Netta regarded him, suddenly serious. She nodded. “Will you trust
me to get you there safely?” he asked.
“I’d trust you in an aircraft, but nowhere else,” she returned.
Bix roared with laughter. “Say, this baby is quite a kidder, Steve.
That’s a pretty hot line to hand to a guy like me. Lady, I was kidding
just now. Dames don’t mean a thing to me. You ask Steve; he’ll tell
you.”
“That’s right,” I said. “Dames don’t mean a thing to Min, but put
him alone with one dame and see what happens.”
“Why, you rat . . .” Bix began, indignant.
“And suppose he isn’t to be trusted?” Netta asked. “I wouldn’t
scream for help.”
“You wouldn’t?” Bix asked, his eyes popping. “Is that on the
level?” He looked at me. “Beat it, three’s-a-crowd, you’re in the way.”
“Suppose we cut out this cross-talk and get down to business?” I
urged. “Now you’ve seen her, will you play?”
Bix sipped his whisky, eyed Netta, eyed me.
“Yeah, I guess I can’t refuse a honey like her,” he said. “But it’s a
hell of a risk.”
“Skip it,” I said. “You know it’s dead easy. Don’t listen to him,
Netta, he’s trying to be important.”
“Seriously, is it risky?” Netta asked; her eyes searching Bix’s face.
For a moment Bix wrestled with the temptation to exaggerate,
decided against it. “Well, no,” he admitted, scowling at me. “Once you
sell the pilot the idea-and you’ve already done that- it’s easy enough.
We’l meet at the gates of the airport, go in together, have a drink at
the mess. I’ll then offer to show you over my kite and we’ll go down to
the dispersal point. No one will be around if we get down there
before twenty-two-fifteen hours. You two will get into the kite, and I’ll
show you where to hide. We take off at twenty-two-thirty hours.
When we get to the other side, there’l be a car waiting for me. All you
have to do is to get in the back. I’ll dump my kit and some rugs on top
of you and off we go. Once we’re clear of the airport, you can come
up for air, and I’ll drop you off wherever you want to be dropped off.”
Netta thought for a moment. “It’s really as simple as that?”
“That’s right. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. But I warn
you, I claim a kiss from my passengers.”
“You won’t kiss me,” I said coldly. “I’d rather swim the Atlantic if
those are your terms.”
“So would I,” Bix said hurriedly. “I wasn’t talking to you, lug.”
Netta smiled at him. “There won’t be any difficulty about that,”
she said. “I think the terms are most reasonable.”
We kidded back and forth for twenty minutes or so, sank a
number of whiskies, and then, at eight-ten, Bix said he guessed he’d
better be getting along.
“See you two outside the airport at twenty-one-forty-five,” he
said. “And don’t get steamed up. It’s in the bag.” He took Netta’s
hand. “See you soon,” he went on. “Don’t forget if you ever grow
tired of that lug, I’m next on the list. Red-heads go straight to my
heart.”
“I’ll remember,” she said, gave him a long stare which seemed to
weaken him, then she smiled. “If I see much more of you,” she
continued, “I think I’ll be changing my mind about my lug, although he
is a nice lug if you overlook his table manners.”
“He can’t help that,” Bix said, grinning. “He hasn’t been house-
broken like me.”
He took himself off as if he was walking on air.
The moment the door swung behind him, Netta lost her gaiety,
looked anxiously at me.
“Are you sure it’s all right?” she asked. “He’s such a boy. Are you
sure you can trust him to get us across safely?”
“Quit fussing,” I said. “That guy’s done over a hundred operational
trips. He’s bombed Germany from hell to breakfast and back again.
Maybe he does look like a boy, but don’t let that fool you. When he
says he’l do something, he does it. He’s taken a liking to you, and that
means we’re as good as there.”
She heaved a little sigh, took my arm.
“All right, darling,” she said. “I won’t fuss, but I’m nervous. What
do we do now?”
“We go back `to the flat, pick up your things and get over to the
airport. Come on, Netta, the journey’s begun.”
Ten minutes later we were back in Madge Kennitt’s flat.
“You’re travelling light, I hope?” I asked, as I tossed my hat on the
chaise-longue.
She nodded. “Just a grip. I hate leaving all my lovely dresses, but
I’ll be able to buy what I want on the other side.” She came over to
me, put her arms around my neck. “You’ve been wonderful to me,
Steve. I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I’d’ve done
without you.”
For a moment I felt like a heel, then I remembered the way
Littlejohns had looked, curled up on the floor, and that stiffened me.
“Forget it,” I said. “You ready now?”
She said what I hoped she would say: what I knew the success or
failure of my plan depended on.
“Give me five minutes, Steve,” she said. “I want to change. This
get-up isn’t warm enough for an air trip.”
“Go ahead. Get into your woollies,” I said. “I’m damned if I don’t
come in and help you.”
She laughed uneasily, went to the bedroom door.
“You keep out, Mr. Harmas,” she said with mock severity.
“It’s a long time since you saw me undress, and I’d be shy.”
“You’re right,” I said, suddenly serious. “It is a long time: too long,
Netta.”
But she wasn’t listening. She went into the bedroom, shut the
door. I listened, heard the key turn.
I sat on the chaise-longue, lit a cigarette. The palms of my hands
were damp, the muscles in my thighs twitched. I was in a regular fever
of excitement.
Five minutes crawled by, then another five. I could hear Netta
