The main body of the plane was on the other side of the coral wall. He could see now that much of the wall above had crumbled and broken in on the craft, trapping it here. It would not be easy to extricate, if possible at all.
But that was Spinney’s problem. He and Bones just need to see what was in it and get it out. Presently the large Indian swam up beside him, illuminating the aircraft.
“Nice! You see that?”
He held his beam in one place — the cockpit window.
Maddock nodded. “All the glass has been busted out.” They watched as a fish swam out through the broken windscreen.
He consulted his pressure gauge. This was not the place to run out of air.
“Let’s hurry up and get it done.”
Maddock pressed the button on his BCD to add air to his vest, creating a soft pfft, and then he pushed gently off the bottom, rising to the level of the windscreen.
“Looks like it popped out completely.” Maddock positioned himself to swim through the opening. He played his light into the plane, getting the first look inside the cockpit at what might very well be the most sought-after missing aircraft in the world.
Bones echoed his thoughts as he leveled out next him in front of the windscreen. “No bodies that I can see.”
“Right. Shall we?” Maddock extended a hand into the cockpit.
“Ladies first.”
It was a tight squeeze, but Maddock floated through the opening into the Electra’s cockpit, descending between the two steering wheels, one in front of each of the two cockpit seats. Looking down as he passed over, he saw that the instrument console was encrusted with growth, although mostly still readable. Looking aft, toward the tail of the plane, he found he could see all the way to the end of it as it passed through the coral wall on the outside. Jumbles of gear and debris littered the interior of the fuselage. He could see right away that it would take some time to sort out.
“Man, they weren’t much for legroom back in the day, were they?” Bones settled in between the pilot and co-pilots’ seats on the floor of the plane, right behind Maddock.
“Amelia was quite a bit shorter than you. Better looking, too.”
“You got me there. Plus the navigator guy, Noonan — he sat in back with all his equipment, so this front seat was unoccupied.” He tapped the rim of the seat, sending a puff of silt wafting into the water.
“Hey, somebody read up on their history. I’m impressed!” Maddock was careful not to reference their briefing documents. “Now let’s get to work. Serial number. Should be a small brass plate up here. Pilot’s side under the console.”
Bones turned around and positioned himself so that he could look underneath the instrument cluster. “Looking…” He directed his beam along the growth-covered surfaces. There was only room for one of them in that area of the plane so Maddock played his light around the rear cargo area while he waited. He saw two globe-shaped objects on either side of the floor. He kicked off and floated gently over to them like an astronaut inside a space station.
“Think I’ve got it.” Bones lay sideways in the cockpit, his head wedged beneath the pilot seat, facing forward. One hand held him in position while the other held his light.
“Think I’ve got something back here, too.” Maddock settled onto his knees next to one of the globular objects. He fanned a gloved hand over it, clearing some of the silt that had accumulated there. Near the base of the object was an opening. He slipped his fingers inside it and lifted. At first nothing happened but he sure it was supposed to be a sliding dome cover, so he pulled again, more forcefully this time, and he was rewarded with a snapping sound as the dome’s cover slid open. Beneath it was the other half of the spherical shape — containing a large camera. He could see that, although now nearly opaque with marine growth, the dome was some sort of plastic that was set through the plane’s body, enabling pictures to be taken looking straight down.
Odd that if this is Earhart’s plane, she would have had it modified to accommodate these kinds of cameras. The extra weight and expense, compromising the integrity of the fuselage…
“Metal plate!” Bones’ excited tone shook him from his thoughts.
“Can you read it?”
“Hold on. Let me see if I can scrub it off. Cross your fingers.”
Maddock turned around to see Bones in the cockpit. His light was held steady on one spot.
“Yes! Serial number. I can read it. NR—”
“Wait. Hold on, let me write it down.” Maddock picked up the writing slate and pencil clipped to his vest. “Go.”
“NR 16020.”
Maddock wrote down the numbers with mounting excitement until the string was complete. He recognized the serial number from their briefing materials.
They were inside Amelia Earhart’s lost airplane!
A flash of light going off up front indicated that Bones took a photo of the plate.
“How’s it going back there?” Bones extricated himself from beneath the instrument console and turned around to look at Maddock.
“Found some—” Maddock cut himself off, aware that Watanabe would probably be able to hear him. “Found some stuff back here, not sure what it all is,” he settled on. Visually, he made an exaggerated pointing motion toward the dome camera he sat next to. Bones nodded his understanding and swam over. He looked at the camera, then frowned, wagging a hand back and forth as if to say, it was iffy that it was worth anything. The dome port was completely flooded and although it was clear that the object inside had been a camera, it was now little more than a rusted mass of parts fused together. Maddock went to the camera on the other side and examined it. Same thing. When he looked up from it, Bones was pointing at something in the rear of the plane.
A couple of boxes, taking up a fair amount of space. That’s what they looked like to Maddock from his position at the ruined dome camera. He and Bones swam through the plane to the rear-most cargo area, passing over what was obviously navigation equipment — brass devices that looked like sextants, a small telescope, a chronometer and a ruler of some type. They ignored them, heading for the boxes. Maddock went to one and Bones the other. Constructed of metal, they were each about two feet on a side. They had stout buckles and looked like they might still have watertight seals. Maddock cleared some twisted metal off his until he could heft its weight. He set it back down after realizing that it would not be easy to move.
He motioned to Bones to get his attention and held a finger over his lips outside his mask, warning him not to mention the boxes over the comm line. Bones nodded and looked at his air gauge, reminding Maddock to do the same. In their excitement of finding a way inside the plane, both had forgotten to check their air for a while.
The numbers were not encouraging.
“Time to go.” Maddock immediately dropped his crate and wrote on his slate, showing it to Bones: NEXT TIME.
Bones nodded.
Maddock quickly took some digital snapshots of the plane’s cabin — without showing the boxes — and then he and Bones swam out through the Electra’s windshield.
Chapter 7
Maddock and Bones climbed into the Zodiac and removed their dive gear while Watanabe motored back to shore. They had seen no signs of the whale despite their wariness. The swim back to the boat had been thankfully uneventful. To their surprise, Watanabe asked them how the dive went, saying that he lost radio contact with them for most of the time they were in the plane, probably because the cave blocked the radio signals. This meant that he didn’t yet know they had found the plane’s serial number and confirmed it to be that of Earhart’s plane. There was no way they could have a conversation in the small boat without Watanabe hearing or at least becoming suspicious, so Maddock thought things through to himself.