cc.vixen03-第7部分

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ver；　I'm　afraid　there　isn't　too　much　to　go　on。〃
　〃So　it　ends　here；〃　Pitt　said。
　〃You　throw　in　the　towel　too　early；〃　said　Dolan。　〃There　is　a　perfectly　legible　serial　number　on　the　strut。　If　we　can　determine　the　type　of　ship　this　particular　nose…gear　model　was　designed　for；　then　it　bees　a　simple　matter　of　tracing　the　strut's　number　through　the　manufacturer　and　establishing　the　parent　aircraft。〃
　〃You　make　it　sound　easy。〃　i
　〃Any　other　fragments？〃
　〃Only　what　you　see。〃
　〃How　did　you　e　to　bring　them　here？〃
　〃I　figured　that　if　anybody　could　identify　them；　it　would。be　the　Federal　Aviation　Administration。〃
　〃Putting　us　on　the　spot；　huh？〃　Dolan　said；　grinning。
　〃No　malice　intended；〃　Pitt　said；　grinning　back。
　〃Not　much　to　go　on；〃　Dolan　said；　〃but　you　never　can　tell；　we　might　get　lucky〃
　He　made　a　thumbs…down　motion　toward　a　spot　circled　with　red　paint　on　the　concrete　floor。　The　forklift　operator　nodded　and　lowered　the　pallet　holding　the　parts。　Then　he　wheeled　the　forklift　backward；　cut　a　ninety…degree　right　turn；　and　clanked　off　toward　another　corner　of　the　hangar。
　Dolan　picked　up　the　oxygen　tank；　turned　it　over　in　his　hands　in　the　manner　of　a　connoisseur　admiring　a　Grecian　vase；　and　then　set　it　down。　〃No　way　in　hell　to　trace　this；〃　he　said　flatly。　〃Standardized　tanks　like　this　are　still　produced　by　several　manufacturers　for　any　one　of　twenty　differ…ent　aircraft　models。〃
　Dolan　began　to　warm　to　his　task。　He　got　down　on　his　knees　and　examined　every　square　inch　of　the　nose　gear。　At　one　point　he　had　Pitt　help　him　roll　it　to　a　new　position。　Five　minutes　went　by　and　he　didn't　utter　a　word。
　Pitt　finally　broke　the　silence。　〃Does　it　tell　you　anything？〃
　〃A　great　deal。〃　Dolan　straightened　up。　〃But　not；　unfortunately；　the　jackpot　answer。〃
　〃The　odds　favor　the　proverbial　wild…goose　chase；〃　said　Pitt。　〃I　don't　feel　right　putting　you　to　all　this　trouble。〃
　〃Nonsense；〃　Dolan　assured　him。　〃This　is　what　John　Q。　Public　pays　me　for。　The　FAA　has　dozens　of　missing　aircraft　on　file　whose　fates　have　never　been　solved。　Any　time　we　have　an　opportunity　to　mark　a　case　closed；　we　jump　at　it。〃
　〃How　do　we　go　about　laying　our　fingers　on　the　make　of　aircraft？〃
　〃Ordinarily　I'd　call　in　research　technicians　from　our　engineering　divi…sion。　But　I　think　I'll　take　a　stab　in　the　dark　and　try　a　shortcut。　Phil　Devine；　maintenance　chief　over　at　United　Airlines；　is　a　walking　encyclopedia　on　aircraft。　If　anyone　can　tell　us　at　a　glance；　he　can。〃
　〃He's　that　good？〃　asked　Pitt。
　〃Take　my　word　for　it；〃　Dolan　said　with　a　knowing　smile。　〃He's　that　good。〃
　〃A　photographer　you　ain't。　Your　lighting　is　lousy。〃　A　nonfiltered　cigarette　dangled　from　the　lips　of　Phil　Devine　as　he　studied　the　Polaroid　pictures　Dolan　had　taken　of　the　nose　gear。　Devine　was　a　W。　C。　Fields…type　character…heavy　through　the　middle；　with　a　slow；　whining　voice。
　〃I　didn't　e　here　for　an　art　review；〃　replied　Dolan。　〃Can　you　put　a　make　on　the　gear　or　not？〃
　〃It　looks　vaguely　familiar；　kind　of　like　the　assembly　off　an　old　B…twenty…nine。〃
　〃That's　not　good　enough。〃
　〃What　do　you　expect　from　a　bunch　of　fuzzy　pictures…an　absolute；　irrefutable　ID？〃
　〃I　had　hoped　for　something　like　that；　yes；〃　Dolan　replied；　unruffled。
　Pitt　was　beginning　to　wonder　if　he　was　about　to　referee　a　fight。　Devine　read　the　uneasy　look　in　his　eyes。
　〃Relax；　Mr。　Pitt；〃　he　said；　and　smiled。　〃Harvey　and　I　have　a　standing　rule：　we're　never　civil　to　each　other　during　working　hours。　However；　as　soon　as　five　o'clock　rolls　around；　we　cut　the　hard…assing　and　go　out　and　have　a　beer　together。〃
　〃Which　I　usually　pay　for；〃　Dolan　injected　dryly。
　〃You　government　guys　are　in　a　better　position　to　moonlight；〃　Devine　fired　back。
　〃About　the　nose　gear　。　。　。〃　Pitt　said；　probing　quietly。
　〃Oh　yeah；　I　think　I　might　dig　up　something。〃　Devine　rose　heavily　from　behind　his　desk　and　opened　a　closet　filled　from　floor　to　ceiling　with　thick　black…vinyl…bound　books。　〃Old　maintenance　manuals；〃　he　explained。　〃I'm　probably　the　only　nut　in　mercial　aviation　who　hangs　on　to　them。〃　He　went　directly　to　one　volume　buried　among　the　mass　and　began　thumbing　through　its　pages。　After　a　minute　he　found　what　he　was　looking　for　and　passed　the　open　book　across　the　desk。　〃That　close　enough　for　you？〃
