin mumbled under his breath as he watched Kinch's car drive away. "Why couldn't you just leave things alone as they were." His eyes narrowed and his eyebrows knitted together.
"Why couldn't who leave what alone?" a voice asked. Darwin looked over his shoulder and saw one of his co-workers staring at him, puzzled.
"I was just thinking out loud," Darwin replied with a faint smile. "I always get nervous when officers are poking around."
"I know what you mean," the other man said with a laugh. "But Captain Kinchloe seems like a nice guy. What did he want?"
Darwin shrugged. "Not really sure. But I think it had something to do with that crash that killed that General. Hogan, I think his name was."
"Oh yeah. I remember that crash. Terrible thing. Guess he still can't accept the fact that it was an accident. From what I understood he knew the General a long time and they were pretty close. Must be hard for him."
"Yeah," said Darwin, not really interested in the other man's babbling. "Listen, can you cover for me for a few hours? I have something important I just remembered I have to do and it can't wait."
"You're not in trouble are you?"
Darwin chuckled. "No. But I wouldn't ask if it wasn't really important."
"Sure. Go ahead. Since the boss isn't around today and I'm acting in his stead, and things are kind of slow, I can spare you."
"Thanks." Darwin replied hurrying back inside the hanger to grab his jacket. He had to let his boss know what was happening and find out what was to be done to stop everything from unraveling.
"Bruno will not be pleased," he murmured when he was out of hearing range as he hurried in the direction of his own car. "And neither will Dietrich."
(1) "Vous avez de la chance le batard ne vous a pas confronte!" means "You are fortunate the bastard didn't confront you!" Courtesy of SDL/Free Translation.
(2)The first widely used copy machine for offices was invented by James Watt in 1779.
Chester Carlson was an inventor of photocopying who was originally a patent attorney and part-time researcher and inventor, and was required by his job at the patent office in NY to make a large number of copies of important documents. Being arthritic, this was not only painful but time consuming. This motivated him to conduct experiments with photoconductivity. In 1938 he applied for a patent for the process, but was turned down by over 20 companies between 1939 and 1944 including IBM and General Electric both of which did not believe there was a market for copiers.
It was in 1944 that the Battelle Memorial Institute, a non-profit organization, contracted with Carlson to refine his process. Over the next five years the institute conducted experiments to improve the process of electrophotography. In 1947, a small New York-based manufacturer and seller of photographic paper called the Haloid Corporation, approached Battelle to obtain a license to develop and market a copying machine based on this technology. And in 1948, the word 'Xerox' was trademarked. Haloid eventually changed their name to Xerox Corporation. Information courtesy of Wikipedia.
