Chapter 16 #2
“You think he respects us more now?” Marvel asked. “Seems that way to me.”
“I know I respect what he said to us yesterday more than I did initially.”
“What do you mean?”
“He told us straight how ugly the world is. I think we can both agree he’s right.” Pancho nodded.
Marvel sighed.
As for her, Pancho enjoyed the last moments of quiet before the chaos began all over again.
A few spectators were already starting to arrive, full of excitement and eager anticipation as they hiked from their cars and spread blankets on the ground by the runway, thankfully not on it. She commented, “They’re up early.”
“We want the public to get excited about aviation,” Marvel said. “Particularly about women aviators.”
“Sure,” Pancho agreed. “Thing is, folks like Ayers and Henderson only want the headlines, women pilots be damned. I swear, they’re practically drooling at the prospect of a catastrophe in this race. Makes me ill.”
Marvel’s expression tightened. “They’d be happy to see us go down in flames.”
As Pancho gazed down the row of planes, a sense of foreboding came over her. Had they found all of the sabotaged planes? There was no way to know for sure.
“I’m planning on disappointing Ayers and everyone like him,” Marvel declared. “You can wager your last penny on that.”
Pancho liked the confidence in Marvel’s eyes. It was nice not to feel so alone in her pursuit of flying for once. She gave Marvel a big hug and declared, “You bet we’re going to disappoint them.”
They traded fond looks. Marvel really did feel like the sister she’d never had, and it seemed Marvel felt the same way about her. If nothing else came out of this race but a lifelong friendship with Marvel Crosson, the whole thing would have been worth it.
As they linked arms and strolled toward their planes, Pancho said cheerfully, “I might just have to get all dolled up once we reach Cleveland so I can have tea with Dr. Ayers. I can’t wait to see him choke on his cucumber sandwich.”
Marvel let out a silvery laugh of joy, her brown eyes sparkling with hope and a dash of mischief.
Pancho said, “I’ve never met another person before who is so like me.”
“We’re sisters, sure enough,” Marvel agreed. They hugged again before she headed off briskly for her plane.
Pancho stood in front of her plane for a moment to soak it all in. The impressive line of aircraft. The top female aviators in the world moving around them. Without a doubt, this was a defining moment in aviation history. She was humbled and grateful to be among these women, to be a part of it.
Of course, someone wanted them to fail. Someone always wanted to prevent others from achieving great things.
But this time, succeeding anyway was especially important.
She turned her attention to her plane, going over it with a critical eye, looking for the tiniest thing out of whack.
She expected all the women were doing the exact same thing right now.
They were all worried about sabotage and determined to foil any attempts to bring them down.
So, the saboteurs wanted a fight? Fine. She’d give them one. Fighting was something she knew a whole lot about.
Horace Aldridge was still drinking his first cup of coffee when the telephone rang in the front hall. He pulled his napkin out of his collar and headed for the phone.
“Whoever is calling so early?” his wife called from the kitchen.
“I’m sure it’s about the air race!” he yelled back. He picked up the receiver. “Good morning?”
“You better have something good to say to me,” said the voice on the other end. Vito Lazovsky didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Because I don’t like those headlines saying them girlies are skipping Calexico. I’ve got a lot riding on those planes going there.”
“They are going to Calexico, just like I promised they would,” Horace assured him. “The only change is that they’re doing a flyover. The airport will still be full of spectators, and all the law enforcement in the region will be at the airport to control them.”
Lazovsky harrumphed, and Horace said soothingly, “All it means is your planes will have a shorter window of time to cross the border while nobody’s watching it. Tell your men to be on time, and everything should proceed in good order.”
“Well now, that’s good to hear,” Lazovsky replied, sounding mollified. “Because you came to me. I won’t be losing money on this partnership, or you and me, we’re gonna have a problem. You promised me planes at Calexico.”
“And you shall have them,” Horace insisted. “You cannot believe the headlines. They print whatever will sell papers. I give you my word the planes will go there today as planned. As a bonus, there will be a single plane flying the route a day behind.”
“Don’t you forget the rest of our deal. Those dames also have to quit the race. Some important men paid me to make that happen. They got a lot of dough riding on this race not finishing.”
Horace had never been sure whether Lazovsky’s associates had business interests the derby threatened or whether his associates had gambled large sums of money on the race.
Either way, Lazovsky had offered him a huge payment to make sure the racers quit or the race itself was canceled before any of the women reached Cleveland.
“I don’t wanna have to have your head smashed in if you don’t deliver. But if I gotta, I’ll sit back and watch ’em do it. Understan’?” Lazovsky threatened before hanging up.
Horace took a minute to compose himself.
He wasn’t accustomed to being threatened with violence by a business partner.
For the hundredth time, he asked himself if all this was really worth the gigantic payday he’d been promised.
He cleared his throat and headed for the dining room, his knees still wobbly.
When he got back to the table, he drained his coffee in a single gulp and gave himself a pep talk.
The derby was under his control. With the big airshow and National Air Races starting here in Cleveland, Cliff Henderson was too busy to deal with the women’s air race and had turned the whole thing over to him to run going forward.
He still had seven days to figure out a way to end the race without anyone suspecting him of tampering with it. There was no need to worry.
It was a shame the oil in the fuel tanks had been discovered, though.
It was an untraceable way to take out a plane in midair with nobody nearby to be blamed for it.
And after the plane crashed and burned, there would be no evidence left behind for anyone to make accusations of foul play.
It would have been an elegant solution to his problem, if he did say so himself.
Oh, well. He would find another way to stop the race.
And if those stubborn females didn’t heed the warning and quit of their own volition, they all deserved what they got.