Chapter 18

It was three o’clock in the morning when the jet Betsy was on arrived at the Honolulu airport. It touched down on the runway, and taxied over to the hangar. Betsy looked out the window. There was one person on duty, along with the limousine driver waiting for them to exit the jet. The man on duty was wearing the overalls that identified him as a mechanic. The limousine driver was wearing the typical black outfit of commercial limo drivers everywhere.

While gathering her stuff, Betsy asked the stewardess, “What are your plans for the rest of the night?”

“We’ll catch a taxi and head over to a hotel,” the stewardess answered.

“Do you have hotel reservations?” Betsy asked.

“Yes.”

Betsy said, “I’ve got a limo here. Why don’t you and the rest of the crew come with me? I’ll have the driver drop you off at the hotel.”

“That would be great. Let me tell everyone else,” the stewardess said with a genuine smile, rather than her typical ‘work smile.’

While the stewardess was letting everyone know about the offer of a ride to the hotel, Betsy went over to the limo driver. He was leaning against the wall reading a paperback book. Based on past experience, he knew that it would take them a few minutes to unload the plane. He started to slip the book into his pocket.

“Do you mind dropping the crew off at a hotel?” Betsy asked.

“I don’t mind. You might want to check availability of rooms before we leave. We just had a ton of Japanese tourists descend upon us,” the driver said.

It was some holiday in Japan, and a number of tours had been scheduled during that week. Tourism on the island was driven by holidays. It seemed like everyone wanted to take advantage of a holiday to minimize the number of vacation days they used on a trip.

“They’ve already got reservations set up for a late arrival,” Betsy said.

“You might want to have them check before we get there,” the driver said. “Hotels sometimes decide that this late in the night means a no show.”

“I’ll let them know,” Betsy said.

She looked back at the jet. She knew that the crew would spend at least twenty minutes making sure that the jet was left in a condition appropriate for the next paying fare. The delay didn’t really bother her. Despite the late hour, she was still on Rocky Mountain Time. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t tired, just that she wasn’t all that tired.

“What were you reading?” Betsy asked.

“A murder mystery,” the man answered holding the book up so that she could see the cover.

“Is it any good?”

The driver said, “It’s okay. It’s kind of weird, but it seems to me that all of these stories are about murder victims who are rich. I read a lot of murder mysteries and they’re all the same. I’d kind of like to read one where the victim is a regular person.”

“So write one,” Betsy said.

“I couldn’t do that,” the driver said.

“Why not?”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” the driver said.

Pointing to the book he was reading, Betsy asked, “Where does that book begin?”

“It begins with the discovery of the body.”

“So start your story there.”

“Nobody wants to read a murder mystery about a regular person.”

“You do,” Betsy said.

“Oh, yeah. I guess I do,” the driver said.

“So write one.”

“I just might do that,” the driver said.

Betsy said, “If you’ve got enough time to read a couple of books, then I’d say that you’ve got plenty of time to work on writing one.”

“I guess I do,” the driver said.

While Betsy walked off, he mumbled, “Joe Average ... that’s stupid. Anyman ... no Everyman ... no, that’s not a name. I can break that up into two names, Eve Ryman. Yeah, I like that. Detective Eve Ryman ... yeah ... that’s good.”

Several years later, an up and coming author was on a talk show discussing his second mystery novel that starred his, now famous, detective – Eve Ryman. When he was asked about how he got started writing murder mysteries, he talked about having been a limousine driver and reading murder mysteries while waiting for his customers. He mentioned a young woman had suggested that rather than reading the stories, that he start writing them. He’d taken her advice, and was happy that he had.

Betsy returned to the jet to check up on the crew. They were busy straightening up the cabin while the pilots were filling in their log books. She joined in and helped the crew straighten things up. It didn’t take them long to finish and get in the limousine for the ride to the hotel.

While riding to the hotel, Betsy stared out the window thinking about her situation. Her track record in finding a boyfriend wasn’t very impressive – five guys and five misses. Maybe, Carl could have been the one, but he was pretty adamant that the idea of marrying her was ridiculous. That wasn’t a very promising beginning for a relationship. She had to admit that her rather abrupt departure put an end to anything on that front. She sighed.

The limousine pulled up in front of the hotel. The flight crew disembarked from the car and headed to the check-in desk pulling their luggage behind them. She watched the first person in the line check in. Satisfied that the hotel had honored the reservations despite the late hour, she told the driver to take her home.

It was almost four in the morning when she reached her condominium. She entered the place and looked around at her surroundings. It was a nice place, by any standard. The furnishings were all top quality. The living room had an excellent view of the ocean.

The problem was that it had an empty kind of feel to it. It had been a while since Sally and she had spent a night there doing things that young women do when having a slumber party. The only other visitors there had been family or staff. In terms of good times enjoyed there, there just weren’t that many.

It wouldn’t be difficult to sell the place. She didn’t know how she felt about the idea of selling it, but knew she would follow William’s advice. She decided that she wouldn’t really miss it all that much and might even enjoy living in Sally’s apartment, despite the fact that it was smaller and had a much worse view. She hoped the smaller place would have a more intimate feel to it than the condo.

