The Golden Age

Chapter 8: Confrontation

When Clegg turned back towards her, Alice was shocked to see the barrel of a pistol pointing towards her. “Oh,” she started and her hands flew up to her mouth.

“I'm very impressed Miss Mottram by your powers of observation,” Clegg said. “But I'm also afraid that I am not keen for you to discuss your deductions with the local constabulary.”

“Good grief, Clegg,” Bertie interjected. “Is this absolutely necessary?”

“Oh, I think so,” Clegg replied, “I think Alice 's story sounds very plausible. She sounds as though she would make an excellent witness, not the hysterical type at all. I think she would be believed. Unfortunately, that would be very inconvenient. Now, Miss Mottram would you be good enough to walk over to the office there.” He gestured with his pistol. “Oh, and please put your hands up for the moment.”

Alice stared at the gun. Without speaking she raised her hands and walked towards the office. The barrel of Clegg's pistol between her shoulder blades prodded her forward. Clegg pulled a heavy wooden chair out from behind the desk. “Do sit down,” he said politely, “and put your hands behind you.”

“Bertie,” she appealed, doing as she had been told “do something. Surely you can't be mixed up in this?”

Clegg ignored her, Bertie looked a little bashful and shrugged but didn't reply. Clegg kept the pistol pointing unwaveringly at Alice . “Bertie,” he said, “You're going to have to start earning that salary I've been paying you. Find something to tie our young friend up with.”

“Sorry about this, old thing,” said Bertie, as he grabbed some rope from a packing case, pulled Alice 's arms behind her and wrapped the rope about her wrists. “Hate to do it, but Mr Clegg's the boss, don't you know.”

“Ow!” Alice exclaimed as Bertie pulled some strapping from a discarded seat harness around her ankles, tying them to the leg of the chair. Clegg watched with growing impatience; rope work and knotting were evidently not among the honourable Bertie's strong points. However the arrangement would not have to last too long.

Bertie finished his task with an entirely undeserved look of satisfaction. Clegg tossed him the silk scarf he wore when flying. “Something to keep the young lady quiet for a few moments.” Bertie pulled the scarf across Alice 's lips and knotted it behind her neck. She looked up pleadingly at the two men. Clegg looked at the gag with disapproval. “That won't do, Bertie,” he said. “You've been watching too many Tom Mix movies. A few shakes of her head and she'll have that off. I'll show you how to do it properly later but just pull it tighter for now so at least it gets between her teeth.”

“OK, Boss,” Bertie seemed willing to learn. He untied the scarf and pulled it tighter, forcing Alice 's mouth open. She gave a muffled cry as he pulled it tight and knotted it again. “Ah, see what you mean, old chap. Needs to be like a horse's bit. You should have said.”

Clegg pushed the gun into the waist band of his trousers. “I hope you'll excuse us for a moment, Miss Mottram,” he said ingenuously. “My colleague and I have a number of things to discuss. I'm sorry we can't make you more comfortable for the moment.”

Clegg and Bertie left the office with Alice still struggling in the chair.

After a few minutes, Alice felt she was getting somewhere. The knots around her wrists showed no sign of loosening but by kicking her legs she had at least managed to slacken off the harness straps that held her feet against the chair. A few moments more and her feet were free of the chair, even if her ankles were still tied to one another. Perhaps, Alice thought, she could hop and shuffle out of the hangar – one thing was clear she needed to escape from these desperate men.

She managed to get to her feet and struggled out of the office. She'd got almost to the hangar door when she heard a car pull up. Not sure if the new arrival was friend or foe, she tried to slide out of sight beside a steel cabinet.

The new arrival turned out to be a woman, a little older than Alice and a few inches taller. Any hopes that Alice had of the newcomer rescuing her disappeared moments later. As she tried to peer around the edge to get a better view, the straps around her ankles tripped her and she toppled against the side of the cabinet. The impact dislodged one of the instruments stored in the cabinet. The altimeter rolled across the metal shelf and crashed to the concrete floor of the hangar. The woman spun around and saw Alice immediately. Clegg and Bertie came running as she grabbed her. “Dear me, Freddie,” the woman said. “you just can't be trusted with young girls. Leaving them lying around the place like this.

Clegg grunted and gave Bertie an irritated look. He picked up a squealing and kicking Alice and carried her across his shoulder back into the office where she was dumped back down in the chair.

Clegg had regained his composure. “I should introduce you two,” he said. “Miss Elspeth Grant, Miss Alice Mottram. Miss Mottram here is a most observant young lady, Elspeth. Miss Grant is a flyer too, Alice , and, as you so recently observed, right handed.”

Alice gave a grunt of frustration from behind her gag. Elspeth shot a warning look at Clegg. “Oh, don't worry dear,” Clegg replied, “I fear Miss Mottram has guessed a good deal about our little charade the other night. She suspects, she tells me, that someone other than Jean Alardyce took the Silver Wing out on its final flight; a conclusion she reached as a result of noticing that the pilot was not left handed as she remembered Jean Alardyce to be.”

“Oh my,” Elspeth replied with a grin, “that is unfortunate.” She looked around at Bertie Graham and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Do be a dear and bring my stuff in from the car, would you? That parachute served its purpose but we might need it again.”

Bertie grinned and padded off. “Sure thing, old girl.”

As he left, Elspeth turned to Clegg. “How's the Honourable Buffoon with all this? He's not wavering is he?”

Clegg grinned and shook his head. “No, there's no problem there. He hasn't got the imagination to get nervous. He seemed quite happy helping to truss up our nosy little friend here. Not too good at it though, as you found out.”

Elspeth turned towards Alice who was still struggling on the chair. “And what next for her? I assume you don't want her expounding her theories to all and sundry. It was enough trouble taking care of Alardyce and getting that bloody aircraft off the ground without it all going to waste.”

Clegg smiled. “I'm sorry, I should have asked – how was your flight?”

“Hard work,” Elspeth frowned, “that plane needed a lot of flying. Trying to work with those old charts was dreadful. The Aero Club should be ashamed that they haven't got anything more up to date. And you know I hate parachutes.”

“Better than being on board the kite when the bomb went off,” Freddie grinned. “And better working with those old charts than trying to rework young Jean's route as you went along.”

“Hmm, maybe, but I didn't enjoy the landing and it took me hours to get to where we'd hidden the car.”

“Never mind, it all seems to have worked out satisfactorily so far apart from our observant young friend here.”

“That's as may be but we've still got to solve the problem.”

“That's all right,” said Clegg. “The last flight turned out so well, I thought I'd take the seaplane out for another speed trial. I'm not sure I got the carburettor settings exactly right and I am sure I can squeeze a bit more out of her with half the load. And while I do that, you and Bertie can take the young lady's car for a drive down to the beach.”