The Other Side of Midnight

Whitestone stared at her. "I don't understand."

"Didn't you tell me that you'd like to have your own electronics company one day?"

He recalled mentioning it to her casually, and it surprised him that she had remembered.

"That was just a pipe dream," he replied. "It would take a lot of money."

"A man with your ability," Noelle said, "shouldn't be stopped by a lack of money."

Whitestone sat there uneasily, not knowing what Noelle Page expected him to say. He did like his job. He was making more money than he had ever made in his life, the hours were good and the work interesting. On the other hand he was at the beck and call of an eccentric billionaire who expected him to be available at any hour of the day or night. It had raised hell with his personal life, and his fiancee was not happy about what he was doing, good salary or no.

"I've been talking to a friend of mine about you," Noelle said. "He likes to invest in new companies."

Her voice had controlled enthusiasm, as though she were excited about what she was saying and yet was being careful not to push him too hard. Whitestone raised his eyes and met hers.

"He's very interested in you," she said.

Whitestone swallowed. "I--I don't know what to say, Miss Page."

"I don't expect you to say anything now," Noelle assured him. "I just want you to think about it."

He sat there a moment, thinking about it. "Does Mr. Demiris know about this?" he asked finally.

Noelle smiled conspiratorially. "I'm afraid Mr. Demiris would never approve. He doesn't like to lose employees, especially good ones. However--" she paused fractionally, "I think someone like you is entitled to get everything out of life that he can. Unless of course," she added, "you want to go on working for someone else the rest of your life."

"I don't," Whitestone said quickly and suddenly realized that he had committed himself. He studied Noelle's face to see if there was any suggestion that this could be some kind of a trap, but all he saw was a sympathetic understanding. "Any man worth his salt would like to have his own business," he said defensively.

"Of course," Noelle agreed. "Give it some thought, and we'll talk about it again." And then she added warningly, "It will be just between us."

"Fair enough," Whitestone said, "and thank you. If it works out, it will really be exciting."

Noelle nodded. "I have a feeling that it's going to work out."

CATHERINE

Washington-Paris: 1946

13

At nine o'clock on Monday morning Larry Douglas reported to the chief pilot, Captain Hal Sakowitz, at the Pan American office at LaGuardia Airport in New York. As Larry walked in the door, Sakowitz picked up the transcript of Larry's service record that he had been studying and shoved it into a desk drawer.

Captain Sakowitz was a compact, rugged-looking man with a seamed, weather-beaten face and the largest hands that Larry had ever seen. Sakowitz was one of the real veterans of aviation. He had started out in the days of traveling air circuses, had flown single-engine airmail planes for the Government and had been an airline pilot for twenty years and Pan American's chief pilot for the past five years.

"Glad to have you with us, Douglas," he said.

"Glad to be here," Larry replied.

"Eager to get into a plane again?"

"Who needs a plane?" grinned Larry. "Just point me into the wind, and I'll take off."

Sakowitz indicated a chair. "Sit down. I like to get acquainted with you boys who come in here to take over my job."

Larry laughed. "You noticed."

"Oh, I don't blame any of you. You're all hotshot pilots, you have great combat records, you come in here and think 'if that schmuck Sakowitz can be Chief Pilot, they oughta make me Chairman of the Board.' None of you guys plan to stay navigators very long. It's just a stepping stone to pilot. Well, that's fine. That's the way it should be."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Larry said.