Depressed, Betsy went to bed.

Betsy stepped aboard the Bloated Shark. The autonomous mini sub was parked on the back, nestled into the cradle that was its support while on board the boat. She climbed up to the sub, opened the equipment hatches, and studied the equipment inside. There were a number of sensors placed on the surface of the craft, designed to measure all kinds of things. Data recorders filled the inside of the submarine.

She closed up the sub and headed up to the laboratory. It looked like all of the equipment was in place. She opened individual cabinets and checked the contents. It appeared that it was fully stocked. She guessed that Paul had been busy during the month that she had been gone.

She stopped at the cabinet that contained the shark ‘tags’: the tracking devices. There were two dozen of them. Each of them had a fusion battery that would last for three years. They would broadcast the position of the tagged sharks once every ten minutes. If it was too deep, the signal wouldn’t reach the satellite, but she knew that they would collect sufficient data to map out migration routes of the sharks.

She stepped into the little room which held the computer equipment. There was a real chill in the air despite the fact that all of the equipment was running. She noticed that two ‘Thor 9000’ computers had been added to one of the racks. She realized that Lucy had sent them to the school. She wondered how Professor Parrish had reacted to the appearance of two fifty-thousand-dollar computers.

She went out to the break area. Captain Jack was seated on one of the chairs watching the news on the wide screen television. He rose when she entered the room.

“Hello, Betsy.”

“Hello, Captain Jack. You’ve been busy while I was away.”

“Paul was the busy one, not me. He installed the last computer two days ago,” Captain Jack said.

“Have you taken her out for a shakedown trip yet?” Betsy asked.

“No. I thought I’d wait until you got here,” Captain Jack answered.

She looked around thinking she was going to be busy for the next few months. It was long past time when she started making real progress on collecting data for her research.

“I guess we should go over the checklist,” Betsy said.

Captain Jack nodded his head in agreement and said, “Let’s get to it.”

The pair went over the checklist, one item at a time. It took almost five hours to complete the inspection. It was boring, but necessary. Captain Jack, who had gone through the list the previous day, was not surprised by the results. Betsy was very pleased by the results.

Captain Jack asked, “When do you want to take her out for a shakedown voyage?”

It was a difficult question to answer. She had a few things to take care of after having been gone for a month. She had to see what was going on at school, see about renting Sally’s apartment, contact a relator to list the condo, and check in at the house.

Betsy said, “I guess we can leave Tuesday.”

“How long do you want to stay out?”

“I guess a week would be good.”

Captain Jack said, “I’ll call the crew and let them know that we leave Tuesday. We’ll spend Monday loading supplies for the trip.”

“Good,” Betsy replied. “I’ll swing by the school and see what’s up.”

“I’m sure there are things there that will require your attention,” Captain Jack said.

“Hello, Betsy.”

“Hello, Sally.”

“How was your trip?”

“It was okay. How have things been, here?”

“I’m trying to move in with Steve, but my landlord is being an asshole. He says I signed a year’s lease, so I have to pay a year’s rent,” Sally said.

“I’ll take over the apartment for you,” Betsy said.

“You’ve got the condo.”

“William says that I should sell it,” Betsy said.

“You like your condo,” Sally said with a frown.

“If William says that I should sell it, then I’ll sell it. He is never wrong,” Betsy said.

“Never?”

“Never.”

“He’s kind of strange,” Sally said.

Betsy laughed. Although she didn’t think about it, it was the first time she had laughed in a long time.

“Yes, he is.”

Sally said, “I’ll talk to the landlord and see what he says about subletting it to you.”

“That would be nice,” Betsy said.

“I’ll have to let you know, tomorrow. Steve is taking me out to dinner and a movie, tonight.”

“I hope you have a good time,” Betsy said trying not to sound disappointed.

She had hoped to spend a little time with Sally that evening. It was a minor blow to learn that Sally had other plans. It appeared that Betsy was going to be spending another night alone. She could go to a restaurant where she’d be surrounded by people. The problem was that she didn’t feel like going out to dinner, alone. She decided that she’d just have something delivered.

“I’m sure we will,” Sally said. “I really like Steve.”

“I’m happy for you,” Betsy said.

The two women chatted for a while. They didn’t cover anything too earth shaking. In some ways, it was almost like an exchange of progress reports. Sally described her research progress; while Betsy covered her trip, and the visit to the boat.

Betsy excused herself as she said that she needed to talk to Professor Parrish before he left for the night. Sally nodded her understanding, and returned to her work. She was now about a quarter of the way through the first year protocol, and was getting exactly the results she had predicted.

Betsy visited for an hour with Professor Parrish. After a little small talk about how she had spent her month away, they got down to the serious business of discussing her research. Her slow time was coming to an end. She’d be spending at least a week out on the water, every month, with time in the lab doing genetic studies based on the samples she was to collect. It was one of the first conversations that had truly captured her entire interest, and the time passed almost too quickly. Betsy left the office a little disappointed that she didn’t have others with whom she could discuss the particulars of her research.