Chapter Fifteen

 

Jordan left Willie’s office and headed for the door adjacent to the receptionist’s desk. He was intrigued by a magazine on the coffee table and picked it up. Although he was standing out of sight of Willie who was seated at his desk, he could clearly hear him dialing his phone.

“Mr. Clarke, it’s Willie. Jordan Scott just left. I sent him over to speak to Captain Mansell at the flight training center. I don’t think has come up with anything that could hurt us in the crash investigation. Sure. I can come to your office right now.”

Jordan, not wanting Willie to know he had heard the phone conversation, dropped the magazine and looked for the quickest way out of the reception room. He noticed a men’s room sign on the door behind the coffee table and stepped inside. The door was just closing as Willie walked by. Jordan breathed a sigh of relief and turned to observe the room in which he was standing.

In stark contrast to the drab men’s rooms located throughout the building, this opulent lavatory looked like a locker room at an exclusive private club. There was dark oak woodwork everywhere. The countertops appeared to be marble or granite. The fixtures were polished brass. There was a shower and steam sauna. Linen towels were stacked neatly by the sinks, surrounded by a variety of men’s toiletry articles.

Jordan decided to see if he could slip out the door while Willie was in G’s office. He cracked the door and peered into the reception room. It was empty except for the receptionist. He pushed the door open just far enough to slip his head through the opening, and was startled to see Willie standing three feet away in the doorway of G’s office. Fortunately, his back was toward Jordan, preventing him from noticing the opening of the door. Jordan could hear G talking: “Let’s finish this conversation in the washroom.” G brushed past Willie, heading straight for the door Jordan was standing behind. “I’ve got a plane to catch, and I want to shave before I leave town.”

Jordan closed the door, turned, and frantically searched for a place to hide. He ran across the washroom, opened one of the large solid oak doors that lined the room, and stepped in. He was in a shower stall. He caught a glimpse of the washroom door opening as the shower door closed. G entered followed closely by Willie.

“The guys in Washington are very interested in the direction this crash investigation is taking. What have you got so far?” G removed his tie and shirt and reached for a can of shaving cream by the sink.

“I’m moving ahead with the plan to blame the whole thing on Captain Jakyll. We can document our complete compliance with all federal regulations. As I said earlier on the phone, I’ve got Jordan Scott talking to Captain Mansell today to ensure that he is aware that we are meeting all training requirements. He will probably be asked to testify at the NTSB hearings, so I felt it was a good idea to bring him up to speed on our training programs.” Willie talked as if Jordan’s visit to the flight training center had been part of his plan all along.

“Ah yes, Gail,” G remarked with a devious smile as he lathered his face. “How is she working out as our Flight Training Manager?”

“Just fine. There’s really not much for her to do but monitor the training administration. We use the same curriculums and FAA-approved procedures that have been utilized in the industry for decades. Gail has tried to make some changes by adding a few procedures she used before she came to work for us. I’ve indulged her to some extent, but we’re still fundamentally keeping to business as usual. Absolutely nothing to worry about in terms of our training of Jakyll,” Willie reported confidently.

“She’s been a very welcome addition to the company,” G sneered as he finished shaving.

Willie knew all about the affair between G and Captain Gail Mansell. It was vitally important that Consolidated hired a diverse mix of pilots of differing minorities to ensure the airline remained eligible for its share of federal government contract work. G had left strict instructions that some of these positions were to be filled with women that were “easy on the eyes,” as he put it. He was to be kept informed when new hires that met this criterion were selected. G would then make a special effort to meet with them personally and make them feel “welcomed” to the airline. G used his position of power and influence within the company to ensure that the newly employed females that “appreciated his personal interest in them” would have no problems during their probationary period of employment.

All newly hired pilots were under special scrutiny when they were first hired by an airline. Any irregularities in their job performance could result in immediate termination. There were a lot of applicants for the very few jobs available, so pilots were willing to do almost anything to avoid problems during their probationary period.

G was all too aware of this, and took advantage of this situation from time to time. Gail had been one of the “beneficiaries” of G’s special interest in company new hires.

Soon after they began seeing each other on a regular basis, he had her transferred to the training department. This position afforded her much better pay and working conditions than those of a pilot flying the line at the bottom of the seniority list. Their relationship had flourished for a while, but he soon grew tired of her and ended the affair.

In an effort to facilitate this, he had Willie promote her to the position of Manager of Flight Training. G then explained to her that it was a violation of company policy for management personnel to become involved romantically with one another, and for the sake of both their careers, they would have to stop seeing each other.

G opened one of the locker doors next to the shower where Jordan was hiding, and retrieved a freshly laundered white dress shirt. He put on the shirt, replaced his tie, and announced, “I’ve got a flight to catch in an hour. Keep a close eye on this investigation. If anything goes wrong from our end of this, the boys in D.C. will see to it we end up like Wilbur Rutledge.”

Willie’s eyes grew two sizes larger as he grasped the gravity of G’s statement. “You’re not serious . . . I mean no problem, Uh . . . I’m on top of this all the way.”

“You better be,” G cautioned and gave Willie a look of intense anger. He turned and walked past Willie and exited the washroom.

“Oh shit!” Jordan heard Willie groan as he leaned against the shower door.

“Thank God this door doesn’t open inward,” Jordan thought. “Willie would be sitting in my lap right now.”

Willie leaned against the door for what seemed like an eternity as he mumbled a few more unintelligible expletives under his breath. He finally regained his composure and left the washroom.

Jordan waited several minutes, and then slowly came out of the shower. He peered out the door into the reception area and, seeing no one, walked anxiously back to his office. He closed the door and collapsed into his chair, attempting to regain his composure.

When his heartbeat returned to normal, he grabbed his coat and headed downstairs to the parking lot and the Consolidated Airlines Flight Training building.