“Call me Nate.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what the heck happened, Nate. I used to see Amelia a couple of times a week, but after the Luke Field crackup, I never spoke with her again. She came back from Honolulu on the
“Sorry. I took a trip on the
“Not so small when you’re going around it in an airplane. Anyway, we went down to meet the ship, Karl and I, wanting to be waiting there to let Amelia know that her bad luck, cracking up the Electra and all, hadn’t dimmed our faith in her. That we were game for a second try, if she was…. Boy, were we in for a surprise.”
He seemed to want me to ask: “How so?”
He leaned forward again and spoke in a near whisper: “She came down the gangplank surrounded by Navy personnel—officers and, what, Shore Patrol or MP’s? Anyway, it was a combination of brass and armed guards, and they whisked her right past us and into a Navy staff car.”
“Did she see you?”
He sat back, smirking disgustedly. “Oh, yes. She acknowledged me with this…pitiful smile…but didn’t say a darn word! And that was the start of it.”
“Of what?”
He was shaking his head, his expression gloomy. “Of the government completely taking over. Some Naval Intelligence officers, plainclothes guys, met with Karl and me at a restaurant. They said any messages from Amelia, that came in from the Beacon Hill station, would go through them, and then to the press. We weren’t to initiate contact with Amelia, either—just monitor her messages as they came in, which hardly any did. Some of what they released was false. They also swore us to secrecy.”
“Why are you telling me, then?”
A faint smile formed on the babyish lips, “Two reasons. First, Mantz says you’re okay. Second, Amelia’s missing. If we’d been allowed to maintain contact with her, if we hadn’t been shut out—who knows?”
“They didn’t shut you out entirely…”
“The only reason for that is they needed our technical expertise and equipment. We had better gear than the government. And they knew we’d be able to monitor Amelia’s signals anyway.”
“I’m sure they didn’t like that.”
“No. But we were doing it under their watchful eye.”
I glanced around the restaurant, which had only a scattering of patrons. “You think you’re under their watchful eye right now?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think I was followed here. We shut the Beacon Hill operation down a couple days ago…but I still listen at home.”
“You say that like you heard something.”
His face might have been young, but his eyes suddenly seemed old. “I still am…at night. The daytime frequency, 3105 kilocycles, I don’t pick anything up; too weak. But at night, on 6210 kilocycles, I’m still hearing her…she’s still out there.”
I leaned forward. “What are you hearing?”
“The prearranged signal—two long dashes, if they were on water, three if they were on land. She’s been sending the two long dashes. Ask Paul—he’s heard them.”
“Christ. And the Navy, the Coast Guard, they know?”
“Of course they do. I’ve heard a voice, too, weakly, through the static…SOS, SOS, KHAQQ, KHAQQ…”
“I know what SOS is…”
“KHAQQ—her call sign.”
“And she’s still there—on the water?”
He swallowed, and nodded.
Mantz popped in the restaurant, spotted us and strode over. “You boys getting along all right?”
“Fine,” I said. “You didn’t tell me you heard her signal.”
McMenamy, sipping his glass of Coke, watched Mantz reply.
“Hell, Nate, it could have been anybody. There’s a lot of sick hoaxing going on right now…. Look, this Myers kid, in Oakland, there’s no phone in his house, but I got the airport manager to send somebody over…and you’ll be glad to know I’ve got this high-level conference between you and Jackie Cooper all arranged, for three this afternoon.”
“I appreciate this, Paul,” I said, and I meant it.
“I’ll fly you over in the
“A while,” I said.
The Duck Air Service Cafe at Oakland’s Bay Farm Airport, its walls decorated with framed flying photographs and pennants commemorating air shows and competitions, had wooden booths along windows that looked out on the airfield and its hangars. The interior of the glorified shack was a dark-stained oak, except for a small gleaming counter with wrought-iron stools and leather seats. Pies and cakes and ice cream were served up from behind the counter by Mom, while Pop made the sandwiches in a small kitchen in back.
