Detective Lieutenant Brice, after checking with the airport tower at Everett, and with CAP officials, informed newsmen that no private aircraft had been reported in trouble, or even over the particular area in which the craft was found. “Of course,” Lieutenant Brice added, “one plane may have gone unnoticed. This is highly unlikely, but we cannot overlook the possibility. What is puzzling, to me, is that the aircraft has not been identified and there have been no bodies found.”
“The Civil Air Patrol,” Mr. Dickson commented, “has been most cooperative and are now engaged in an air search of the area, while rescue squads work in the mountains.”
[p62]
Mr. Dickson went on to state that the mystery crash will be thoroughly investigated by authorities in an effort to determine the make and model of the plane, as well as the fate of its occupants.
At present, the crash site has been roped off and placed under guard by local Militiamen. Only authorized personnel will be allowed to view the wreckage. Major Gilbert Donnoue, of the Air Force Experimental Wing, refused to make a statement as to whether the plane was of Air Force origin. “To my knowledge, we have lost no test planes. However, an extensive check will undoubtedly be run to verify this.”
Test plane? Nick stared in amazement at the words that leaped at him from the printed page. Test plane? What the hell was going on in this screwy world? No wings? No tail assembly? No Mayday calls? No record of the plane? The whole damned thing sounded ridiculous. Coupled with the fact that he had been out of touch for thirteen months, it all became weird.
And to top it all off, Nolan Brice was one of the men who had been placed on the investigating staff at the crash scene. Suppose he, Nick, had left something at the scene ... a fraternity pin, a slip of paper ... anything that would link the crash to the fact that he was alive and in Everett. The whole damned bunch would be on his tail, before you could say, “Jack Robinson.” He...
“Nick,” Beth pouted. “Will you pay a little attention to me for a change?”
“I’m sorry, honey, but it’s the plane.” While she listened he read the account aloud and, when he’d finished, they exchanged glances. “That’s the plane I was in,” he told her.
[p63]
“But you don’t know how to fly.”
“I must know, unless someone else flew it. That’s the plane I woke up beside. I must have been in the damned thing. But I don’t know if anyone else was.” He buried his face in his hands.