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You’re very modest, Mr. Ski

Well, thank you. But I’m afraid these next questions are going to be painful, no matter how gently I may word them.

You just go ahead and ask them. I’m a strong woman. I come from strong stock.

Very well. Now can you tell me if you had advance knowledge of their plans?

The scheme to get the money, you mean. Yes, they discussed it in my presence. But you must understand they were both dreamers. Particularly my brother Harold. He was always soaring on flights of fancy. I had no way of knowing they would actually put this one into practice. If I had known that in advance, I’m not sure what I’d have done, but I might have informed the authorities. I don’t say I would have, mind you. But I might have. I’ve asked myself what I would have done. But the truth is I just don’t know. I owed them both my loyalty. But, in spite of the provocations that drove them to it, it was unquestionably a terrible act. An immoral act, a criminal act. A terrible thing. But it’s so easy and cheap to evaluate these things in hindsight.

Yes, ma’am. At what point in time did you first hear them discuss this plan?

It must have been January.

Of this year?

Yes, of course.

That was just after the company went on the rocks.

It was just after the company was driven onto the rocks, Mr. Ski

I understand. Go on, please.

They were bitter. There’s no denying it. Our whole lifetimes brought to this point-the injustice of it. I’m sure you can see how that could affect anyone. Anyone at all. Much lesser men than Harold or Charles.

They felt betrayed?

Betrayed, angry, bitter, exhausted. There are so many words to describe it. But none really expresses how they felt-how the three of us felt, really. I worked in the office at Aeroflight myself, you know. I was a member of the team right alongside them, shoulder-to-shoulder with them. I’d seen it through with them. They’d been such gentle beings all their lives, can you understand that? And here time and time again the callous petty criminals of this world had destroyed all the things we’d worked for. Not our personal fortunes or possessions-we didn’t care about those. But out of their unfeeling greed the businessmen had literally broken Harold and Charles. In his way Harold, particularly, was a very proud man. You must understand that.

Proud of his engineering talents, you mean?

Proud of himself, as an important pioneer in the field of endeavor which he championed.

I see.

Don’t misunderstand me, Mr. Ski

Go on, please.

Time after time our dreams had been crushed by men with money. Men to whom money and power were synonymous. Harold and Charles wanted very little, really. All they wanted was the freedom to work. Inevitably, it seemed, that freedomlvas denied them. By incompetent superiors at first. That taught them they had to have their own company-their own workshop in which they could develop their own inventions without interference from bosses. But unless you’re very rich, you can’t establish your own company without outside investment capital. And as soon as you solicit capital, you have to contend with ignorant greedy investors.

Stockholders.

Exactly. No matter what we did, we were at the mercy of men with money. And men with money are men who will ruin you every time, without an ounce of feeling.



Well, that depends on whether they think you’re doing a profitable job for them with their money, doesn’t it? In any case, I gather what you’re saying is that your brother and Mr. Ryterband began to feel that they could obtain the freedom to work only by amassing a considerable fortune of their own, so that they wouldn’t be at the mercy of outside investors?

You put it very well, Mr. Ski

So they decided to steal the money.

It wasn’t an out-and-out decision, Mr. Ski

Weren’t you aware of the reconversion work your brother was doing on that old bomber? The work must have taken them months, if it was only the two of them.

You can believe this or not, as you please, Mr. Ski

Are you sure your husband didn’t know about it? Couldn ‘t he have been keeping it from you?

I’m quite sure. My husband never kept things from me.

I see. Then in fact Mr. Ryterband wasn’t let in on the plan until the last minute?

We were all let in on the plan very early, Mr. Ski

Like children hatching diabolical plots against grownups whom they don’t like. The sort of plots that are worked out in great detail, but which everyone knows will never be acted upon.

Yes. You do understand. I knew you would. Don’t you see, children’s fantasies are like that-they can afford to be cruel because it’s all only imaginary. I know I for one indulged avidly in the fantasy. We would sit around gleefully imagining the consternation of those fat men in New York, pouring their perspiration out while a bomber circled overhead threatening to destroy them at any moment, and powerless to do anything about it at all! It sounds such a terrible confession to make, but can you believe we all sat around and laughed, just thinking about the expressions on their faces?

Yes, I can see that. It was a game of make-believe.

Oh, my, exactly, yes! You do see-you really do.

Yes, ma’am. I think so. Now, how did this scheme take shape, do you recall? I mean, how did the details develop in your minds?

I’m afraid it’s rather confused in my memory. You don’t hatch a make-believe fantasy full-blown. It grows, rather like a pearl-layer by layer. Detail by detail.

There must have been a kernel. An idea that triggered it.

Well, it must have been the idea-Harold’s idea-that there ought to be a way to get our money by using our own old airplanes. The very airplanes the businessmen had sneered at, as obsolete and useless. It was the attraction of that irony, I think.

And perhaps the idea of proving that a thirty-year-old Flying Fortress wasn’t quite as “useless” as the world thought?

Yes. That’s it.

I think I have a general picture of the origins of the scheme, Mrs. Ryterband. I wonder if we could shift our discussion to some concrete details. There are questions to which we still don’t have answers, and maybe you can help us there.