Death of an Airman by Christopher St. John Sprigg Read Free Book Online Page A

rudder. Use the stick against the turn.”
    The Bishop succeeded in oozing in the general direction of the hangar, and accepted Miss Sackbut’s suggestion of a coffee. They drank it in the lounge. This was deserted except for a novice, a youth who was, it seemed, laboriously, and a little palely, preparing for his first cross-country flight as he bent over a table map in the corner.
    â€œHe is flying to Marsham, ten miles away,” explained Miss Sackbut.
    â€œWhy is he moving that piece of string round the map?” asked the Bishop curiously.
    â€œHe is finding at what point of the compass Marsham is in relation to here.”
    â€œReally! And then he merely has to fly by his compass on that course and he arrives there?”
    â€œNo,” said Miss Sackbut; “he must allow for deviation, according to a table placed on his compass.”
    â€œOh!” answered the Bishop.
    â€œHe has also to find out the wind strength and direction and work out a small vector triangle or use a little instrument which solves the problem automatically. The result will tell him the course he must steer.”
    Dr. Marriott pressed his brow. “How much more reasonable theology is! It sounds absurdly complicated. And does that bring him over Marsham aerodrome?”
    Sally shook her head. “No; because while he is up the wind will change and he will get hopelessly lost.”
    â€œDear me! However will he reach Marsham?”
    â€œThe chances are that he will not,” answered Miss Sackbut. “If he is unscrupulous, he will fly to the railway line as soon as he is out of sight and follow it to Marsham, forgetting all about his compass. However, he is young and probably scrupulous, so he will wander all over England and finally land in a ploughed field to ask the inhabitants where he is. In getting off the ploughed field again he will hit a tree, and some time later we will send out a crash tender to bring the ’plane in, if repairable, and himself, if conscious.”
    â€œReally!” said the Bishop. “I don’t think I shall like cross-country flying.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” answered the girl reassuringly. “You’ll be flying in a club machine, so I shall escort you. We take care never to damage a club machine. This bloke is flying in his own bus, so, of course, it’s all to the good if we get the job of repairing it.”
    The Bishop shook a playful forefinger. “Either you are very heartless, Miss Sackbut, or else you are a little given to exaggeration.”
    After sighing audibly and going out twice to look at the windsock, the youth left. Then Sally turned firmly to the Bishop. “I’m glad we are alone. I’ve wanted to talk to you seriously. I believe you have something on your mind. You were getting on quite nicely with your training until the last day or two, but now your mind doesn’t seem on the job.”
    Dr. Marriott felt a little defenceless before Sally’s very direct methods of approach. Even his episcopacy seemed no barrier against it.
    â€œThere is something on my mind,” admitted the Bishop at last. “Some very fishy things have turned up about Furnace’s death, and I’m reluctantly coming to the conclusion that I shall have to speak to the police about it. That’s not a thing I like doing.”
    â€œGood lord!” exclaimed Sally, genuinely shocked. “You, of all people! What on earth could you have heard? I am sure there is some mistake.”
    â€œI do not think so,” he answered quietly. “Lady Laura apparently had a letter from Furnace in which he told her he was going to put an end to things.”
    Sally flushed. “It’s abominable! Laura is always saying that sort of thing. I don’t believe it. Why didn’t she mention it at the inquest? It’s sheer publicity lust! I’m sure she wrote the letter herself.” Sally panted with fury.
    â€œI