I heard my name, clear through the rain, saw three men halfway across the catwalk, Hannah in the lead. He had that .45 automatic in his hand and a shot echoed flatly through the rain.
Too late, for Maria of the Angels was already long gone into the darkness.
3
The Immelmann Turn
The stern-wheeler left on time the following morning, but without me. At high noon when she must have been thirty or forty miles down-river, I was sitting outside the comandantes office again for the second time in two days, listening to the voices droning away inside.
After a while, the outside door opened and Hannah came in. He was wearing flying clothes and looked tired, his face unshaven, the eyes hollow from lack of sleep. Hed had a contract run to make at ten oclock, only a short hop of fifty miles or so down-river for one of the mining companies, but something that couldnt be avoided.
He sat on the edge of the sergeants desk and lit a cigarette, regarding me anxiously. How do you feel?
About two hundred years old.
God damn that bitch. He got to his feet and paced restlessly back and forth across the room. If there was only something I could do. He turned to face me, really looking his age for the first time since Id known him. I might as well level with you, kid. Every damn thing I buy round here from fuel to booze is on credit. The Bristol ate up all the ready cash I had. When my government contract is up in another three months, Im due a reasonable enough bonus, but until then
Look, forget about it, I said.
I took you to the bloody place, didnt I?
He genuinely felt responsible, I could see that and couldnt do much about it, a hard thing for a man like him to accept, for his position in other peoples eyes, their opinion was important to him.
Im free, white and twenty-one, isnt that what you say in the States? I said. Anything I got, I asked for, so have a decent cigarette for a change and shut up.
I held out the tin of Balkan Sobranie and the door to the comandantes office opened and the sergeant appeared.
You will come in now, Senhor Malllory?
I stood up and walked into the room rather slowly which was understandable under the circumstances. Hannah simply followed me inside without asking anyones permission.
The comandante nodded to him. Senhor Hannah.
Maybe theres something I can do, Hannah said.
The comandante managed to look as sorrowful as only a Latin can and shook his head. A bad business, Senhor Mallory. You say there was a thousand cruzeiros in the wallet besides your passport?
I sank into the nearest chair. Nearer to eleven hundred.
You could have had her for the night for five, senhor. To carry that kind of money on your person was extremely foolish.
No sign of her at all, then? Hannah put in. Surely to God somebody must know the bitch.
You know the type, senhor. Working the river, moving from town to town. No one at The Little Boat had ever seen her before. She rented a room at a house near the waterfront, but had only been there three days.
What youre trying to say is that shes well away from Manaus by now and the chances of catching her are remote, I said.
Exactly, senhor. The truth is always painful. She was three-quarters Indian. She will probably go back to her people for a while. All she has to do is take off her dress. They all look the same. He helped himself to a long black cigar from a box on his desk. None of which helps you. I am sensible of this. Have you funds that you can draw on?
Not a penny.
So? He frowned. The passport is not so difficult. An application to the British Consul in Belem backed by a letter from me should remedy that situation within a week or two, but as the law stands at present, all foreign nationals are required to produce evidence of employment if they do not possess private means.
I knew exactly what he meant. There were public work gangs for people like me.
Hannah moved round to the other end of the room where he could look at me and nodded briefly. He said calmly, No difficulty there. Senhor Mallory was considering coming to work for me anyway.
As a pilot? The comandantes eyes went up and he turned to me. This is so, senhor?
Quite true, I said.
Hannah grinned slightly and the comandante looked distinctly relieved All is in order then. He stood up and held out his hand. If anything of interest does materialise in connection with this unfortunate affair, senhor, Ill know where to find you.
I shook hands it would have seemed churlish not to and shuffled outside. I kept right on going and had reached the pillared entrance hall before Hannah caught up with me. I sat down on a marble bench in a patch of sunlight and he stood in front of me looking genuinely uncertain.
Did I do right, back there?
I nodded wearily. Im obliged to you really, but what about this Portuguese you were expecting?
