Hammond Innes: Air Bridge

But Randall was shaking his head. ‘I’m s-sorry, Bill.’ He was stuttering now in his embarrassment. ‘I’m p-pretty well cleaned out, you know.’

‘You mean you’ve lost so heavily you can’t buy those mortgages back?’ Saeton was staring at him hard.

Randall nodded.

‘But what about your horses, your car, that house down at Hatfield?’

The other stared at him. ‘But dash it,’ he exclaimed. ‘I can’t sell the house. It’s been in the family for generations. And I won’t sell my horses.’ His face was flushed and there was an obstinate look in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Bill,’ he said again. ‘But you’ve had all the money you’re going to get out of me. My solicitor warned me against-’

‘Oh, damn your solicitor!’ Saeton shouted. ‘Can’t you understand that in two months’ time-’ He didn’t finish. He had seen the obstinate look in Randall’s eyes and he turned away in disgust. His hand reached out and switched off the engine. The din gradually died away. Saeton’s hand tightened on the boss where the propeller would be fitted as he turned slowly and faced Reinbaum. ‘So it comes to this — we’re dealing direct with you, Mr Reinbaum. Is that correct?’ His voice was quiet and controlled.

Reinbaum beamed and bowed slightly.

‘What are your terms for allowing us to continue with the fitting out of the plane?’

Reinbaum shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Saeton. I do not speculate.’

‘I’ve given you some idea of what we’re doing here,’ Saeton said. ‘Surely we can come to some arrangement?’

‘The offer I have for your plane and the equipment here is conditional on acceptance within forty-eight hours.’ Reinbaum spread his hands in a little apologetic gesture. ‘Unless you can pay what is due on the mortgages I must foreclose.’

‘You know damn well we can’t pay. In two months-’

‘I want the money now, Mr Saeton.’ The softness was leaving Reinbaum’s voice.

‘But if you wait two months …’ Saeton’s voice was desperate. ‘Two months isn’t long. In two months’ time I’ll have all the backing-’

‘I repeat, if you cannot pay what is due, then-’ Reinbaum shrugged his shoulders.

Saeton turned away and in the light from the high windows I caught a glint of tears in his eyes. He went slowly over to the bench and stood there, fiddling with the armature he’d spent so many laborious hours winding, his back towards us.

‘Well, I think that is settled then,’ Reinbaum said, glancing up at Randall, whose face was stiff and wooden. ‘We had better go now, Major.’

In a flash I saw my refuge up here on this aerodrome disappearing. But it wasn’t only that. I believed in Saeton. I wanted to see these engines in the air. The money I had made ferrying planes and on currency deals wasn’t honest money. I didn’t care what happened to it. Probably it would be better if I threw it away and I might as well throw it away on this. ‘Just a moment,’ I said as Reinbaum and Randall were turning away. ‘Is it one of the mortgages that has fallen due?’

Randall shook his head. ‘No. It’s the interest on them.’

‘The interest on them?’ I exclaimed. ‘How much?’

‘Eleven hundred and fifty,’ Randall murmured.

I turned to Saeton ‘Can’t you raise that?’ I said. ‘You could sell something.’

He shook his head. ‘There’s nothing here that isn’t essential,’ he said dully. ‘If we sold any part of the equipment we couldn’t go on. Besides, it’s all mortgaged. Everything in this hangar is mortgaged.’

‘But surely you’ve got some money of your own?’ I persisted.

‘Blast you!’ he shouted, swinging round on me. ‘You don’t have to hammer the truth of this home to me. I don’t possess any money at all. For the past month we’ve lived on credit. My bank account is overdrawn to the tune of more than a hundred pounds. Carter is in the same boat. And don’t for God’s sake start asking me if I haven’t any friends. I haven’t any friends to the tune of eleven hundred quid.’ He turned to Randall and Reinbaum. ‘Now get the hell out of here, the pair of you. Take what action you like.’

They turned to go.

‘Just a minute,’ I called to them. The amount is eleven hundred and fifty?’

It was Reinbaum who answered. ‘The exact amount is eleven hundred and fifty-two pounds four shillings and sevenpence.’

‘Then perhaps you would make me out a receipt,’ I said. I had got my wallet out and was extracting my cheque book.

He stood there staring at me as though a pit had suddenly opened at his feet. ‘A receipt, please, Mr Reinbaum,’ I repeated.

He came slowly towards me. ‘How do I know that your cheque will be honoured? I do not give a receipt-’

‘You have the law to protect you in a case like that,’ I said. ‘Can I see the documents proving that you are the legal possessor of these mortgages?’ I was enjoying myself, enjoying the sudden surprised silence that descended on the hangar. Nobody spoke, and Reinbaum stared at me with baffled eyes. For some reason he didn’t want to be paid. I thought of how I had got that money and I was suddenly glad I’d ferried those planes. Somehow this made the racket worth while.

Saeton was the first to come to life. ‘Just a minute, Fraser. Apart from the fact that I can’t allow you to do this, it won’t help you know. We owe money. Also we’ve got to be carried for two months.’

‘I realise that,’ I said. ‘What’s the absolute minimum that will carry you to the flying stage?’

He hesitated. ‘About another thousand.’ His voice suddenly took on new life. ‘You see, we’ve got the metal and the castings. We’ve got everything. All we need is to cover some of the bills that’ll come in and our living-’ His sudden excitement faded and his words stopped. To carry us and pay the interest on these mortgages you’ve got to have nearly two thousand five hundred.’

I sat down and wrote out Reinbaum’s cheque. ‘Who shall I make it out to?’ I asked him.

‘Weiner, Reinbaum and Company,’ he answered sullenly.

As I entered the amount on the cheque counterfoil Saeton touched my shoulder. ‘Have you really got two thousand five hundred in your account?’ he asked almost unbelievingly.

‘Not in my account,’ I answered. ‘But with my life policy I’m good for that much.’

He didn’t say anything, but his hand gripped my shoulder for a moment.

I checked the documents Reinbaum reluctantly produced from his brief-case. Then I gave him the cheque and got his receipt. All this time Saeton had been standing over us and as the little man straightened up, he said, ‘It was the engines you wanted, wasn’t it, Reinbaum?’ There was a dangerous quietness about his voice.

‘I do not want anything,’ Reinbaum answered him. ‘Only the moneys.’ But I don’t think he expected Saeton to believe him, for he added quickly, ‘My clients are interested in the charter business.’

‘And who exactly are your clients?’ Saeton asked in the same quiet voice.

‘I am sorry. I cannot tell you that.’

Saeton took him gently by the collar. ‘It was the engines they wanted, wasn’t it? Somebody tipped them off that you held the mortgages.’ He turned to Randall. ‘Had you borrowed on these mortgages when you were down here last, in October?’ he asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ Randall answered unwillingly. ‘Possibly.’

‘Did you mention it to anyone — Else, for instance?’

Randall flushed. ‘I may have done. I can’t remember. I-’

‘You tell a stray D.P. and you don’t tell me.’ Saeton’s face was white with anger. ‘And you’re a director of my company. My God!’ He picked little Reinbaum up by his collar with his two hands and shook him. ‘Who are these clients of yours?’ he shouted, and I thought he’d break the little man apart.