1974 - So What Happens to Me by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online Page B

money. I could look on it as a vacation. He said later he would talk to the staff manager and maybe there would be a vacancy. I was bored staying at home. I have my Army gratuity and I wanted to see Paradise City and I wanted very much to see Colonel Olson again. . .he’s a fine man. Mr. Jackson, but I don’t have to tell you that. . .so . . . here I am.”
    He nodded his turnip head several times and his little eyes half closed.
    “I’m afraid Colonel Olson is at fault. He had no business having you here: no business at all.”
    I didn’t say anything.
    “This is most irregular.” He frowned. “Perhaps you don’t realise it. Everyone who works for us is insured. Suppose you met with an accident on the runway? You could sue us out of sight and we wouldn’t be covered.”
    “Is that right?” I gave him my humble, blank face. “I’m sure Colonel Olson never thought of that nor did I.”
    He seemed to like my humble face better than my frank face for his tight little lips lifted into what I suppose he imagined to be a smile.
    “I can see that. Colonel Olson is a good pilot, but he is no businessman. What exactly are you doing on the runway?”
    “I’m working under O’Brien. I keep the bulldozers in operation. The crew don’t know about engines.”
    The smile went away.
    “But isn’t that O’Brien’s job?”
    “He’s taking care of the blasting. Colonel Olson thought it would save time for me to take care of the bulldozers. I understand the runway has to be gotten ready fast.”
    “I’m quite aware of the need to get the runway finished.”
    The steel in his voice warned me I was talking too much.
    “I’m sure, Mr. Jackson. I was just trying to explain.”
    “We must regularize this business. Please report to the staff office and they will sign you on as one of the crew. You will be paid the usual union rates and you will be insured.”
    “Thank you for the suggestion, but I won’t do that. You see, Mr. Jackson, I am on vacation. I’m not looking for that kind of work. I like messing around with engines but not for long. I was just helping the Colonel and enjoying myself.”
    This threw him. He stiffened and stared at me “You mean you don’t want to work for us?”
    “Not as a ganger. I’m a fully qualified aero-engineer.”
    His eyebrows crawled almost into his black hair.
    “A fully qualified aero-engineer?”
    “That’s correct. Before Vietnam, I was with Lockheed.”
    He began nibbling at his thumb nail again.
    “I see.” He paused, then went on, “Mrs. Essex is pleased with you Crane. Perhaps we could find a place here in your own line. Would that interest you?”
    I noted he had dropped the “mister.”
    I had a sudden idea he wouldn’t be wasting his busy time with me unless he had to. Mrs. Essex is pleased with you . That gave me the clue. This fat fink had been sent by her to do something for me in return for finding her horse. It was a guess, but I felt it was a good one.
    “That depends on the job and the pay.”
    He recrossed his legs. I saw by the sour expression on his face he hated me the way a snake hates a mongoose.
    “Could you service a Condor XJ 7?”
    “I’m a fully qualified aero-engineer,” I told him. “That means I can handle any kite, providing I have a good working crew.”
    “I see.”
    I had him fazed. I could tell that by the way he again recrossed his legs and again took a nibble at his thumbnail.
    “Well. . .”
    A long pause, then he got to his feet.
    “I must see what I can do. You would like to work for us?”
    “As I said: it would depend on the pay and the job.”
    He peered at me.
    “What did Lockheed pay you?”
    “Twenty, but that was four years ago.”
    He nodded. I was certain he would contact Lockheed and check, but that didn’t worry me. I was a white-headed boy with Lockheed four years ago. I knew they would root for me.
    “Oblige me by staying away from the runway,” he said as he moved to the door. “Please make yourself