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Authors: Eric Walters

Hydrofoil Mystery (16 page)

BOOK: Hydrofoil Mystery
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“How fast are we going, anyway?”

“We're up to close to forty-five miles an hour. I'm going to slow it down a bit,” Casey said. “Couldn't we go just a little bit faster?”

Casey laughed out loud. “A man after my own heart.

Not this time, but you can be with me when we open it up all the way.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he said with a smile. “But let's work on what we need to do today. I'm going to put the boat into a series of tight curves and turns. We'll circle the motor launch so they can observe the way it rides and responds.”

I held on tightly as Casey swung the boat around. There was a strange sensation as the boat responded to the turn by slipping sideways, like it was sliding along ice, throwing up a sheet of spray before it shot off forward again. Casey let out a laugh and I couldn't help but smile myself. It was incredible to be here, riding along.

Then I was struck by a sudden realization of what we were doing: we weren't simply out for a ride in a boat, we were experimenting with something that would be used to destroy German U-boats; something that would save the
lives of sailors; something that could save the life of my father.

“Time to slow her down,” Casey said. The engines throttled back and we slowed and started settling back into the water. “I told you there was nothing to worry about!”

I opened my mouth to answer when suddenly the world tilted over to the side and I felt myself being thrown through the air and then … nothing.

Chapter Fourteen

I
COUGHED AND SPUTTERED
and tried to sit up but was held down by strong hands.

“What happened?” I asked as I looked around. I was in the main house, and nearly a dozen people, including Mr. and Mrs. Bell and Mrs. McCauley-Brown, hovered over top of me.

“You're okay, dear, thank the good Lord you're okay,” Mrs. Bell exclaimed.

“But—”

She put her hand to my lips. “Shhh! Just lie still while the doctor continues to examine you.”

“I'm pretty well finished the exam,” a man said. “Except for that nasty bump on his head I can see no other injuries. It's hard to tell with a head injury, though. Let him sit up.”

The hands released me and I pushed myself up to a sitting position. I brought a hand up to my forehead, which was throbbing. I recoiled in shock as I touched my head and pain shot through my entire body. There was an enormous bump, so large I could even make out the edge of the swelling when I looked up.

“Do you remember what happened?” the doctor asked. “I was … I was out … in the
HD
-4 … and … and then … where's Casey? Is he all right?” I asked desperately.

I tried to look all around but my head got woozy and I thought I was going to throw up.

“He's all right,” Mr. Bell said. “I think he has a broken arm.”

“I haven't been able to examine him, though,” the doctor added. “He wouldn't allow me to look at it until he was assured you were okay.”

“Am I? Am I okay?”

“You have a terrible bump on your head, and your brain has been bruised, but I'm certain you'll be fine.”

“I still don't know … what happened?”

“I'm afraid it's all my fault,” Mr. Bell said. “Somehow I miscalculated the force and pressure on the foils … one of them snapped. I was certain, completely certain I had everything figured correctly, but obviously I was wrong, and my mistake sent you catapulting into the water. You must have hit your head against the boat, knocking you unconscious.”

“We got you out of the water quickly. Casey had an arm around your neck, holding you above water when we got there. You'd been knocked out but you were breathing fine.”

“And the
HD
-4, is it fine?”

“I didn't have an opportunity to assess the damage.

Whatever damage was done will be fixed. I am more concerned about you,” Mr. Bell said sternly.

“I'm fine. The doctor said I'm fine.”

“That's not what he said,” Mrs. Bell corrected. “Mrs. McCauley-Brown, could you please make arrangements for William's things to be brought up to the main house and put in the guest room closest to my room.”

“But I'm okay,” I protested. I tried to rise to my feet, felt dizzy and had to sit back down.

“You're not okay. You must be observed, woken up every few hours. Isn't that correct, doctor?” she asked.

“Yes, it's a wise precaution.”

“So I'll have no more debate about this. I'm bringing you up right now!”

She took me by the arm and helped guide me to my feet. All at once Casey burst into the room. His left arm was in a sling and in his other hand he carried a piece of broken metal. It looked like one of the foils.

“Alec, you have to see this!” he practically yelled. “Leave it alone now, Casey. There'll be time enough to look after the craft later, but for now we have to care for William and you.”

“No! No, you don't understand! You have to look at this!”

“Casey, please put down the foil and …” Mr. Bell stopped and his face took on a look of complete confusion. “How did you get that foil, Casey? It would have dropped to the bottom of the lake when it broke off.”

“This isn't the one that broke off on the water. This is the other front foil. We brought the
HD
-4 back up to the boathouse and when I put some weight against it, it simply snapped off.”

“Impossible! Impossible! Your weight couldn't cause a piece of tempered metal to break!”

“It would if it were sawed most of the way through,” Casey explained.

There was a pause and everybody looked from person to person, and then all eyes focused back on Casey.

“I examined the broken foil. Three-quarters of the way was a straight cut and the last quarter was jagged where it had broken under the pressure. And look at this.” Casey dug into his pocket and then held his hand over top of the table. A fine dust filtered down and settled onto the surface. Bell put a finger into the small pile.

“Filings … metal filings,” Bell said. “Where did you get these?”

“Off the floor of the boathouse. And I know the floor was completely clean when we left last night. William had that floor spotless.”

Mr. Bell took the piece of metal from Casey. He turned it over and looked at the broken end. He ran a finger along the edge.

“It was terrible enough when this was simply an accident. Now it is more than an accident. You're saying somebody deliberately sabotaged the hydrofoil and did so in a manner that would result in a crash that could injure—or kill—the occupants of the craft.”

“It would have been easy. They could have crossed the grounds or even come in off the lake. Nobody would have seen them.”