He loses, thats all. He sat down beside me. Look, I know you wanted to get home, but it could be worse. You can move in with Mannie at Landro and a room at the Palace on me between trips. Your keep and a hundred dollars American a week.
The terms were generous by any standards. I said, Thats fine by me.
Theres just one snag. Like I said, Im living on credit at the moment. That means I wont have the cash to pay you till I get that government bonus at the end of my contract which means sticking out this last three months with me. Can you face that?
I dont have much choice, do I?
I got up and walked out into the entrance. He said, with what sounded like genuine admiration in his voice, By God but youre a cool one, Mallory. Doesnt anything ever throw you?
Last night was last night, I told him. Todays something else again. Do we fly up to Landro this afternoon?
He stared at me, a slight frown on his face, seemed about to make some sort of comment, then obviously changed his mind.
We ought to, he said. Theres the fortnightly run to the mission station at Santa Helena, to make tomorrow. Theres only one thing. The Bristol ought to go, too. I want Mannie to check that engine out as soon as possible. That means both of us will have to fly. Do you feel up to it?
Thats what Im getting paid for, I said and shuffled down the steps towards the cab waiting at the bottom.
The airstrip Hannah was using at Manaus at that time wasnt much. A wooden administration hut with a small tower and a row of decrepit hangar sheds backed on to the river, roofed with rusting corrugated iron. It was a derelict sort of place and the Hayley, the only aircraft on view, looked strangely out of place, its scarlet and silver trim gleaming in the afternoon sun.
It was siesta so there was no one around. I dropped my canvas grip on the ground beside the Hayley. It was so hot that I took off my flying jacket and very still except for an occasional roar from a bull-throated howler monkey in the trees at the rivers edge.
There was a sudden rumble behind and when I turned, Hannah was pushing back the sliding door on one of the sheds.
Well, here she is, he said.
The Bristol fighter was one of the really great combat aircraft of the war and it served overseas with the R.A.F. until well into the thirties. As Ive said, there were still one or two around on odd stations in England when I was learning to fly and Id had seven or eight hours in them.
The Bristol fighter was one of the really great combat aircraft of the war and it served overseas with the R.A.F. until well into the thirties. As Ive said, there were still one or two around on odd stations in England when I was learning to fly and Id had seven or eight hours in them.
But this one was an original a veritable museum piece. She had a fuselage which had been patched so many times it was ridiculous and in one place, it was still possible to detect the faded rondel of the R.A.F.
Before I could make any kind of comment, Hannah said, Dont be put off by the state of the fuselage. Shes a lot better than she looks. Structurally as sound as a bell and I dont think theres much wrong with the engine. The guy I bought it from had her for fifteen years and didnt use her all that much. God knows what her history was before that. The log books missing.
Have you flown her much? I asked.
Just over a hundred miles. She handled well. Didnt give me any kind of trouble at all.
The Bristol was a two-seater. I climbed up on the lower port wing and peered into the pilots cockpit. It had exactly the right kind of smell a compound of leather, oil and petrol something that had never yet failed to excite me and I reached out to touch the stick in a kind of reluctant admiration. The only modern addition was a radio which must have been fitted when the new law made them mandatory in Brazil.
It really must be an original. Basket seat and leather cushions. All the comforts of home.
They were a great plane, Hannah said soberly.
I dropped to the ground. Didnt I read somewhere that van Richthofen shot down four in one day?
There were reasons for that. The pilot had a fixed machine-gun up front a Vickers. The observer usually carried one or two free-mounting Lewis guns in the rear. At first, they used the usual two-seater technique.
Which meant the man in the rear cockpit did all the shooting?
Exactly, and that was no good. They sustained pretty heavy losses at first until pilots discovered she was so manoeuvrable you could fly her like a single-seater.
With the fixed machine-gun as the main weapon?
Thats right. The observers Lewis just became a useful extra. They used to carry a couple of bombs. Not much around two hundred and forty pounds but it means you can take a reasonable pay load. If you look, youll see the rear cockpit has been extended at some time.
I peered over. You could get a couple of passengers in there now.
I suppose so, but it isnt necessary. The Hayley can handle that end of things. Lets get her outside.
