"Of course," The D.T.M. penciled in the extra words, then passed the pad to Tanya. She began dictating the message.
Captain Kettering glanced at the others in the room. "Is that everything we know?"
"Yes," Mel said. "It is, so far."
"We may know more soon," Lieutenant Ordway said. He had returned from the telephone. "We just found Guerrero's wife."
THE MESSAGE from D.T.M. Lincoln International was addressed, CAPTAIN, TRANS AMERICA FLIGHT TWO, and began:
UNCONFIRMED POSSIBILITY EXISTS THAT MALE TOURIST PASSENGER D. O. GUERRERO AB0ARD YOUR FLIGHT MAY HAVE EXPLOSIVE DEVICE IN HIS POSSESSION. PASSENGER WITH NO LUGGAGE AND APPARENTLY WITHOUT FUNDS INSURED SELF HEAVILY BEFORE DEPARTURE. WAS OBSERVED BEHAVING SUSPICIOUSLY WITH ATTACHE TYPE BRIEFCASE CARRIED AS HAND BAGGAGE. DESCRIPTION FOLLOWS...
As the D.T.M. had foreseen, it took several minutes for a connection to be established, through company radio, with Flight Two. Since the earlier Selcal message to the flight, concerning its stowaway Mrs. Ada Quonsett, the aircraft had moved out of Trans America's Cleveland dispatch area into that of New York. Now, company messages must be passed through a New York dispatcher for relaying to the flight.
The message, as Tanya dictated it, was being typed by a girl clerk in New York. Alongside the clerk a Trans America dispatcher read the first few lines, then reached for a direct phone to an operator at ARINC---a private communications network maintained cooperatively by all major airlines.
The ARINC operator---at another location in New York---set up a second circuit between himself and Trans America dispatch, then punched into a transmitter keyboard a four-letter code, AGFG, specifically assigned to aircraft N-731-TA. Once more, like a telephone call to a single number on a party line, an alerting signal would be received aboard Flight Two only.
A few moments later the voice of Captain Vernon Demerest, responding from high above Ontario, Canada, was audible in New York. "This is Trans America Two answering Selcal."
"Trans America Two, this is New York dispatch. We have an important message. Advise when ready to copy."
A brief' pause, then Demerest again. "Okay, New York. Go ahead."
"CAPTAIN, FLIGHT TWO," the dispatcher began. "UNCONFIRMED POSSIBILITY EXISTS..."
INEZ HAD still been sitting quietly, in her corner near the food counter, when she felt her shoulder shaken.
"Inez Guerrero! Are you Mrs. Guerrero?"
She looked up. It took several seconds to collect her thoughts, which had been vague and drifting, but she realized that it was a policeman who was standing over her.
He shook her again and repeated the question.
Inez managed to nod. She became aware that this was a different policeman from the earlier one. This one was white, and neither as gentle nor as softly spoken as the other.
"Let's move it, lady!" The policeman tightened his grip on her shoulder in a way which hurt, and pulled her abruptly to her feet. "You hear me?---let's go! They're screamin' for you upstairs, and every cop in the joint's bin searchin' for you."
Ten minutes later, in Mel's office, Inez was the pivot of attention. She occupied a chair in the room's center to which she had been guided on arrival. Lieutenant Ordway faced her. The policeman who had escorted Inez in was gone.
The others who had been present earlier---Mel, Tanya, Customs Inspector Standish, Bunnie Vorobioff, the Trans America D.T.M., Weatherby, and the chief pilot, Captain Kettering, were ranged about the room. All had remained at Mel's request.
"Mrs. Guerrero," Ned Ordway said. "Why is your husband going to Rome?"
Inez stared back bleakly and didn't answer. The policeman's voice sharpened, though not unkindly. "Mrs. Guerrero, please listen to me carefully. There are some important questions which I have to ask. They concern your husband, and I need your help. Do you understand?"
"I... I'm not sure."
"You don't have to be sure about why I'm asking the questions. There'll be time for that later. What I want you to do is help me by answering. Will you? Please."
The D.T.M. cut in urgently. "Lieutenant, we haven't got all night. That air-plane is moving away from us at six hundred miles an hour. If we have to, let's get tough."
"Leave this to me, Mr. Weatherby," Ordway said sharply. "If we all start shouting, it'll take a lot more time to get a great deal less."
The D.T.M. continued to look impatient, but kept quiet.
"Inez," Ordway said; "...is it okay if I call you Inez?"
She nodded.
"Inez, will you answer my questions?"
"Yes... if I can."
"Why is your husband going to Rome?"
Her voice was strained, barely more than a whisper. "I don't know."