“I’m with the News-Vue people now,” Flash explained abruptly. “Any chance to get some shots of the tests?”
“Not a glimmer. Melveredge Field is closed tighter than a drum these days. I doubt if they’ll even allow you near the place with a newsreel camera.”
Flash mentioned the chain of events which had led him to spend his vacation working for the News-Vue Company. The parachute jumper immediately recalled Joe Wells and expressed regret over his accident.
“While I was in Columbia I inquired about Albert Povy,” Flash presently remarked. “You know, I thought there might have been some mistake about his death.”
“There wasn’t?”
“No. His body was shipped to a place called Clear Lake.”
“That town isn’t so far from here,” Brooks said thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of it.”
“Povy’s body was claimed by a man named Herbert Rascomb. A well known sportsman and—”
Bailey Brooks had been toying with a silver knife. It slid from his hand, making a clatter as it struck the floor.
“Rascomb?” he asked in a strange voice. “Did you say Rascomb?”