We took a wing each and pushed her out into the bright sunshine. In spite of her shabby appearance; she looked strangely menacing and exactly what she was supposed to be a formidable fighting machine, waiting for something to happen.
Ive known people who love horses any horse with every fibre of their being, an instinctive response that simply cannot be denied. Aeroplanes have always affected me in exactly the same way and this was an aeroplane and a half in spite of her shabby appearance and comparatively slow speed by modern standards. There was something indefinable here that could not be stated. Of one thing I was certain it was me she was waiting for.
Hannah said, You can take the Hayley. Ill follow on in this.
I shook my head. No, thanks. This is what you hired me to fly.
He looked a little dubious. Youre sure about that?
I didnt bother to reply, simply went and got my canvas grip and threw it into the rear cockpit. There was a parachute in there, but I didnt bother to get it out, just pulled on my flying jacket, helmet and goggles.
He unfolded a map on the ground and we crouched beside it. The Rio das Mortes branched out of the Negro to the north-east about a hundred and fifty miles farther on. There was a military post called Forte Franco at its mouth and Landro was another fifty miles upstream.
Stick to the river all the way, Hannah said. Dont try cutting across the jungle whatever you do. Go down there and youre finished. Its Huna country all the way up the Mortes. They make those Indians you mentioned along the Xingu look like Sunday-school stuff and theres nothing they like better than getting their hands on a white man.
Doesnt anyone have any contacts with them?
Only the nuns at the medical mission at Santa Helena and its a miracle theyve survived as long as they have. One of the mining companies was having some trouble with them the other year so they called the head men of the various sub-tribes together to talk things over, then machine-gunned them from cover. Killed a couple of dozen, but they botched things up and about eight got away. Since then its been war. Its all martial law up there. Not that it means anything. The military arent up to much. A colonel and fifty men with two motor launches at Forte Franco and thats it.
I folded the map and shoved it inside my flying jacket. From the sound of it, Id say the Hunas have a point.
He laughed grimly. You wont find many to sympathise with that statement around Landro, Mallory. Theyre a bunch of Stone Age savages. Vermin. If youd seen some of the things theyve done
He walked across to the Hayley, opened the cabin door and climbed inside. When he got out again, he was carrying a shotgun.
Have you got that revolver of yours handy? I nodded and he tossed the shotgun to me and a box of cartridges. Better take this as well, just in case. Best close-quarters weapon I know; 10-gauge, 6-shot automatic. The loads are double-O steel buckshot. Id use it on myself before I let those bastards get their hands on me.
I held it in my hands for a moment, then put it into the rear cockpit. Are you flying with me?
He shook his head. Ive got things to do. Ill follow in half an hour and still beat you there. Ill give a shout on the radio when I pass.
There was a kind of boasting in what he said without need, for the Bristol couldnt hope to compete with the Hayley when it came to speed, but I let it pass.
Instead I said, Just one thing. As I remember, you need a chain of three men pulling the propeller to start the engine.
Not with me around.
It was a simple statement of fact made without pride for his strength as I was soon to see, was remarkable. I stepped up on to the port wing and eased myself into that basket seat with its leather cushions and pushed my feet into the toestraps at either end of the rudder bar.
I made my cockpit checks, gave Hannah a signal and wound the starting magneto while he pulled the propeller over a compression stroke. The engine, a Rolls-Royce Falcon, exploded into life instantly.
The din was terrific, a feature of the engine at low speeds. Hannah moved out of the way and I taxied away from the hangars towards the leeward boundary of the field and turned into the wind.
I pulled down my goggles, checked the sky to make sure I wasnt threatened by anything else coming in to land and opened the throttle. Up came the tail as I pushed the stick forward just a touch, gathering speed. As she yawed to starboard in a slight cross-wind, I applied a little rudder correction. A hundred and fifty yards, a slight backward pressure on the stick and she was airborne.
At two hundred feet, I eased back the throttle to her climbing speed which was all of sixty-five miles an hour, banked steeply at five hundred feet and swooped back across the airfield.