“Tomorrow,” Vicki answered, surprised at this question. “Tomorrow at three-forty-five. Federal Flight Seventeen.”
“I’ll be on that plane, Miss Barr.” Tytell’s voice was so low that even standing beside him, Vicki could hardly make out the words. “They won’t stop me! I’ll be on that plane.”
He turned quickly and went out the door.
CHAPTER XII
The Disappearance
PROMPTLY AT THREE O’CLOCK VICKI ENTERED the airport terminal building. From a pay phone she put in a call for Mr. Quayle’s office upstairs. He had asked her to report anything to him that didn’t “feel” right to her. Her meeting with Mr. Tytell yesterday certainly qualified as not “feeling right.” She had tried to call him yesterday but had been unable to reach him.
But, once again, the FBI man wasn’t in his office. His secretary thought he’d be back shortly.
Vicki went to the reservations desk to look at the passenger list for Flight 17. There was his name, all right. Amos Tytell. So the old man had made it! Before this day was over, Vicki thought to herself, she ought to have the answers to a lot of troubling questions!
She looked around. The old man was nowhere in sight.