B006U13W The Flight (Jenny Cooper 4) nodrm by M. R. Hall Page B

one, I don’t tend to switch it on very often. My name was still written in the back of her passport – the person to contact. That’s how they got hold of me.’
    ‘What did she say in these messages?’
    ‘She wanted me to call her, that’s all—’
    Jenny said, ‘There’s something more, isn’t there?’
    Sherman didn’t answer.
    ‘Or you wouldn’t have the thought the police would be interested in her messages.’
    ‘It’s probably nothing, it’s . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Accidents are like that, they start making you ask stupid questions—’
    ‘I might be a better judge of that than you right now. Look, this conversation is strictly between the two of us, Mr Sherman – there’s no reason not to say what’s on your mind.’
    ‘You’re very persuasive, aren’t you? ’
    ‘Sorry. I’m curious, that’s all.’
    ‘You’d have liked Nuala – she didn’t take no for an answer either. Most pilots just deal with what’s in front of them at the present moment – anything else is a distraction – but she was never content with that. She had studied engineering, did a degree and two years’ research before she ran out of money and got a job, but she never lost that instinct.’ His eyes quickly scanned the room, then returned to Jenny. ‘Nuala’s big concern was safety. Times are tight, airlines are shrinking and cutting corners and everyone’s too frightened for their jobs to speak out . . . She ran a forum on the internet – anonymously, of course – which pilots would visit to swap stories or offer each other advice. Keeping her involvement secret was very important to her. She made me swear I’d never mention it to anyone, not in the business or outside it.’
    ‘And you thought the messages she left you might have been connected with this forum?’
    ‘The first thing I did when I heard, even before I knew she was on board, was try to log in, but it had been taken down. I can see the airlines’ lawyers might have wanted to stop the rumour mill turning, but that quickly?’
    ‘Had you visited it recently?’
    ‘About a week ago.’
    ‘Maybe her messages were about that? Perhaps she was having some sort of trouble with the forum and thought she’d better check you’d not said anything.’
    ‘I guess it’s possible,’ Sherman said, ‘but she knew she could trust me.’
    ‘Is there anyone else she might have spoken to?’
    ‘I called her brother in New Zealand. He didn’t know anything. Didn’t even know she was going to New York. She’s got a friend or two in London. I haven’t tried them yet, I’m not sure they’ll want to hear from me.’
    ‘That sort of break-up, was it?’
    Sherman said, ‘She went in with her eyes open . . .’ He let out a sigh that expressed an emotion somewhere between anger and regret. ‘You don’t fly Tornados for eighteen years and come out as Mr Home Improvements. Nuala knew that.’
    ‘You were in the RAF?’
    He nodded. ‘I got out, but like I told her, it would never get out of me.’
    Jenny was intrigued, but he was already getting up from the table. ‘I’ve got some jockeys to fetch. Nice meeting you.’
    ‘I’d like to talk to you again, Mr Sherman—’
    He pointed to the logo on his jacket. ‘You know where to find me.’

SIX
    T HE CALL FROM THE NURSING HOME came as she was turning out of the airport. It was the disapproving matron, Mrs Stewart, informing her that her father had suffered another minor stroke, his third in as many weeks. He was comfortable, she said, and the doctor hadn’t seen any need to take him to hospital. The unspoken subtext was that Jenny should hurry up and visit if she wanted to see him alive again.
    It was becoming awkward. Despite his rapidly failing health, Jenny hadn’t visited in over a month. She was his only daughter, his only close family. Mrs Stewart knew Jenny’s history, of course. All the staff did; it would have been impossible not to. It had been plastered across the local