Shot on Location Read Online Free PDF Page B

Rhona said.
    The man smiled warmly. “That’s right. You were pretty nervous when we talked yesterday but I knew you would remember. I do have a distinguishing mark, you might say.”
    “You’re Mr. Brooks Martins,” Rhona repeated, “but I can’t remember who—oh, you’re from the American Embassy, aren’t you?”
    “That’s close enough. I think we have some news at last, Mrs. Avery—” Martins paused and stared questioningly at Brad. “You’re not a reporter, I hope,” he said.
    “I’m a friend of the family,” Brad answered. “I flew in from London this morning on the same plane with Mr. Lange. I was flying tourist. I’m one of the less affluent friends of the family.”
    It might have been a mistake saying that. Rhona was still holding his hand. He felt the pressure lessen and then she let go. He looked at her for any visual evidence that she might be aware of or show any sign of conscience for Harry’s theft of his idea. She avoided his eyes and stared at Martins.
    “I can vouch for Mr. Smith,” she said. “What is the news?”
    Peter Lange stepped forward. “I’m sure Mr. Smith wouldn’t mind leaving if Martins has a confidential report to make. He can always come back later.”
    “It’s not that confidential,” Martins said. “It’s not even positive. There’s been a report of what seems to be plane wreckage, sighted in a mountain pass about ten miles from the Albanian border north-west of Kastoria. It may or may not be the plane your husband chartered in Corfu. After all, that’s a long way from the home base and that little plane didn’t have much of a cruising range.”
    “It might have refuelled,” Lange said.
    “Yes, that’s a distinct possibility. From what we’ve been told at Corfu, the reason Mr. Avery wanted to be flown in this particular plane was because it needed so little space to land and take off and could be flown so close to the ground. So it wouldn’t even have been necessary to find a landing field. They might have set down in a cow pasture—”
    “Goat pasture,” Lange corrected. “You’re in Greece, Mr. Martins.”
    “So I am. All right, a goat pasture, a crossroads gas station—any good sized backyard. I understand the aerial search-party that spotted the wreckage has taken pictures. They’re being flown to Corfu for identification.”
    Somebody had to ask the question. Brad volunteered.
    “No report of bodies or signs of survivors?”
    “No, nothing but the wreckage. I wanted to warn you, Mrs. Avery, so you can steel yourself for the press and police inquisition, if something breaks in the next few hours.”
    “Mrs. Avery is grateful,” Lange said.
    “There may be all kinds of repercussions,” Martins added. “The local authorities—what we call the ‘in’ group back in the States—may want to know what Avery was doing so near the border, if it does turn out to be the Avery plane.”
    “There was a frightful bore at the airport,” Lange recalled. “A Captain Koumaris. He posted the guards in the corridor—the ones who weren’t going to let you in.”
    “As long as all he does is bore, you’ve no problem, Mr. Lange. Meanwhile, all of what I’ve told you is under wraps and you won’t be bothered until it breaks. Mrs. Avery, are you all right?”
    Rhona had listened to everything Martins said without speaking a word or moving a muscle. Now, as if someone had loosened a spring that held her tension in such tight control, she collapsed. Brad caught her as she started to fall. She was unconscious when he carried her into the bedroom and placed her on the bed.
    “Do you want me to call the house doctor?” Martins asked from the doorway.
    “I’m sure she’ll be all right,” Lange said. “Harry has his own doctor, Dr. Johnson, travelling with the company. I’ll call if she doesn’t come around.”
    She had fainted—that was all. She was already beginning to stir and moan softly. It was when Brad began to massage her wrists