“Can this discussion wait?” the doctor interrupted. “I need to see that arm. And why are you holding your side?”

“It's a little tender. It feels like the time I cracked a rib playing rugby.”

“We need to—” Mr. Bell began.

“You need to listen to the doctor!” Mrs. Bell interrupted. “I'm taking William to bed and you're going to allow the doctor to examine Casey!”
On unsteady feet I rose. My stomach churned, my legs buckled and I doubled over, throwing up all over the expensive carpet.

Chapter Fifteen

“B
ILLY
!”

“Hi, Simon.”

“It is so good to see you!” he exclaimed. “And you are fine? Yes?”

“I feel okay.” I didn't want to admit that I still felt slightly light-headed. I'd had to tell Mrs. Bell I was feeling “perfect” before she'd even let me come downstairs to eat breakfast. Getting her to allow me out of the house was even harder.

“I was so worried … everybody on the whole staff was worried about you.”

I laughed. “I'm sure old Isaac lost sleep over it.” “Maybe not Isaac, but many did.” He paused. “If only I had insisted that you stay working in the orchard. I spoke to Mr. Bell and told him you were a good worker and I would welcome you back. Will you come back to work with me now?”

“Mr. Bell told me you were asking about me. Thanks for putting in a good word for me … but I want to stay where I am.”

He reached out a hand and placed it on my shoulder. “I understand, but Billy, you be careful.”

“I'm always careful. I have to get up to the boathouse. I'll see you later,” I said.

“Yes, later.”

I started to walk away.

“Billy, will you be coming back to live at the staff house soon?” Simon called out.

“I hope so, but it's not up to me. Mrs. Bell says I can't leave until
she
says I'm okay.”

I waved goodbye again and started back toward the boathouse.

It felt good to be outside and moving around. For the last three days I'd been trapped inside the house. The first day it didn't matter. All I did was sleep, or want to sleep. By the second day I was anxious to get moving and nobody would let me. Between Mrs. Bell and Mrs. McCauley-Brown, I was hardly allowed to feed myself! Everybody had been so worried. At least that part had been okay … to have people caring about what happened to me.

At first Mrs. Bell had wanted my mother called, but I'd insisted that she not do it. There was no point in worrying her when there was nothing she could do. I told her I'd write my mother a letter and tell her that I was all right. It took some convincing, but she agreed. But when I tried to write the letter the day after the accident, I couldn't even focus on the paper and had to stop. I had to admit that even I was worried about me then.

It was good to see the boathouse. It was time to get back to work.

“William, it's wonderful to see you!” Casey yelled. He dropped his tools and came over to me. His left arm was encased in plaster.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked.

“Better today. Good enough to convince Mrs. Bell and Mrs. McCauley-Brown I could come out here.”

Casey laughed. “They are a formidable pair. They tried to have me stop working because of my arm.”

“Is it any better?” I asked.

“It's a bit of a pain … but not in the arm,” he laughed.

“I can still use it,” he said, wiggling his fingers, “although it has slowed me down a bit. I'll be glad for your extra two good hands.”

“How about the ribs?”

“No problem as long as I don't get into any footraces or breathe too deeply.”

“And the
HD
-4?” I asked, looking it up and down. “The replacement foils are being made in the machine shop and will be ready to be fitted by tomorrow, or the next day, at the latest. The damage to the hull was minimal and easily repaired. Maybe there were some benefits to the crash.”

“What do you mean?”

“We thought the hull was tough and the accident proved it.”

“No,” I said firmly.

“No? What do you mean, no? Just look at how little damage was done.”

“I'm not talking about that. What I mean is that it wasn't an accident.”

“I guess that was a bad choice of words. I know there was nothing accidental about it. Alec has taken measures to make sure no more incidents will take place.”

“What sort of measures?” I asked.

“Each night two men, armed with rifles, are posted outside the boathouse, which is sealed and locked.”

“I guess the guards are good, but aren't you worried about the place being sealed up and another fire being started by spontaneous combustion?”

“I'm not worried about that at all, especially with the materials being stored in the shed. And I really never believed the fire was caused that way to begin with. Spontaneous combustion is what's blamed when nothing else can be found. Besides, we'd been using those same materials for weeks without problems.”

“Is Mr. Bell taking any other measures?” I questioned. “He's asked every single employee on the estate to stop and question any strangers they see. There are always so many guests around the place that I think we've all become too complacent and not observant enough.”

“That won't help,” I said quietly.

Casey gave me a questioning look. “Go on, please.” “It's just that I've been thinking a lot the last few days.

Lying around in bed I haven't had anything to do but think. And I don't think any of this was done by a—”

“Stranger,” Casey said, completing my sentence.

I nodded.

“I think you're right. Come here, I want to show you something.” He walked over to the hydrofoil and stopped at one of the broken foils.

“This cut was made from the back to the front. Can you see, it's a smooth cut here, and then jagged metal here where it broke off?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what this means?”
I shook my head.

“When we were accelerating, going faster and faster, the pressure of our movement stopped the foil from breaking. It only broke when I cut back on the throttle and the gap opened up until it snapped.”

“So?”

“So, if I had wanted to destroy the craft, really destroy it, I would have made the cuts from the other side to cause the foil to snap when we were going the fastest. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “But maybe the person wasn't as smart as you and didn't know how to make the cuts.”

“No, it was done in a very clever way, at just the right place. I think they cut it that way because they didn't want to kill the occupants.”

“They didn't? They didn't miss by much,” I said. “Yes, but the probabilities of serious injury or death increase as the speed increases. If the collapse had occurred when we were going faster, the potential impact on us would have been more severe. Now do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“And the other thing was, how did they know we were going out for a test ride the next day? Did you mention it to anybody?”

BOOK: Hydrofoil Mystery
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