The Man on Flight ???

It all started on what had promised to be just an ordinary Saturday for Jack Barnes.  He and his family were set to go to a park along the Puget Sound.  Never mind which park; it’s not important.  Anyway, rain fell all morning that Saturday, and the trip was cancelled.

As a result, Jack was only too happy when the phone rang, even happier when it was Kurt Morris, and happier still when he heard what Kurt had to say.  “Hey, Jack!  My Dad’s coming back from a business trip, and my mom and I are going to pick him up at the airport.  Want to come along?”

“Do you even have to ask?” said Jack.  “What time?”

“1:06,” said Kurt.  “We’re picking up Robbie first.  You know, at an airport as large as that one, it shouldn’t be too hard to find another mystery for our club.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” said Jack.  “We’ll see what happens.  See you soon!”

Jack, Kurt, and Robbie [Ransom] made up the Detective Club, a group dedicated to solving mysteries.  By some accounts, Emma Barnes, Jack’s younger sister by five years, was also a member.  However, the other three did not believe those accounts.  Well, whether it was three or four, the club was always searching for a mystery.

True to Kurt’s word, his family’s car was at Jack’s house at 1:06, Robbie already inside.  They then drove off to the airport, which took a while, because of traffic.  Most of the state of Washington did not have traffic problems, but that was because its residents (for the most part) crammed themselves into the Seattle-Tacoma area along the Puget Sound.  Jack and his friends lived in Tacoma; thus, they were forced to deal with these traffic issues.

Finally, a long time later, they arrived at the airport, which was in its own city, the strangely-named “SeaTac.”  There was plenty of parking, and Mrs. Morris found a space in the hourly section of the garage.  Then, the group trooped into the building.  They couldn’t go right up to the gates, of course, because of security, but they could still go inside.

The first thing they did was to find the list of arrivals.  It was a good thing they did.  American Airlines Flight 1198, from Dallas/Fort Worth, had been delayed for two hours.

“I guess we’re going to be here a while,” said Kurt.  “Let’s explore!  Mom, do you mind?”

Mrs. Morris didn’t mind the three exploring, but she was worn out from her long drive, so she told them they could go off by themselves.  “Just don’t get into trouble!” she warned.

“We won’t!” Kurt promised, and off they went on a tour of the non-secure part of the airport.  Well, less-secure, I should say.  There was still quite a bit of security around—cameras, lights, guards.

In fact, the three boys soon noticed there were a lot of security guards.  Police too, for that matter.  It seemed like everywhere they went, they were brushing past officers.  They were coming out of restaurants, striding down hallways, and emerging from the tops of escalators.  Finally, Kurt stopped one and asked what was going on.

The officer, a member of the Port of Seattle Department, was only too happy to let the boys know.  “There’s a man named Warren Greenlaw who’s wanted all over the country, for various crimes.  Last week, one of his associates was arrested in Seattle.  During the investigation, the FBI uncovered an E-mail that said Greenlaw was supposed to be arriving at this airport around 3:30.

“3:30?” said Kurt.  “That’s in an hour!”

“Exactly,” said the officer.  “The problem is, Greenlaw’s name wasn’t on the passenger lists of any of the flights for today.”

“Is he using fake identification?” asked Jack.

“Undoubtedly,” said the officer, “which doesn’t help us any.  We don’t even know where he’s arriving from.  Here’s his picture, though,” said the officer, removing three small photos from his wallet, which he distributed to the three.  “If you see him, call security.  That man is dangerous.”

“We will,” said Jack.  When the officer had left, he turned to his friends.  “Maybe we can find this guy!”

“How?” asked Kurt.  “Look, the authorities can go wherever they want in this airport.  We’re stuck outside security.  If Greenlaw’s on any of those flights, they’ll see him way before we do.”

“Maybe and maybe not,” said Jack.  “If Greenlaw’s flying under a false identity, he may be disguised.  They might not recognize him.”

“I doubt we will, either,” said Kurt, pessimistically.  “But sure, once 3:00 rolls around, I’ll start looking for the guy.  Isn’t that him, at that table over there?”

Jack and Robbie whirled around in surprise.

“Hah!  Made you look!” laughed Kurt.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” said Robbie.  “Come on; let’s keep looking around.”

The three continued their tour of the airport, but three o’clock found them standing near one of the security checkpoints, where disembarking passengers would walk past.  “You know,” said Jack, “an airport this big probably has several areas for people to come from.  Just because this is the one your father will be coming from doesn’t mean it’ll be the one Greenlaw uses.”

Kurt shrugged.  “I don’t think we’re going to find him anyway,” he said.  “If you want to try, though, go ahead.  Here come some passengers.”

Apparently, a flight had just landed, for a large group of people were filing down the hallway.  The three boys watched intently as they passed, but none of them looked like Greenlaw.  None of them even faintly resembled Greenlaw.

“Hah!” said Kurt.  “What’d I tell you?  This isn’t going to be easy.”

“That’s just one flight,” said Robbie.  “He may be on the next.”

Five minutes later, another large crowd of people trickled by.  The boys didn’t spot Greenlaw with them, either.  Two more sets of passengers went by, and no one bore even the faintest resemblance.

“It’s almost 3:30,” said Jack, checking his watch.  “I guess about meant afterwards.”

“Or not at all,” said Kurt.  “You know, they’ve probably caught him already.  I’m going to get a drink of water—oh wait, maybe I’m not,” he said, as another group of passengers started by.  The water fountain, restrooms, and phones were all at the other side of the hallway.

Kurt waited until most everyone had passed, then dashed across the hallway.  An old lady, quite fat and using a cane (though she was not stooped) was still going down the hallway.  Somehow, Kurt didn’t see her until he was right up on her, and he instantly swerved to avoid her, but not fast enough, for he accidentally knocked her purse out of her hand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” said Kurt.  “I should have been watching where I was going!”  He stooped to pick up the purse.  “Here you go!” he said, handing it to the woman, who glared at him before she started off.

Kurt continued to the other side of the hallway, at a slower pace this time.  He turned to look back at the woman.  Then, instead of getting a drink, he reached for a payphone and called airport security.

“You’re after Warren Greenlaw, right?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Then look for a woman who just left Concourse A, appears very overweight, and walks with a cane.”

“Young man, is this some type of joke?”

“Either its Greenlaw,” said Kurt, “or this lady has the hairiest knuckles I’ve ever seen on a woman.”

It was Greenlaw.  Five officers tackled him, drawing ire from a crowd of bystanders until Greenlaw’s wig fell off, and they realized who he was.  Greenlaw had been flying under the fictitious name of Sarah Stephens McClain, which had worked quite well for him, since the investigators hadn’t been looking out for a woman.  It was just too bad for Greenlaw that he’d run into Kurt.  Case closed.