“WHAT I NEED TO have done,” Kane said, “is have a mechanic check the shimmy damper on the nose wheel. And I need to have him do it tomorrow. You know where to get me. Let me know.”
“I’ll do my best,” Holloway said. “But I’ve only got two mechanics this weekend.”
“Well, call me tomorrow, before noon. I’m not doing another landing with that shimmy. If you guys can’t fix it, I’ll have to take a shot at it. So I’ll want to know, one way or the other, before noon.”
“Right.” Holloway waited until the other man got to the door of the office. Then, partial payback for Kane’s scowling bad manners, the airport manager said, “By the way, there’s a guy named Bernhardt looking for you.” He glanced at Bernhardt’s card, still on his desktop. “Alan Bernhardt. He’s a private detective, from San Francisco.”