The girl smiled, stepped away from the blackboard which she had been obscuring, and pointed. “Take a look,” she said. “One left for Ireland about five minutes ago. Another takes off for Lisbon in ten minutes. Rome, fifteen minutes. Paris ... let’s see ... not for another half-hour. That enough for you?”
“Oh dear!” Peggy said. “We’ll never find them this way! Miss, we’re looking for some people who are probably scheduled to leave on one of those planes, but we don’t know which. Perhaps you can help us?”
“The General Agent has all the passenger lists,” the girl said. “You’ll find his office on the third floor, and I’m sure that you can get the information you want there.”
“But....” Peggy began.
“It’s quite simple,” the girl said efficiently. “Take the elevator to your left, and the General Agent will have your friends paged on the public address system....”
“Paged!” Peggy gasped.
“Oh, boy, are we stupid!” Randy said. “We should have done that in the first place, instead of taking this mad dash out here! Or we should have done that, too, or had the girls do it....”
“But there’s no time for that now!” Peggy said. “They might be boarding a plane this very minute!” She turned again to the now puzzled girl. “Maybe you’ve seen them,” she began. “We’re looking for—”
“I’m sorry,” the girl said primly, “but I’m not allowed to give any information about passengers, even if I do know their names. Which I never do.”
“We’re looking for Mr. and Mrs. Dean Andrews,” Peggy went on, ignoring the girl’s disclaimer. “She’s Stacy Blair, the famous movie—”