　Pitt　and　Dolan　leaned　forward　and　examined　an　exploded…view　line　drawing　of　a　nose…gear　assembly。
　〃The　wheel　castings；　parts；　and　dimensions〃…Dolan　tapped　the　page　with　his　finger…〃they're　one　and　the　same。〃
　〃What　aircraft？〃　asked　Pitt。
　〃Boeing　Stratocruiser；〃　answered　Devine。　〃Actually　I　wasn't　that　far　off　when　I　guessed　a　B…twenty…nine。　The　Stratocruiser　was　based　on　the　bomber's　design。　The　Air　Force　version　was　designated　a　C…ninety…seven。〃
　Pitt　turned　to　the　front　of　the　manual　and　found　a　picture　of　the　plane　in　flight。　A　strange…looking　aircraft：　its　two…deck　fuselage　had　the　configuration　of　a　great　double…bellied　whale。
　〃I　recall　seeing　these　as　a　boy；〃　Pitt　said。　〃Pan　American　used　them。〃
　〃So　did　United；〃　said　Devine。　〃We　flew　them　on　the　Hawaii　run。　She　was　a　damned　fine　airplane。〃
　〃Now　what？〃　Pitt　turned　to　Dolan。
　〃Now　I　send　the　nose　gear's　serial　number　to　Boeing；　in　Seattle；　along　with　a　request　to　match　it　with　the　parent　aircraft。　I'll　also　make　a　call　to　the　National　Transportation　Safety　Board　in　Washington；　who　will　tell　me　if　they　show　any　lost　mercial　Stratocruisers　over　the　continental　United　States。〃
　〃And　if　one　turns　up　missing？〃
　〃The　FAA　will　launch　an　official　investigation　into　the　mystery；〃　Dolan　said。　〃And　then　we'll　see　what　turns　up。〃
　Pitt　spent　the　next　two　days　in　a　chartered　helicopter；　crisscrossing　the　mountains　in　ever…widening　search…grid　patterns。　Twice　he　and　the　pilot　spotted　crash　sites；　but　they　turned　out　to　be　marked　and　known　wrecks。　After　several　hours　in　the　air…his　buttocks　numb　from　sitting；　the　rest　of　his　body　exhausted　from　the　engine's　vibration　and　from　the　buffeting　by　surging　drafts　and　crosswinds…he　was　genuinely　thankful　when　Loren's　cabin　came　into　view　and　the　pilot　set　the　copter　down　in　a　nearby　meadow。
　The　skids　sank　into　the　soft　brown　grass　and　the　blades　ceased　their　thump　and　idled　to　a　stop。　Pitt　unclasped　his　safety　belt；　opened　the　door；　and　climbed　out；　luxuriating　in　a　series　of　muscle　stretches。
　〃Same　time　tomorrow；　Mr。　Pitt？〃　The　pilot　had　an　Oklahoma　twang；　and　a　short…cropped　haircut　to　go　with　it。
　Pitt　nodded。　〃We'll　angle　south　and　try　the　lower　end　of　the　valley。〃　〃You　figuring　on　skipping　the　slopes　above　timberline？〃　〃If　a　plane　crashed　in　the　open；　it　wouldn't　go　missing　for　thirty　years。〃　〃You　can　never　tell。　I　remember　an　Air　Force　jet　trainer　that　smacked　the　side　of　a　mountain　down　in　the　San　Juans。　The　impact　caused　an　avalanche　and　the　plane's　debris　was　buried。　The　victims　are　still　under　the　rock。〃
　〃I　suppose　that's　a　remote　possibility；〃　Pitt　said　wearily。
　〃If　you　want　my　opinion；　sir；　that's　the　only　possibility。〃　The　pilot　paused　to　blow　his　nose。　〃A　small；　light　plane　might　fall　through　the　trees　and　bee　hidden　till　eternity；　but　not　a　four…engine　airliner。　No　way　pine　and　aspen　could　conceal　wreckage　that　size。　And　even　if　it　did　happen；　some　hunter　would　have　surely　stumbled　on　it　by　now。〃
　〃I'm　open　to　any　theory　that　pans　out；〃　said　Pitt。　Out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye　he　saw　Loren　running　across　the　meadow　from　the　cabin。　He　slammed　the　door　and　waved　off　the　pilot；　turning　and　not　bothering　to　look　back　as　the　engine　whined　into　life。　The　craft　lifted　and　droned　over　the　tops　of　the　surrounding　trees。
　Loren　leaped　into　his　arms；　breathless　from　her　dash　in　the　thin　air。　She　looked　alive　and　vibrant　in　tight　white　slacks　and　red　turtleneck　sweater。　Her。elegantly　molded　face　seemed　to　glow　in　the　late…afternoon　sun；　the　slanted　light　heightening　the　effect　by　tinting　her　skin　to　gold。　He　twirled　her　around　and　pressed　his　tongue　through　her　lips；　staring　into　a　pair　of　liquid　violet　eyes　that　stared　right　back。　It　never　failed　to　amuse　Pitt　that　Loren　forever　kept　her　eyes　open　when　kissing　or　making　love；　claiming　that　she　didn't　want　to　miss　anything。
　At　last　she　came　up　for　air　and　pushed　him　away；　wrinkling　her　nose。　〃Whew；　you　stink。〃
　〃Sorry　about　that；　but　sitting　behind　the　plas