Page 9 - Murder on the Dirigible

Murder on the Dirigible

MATTHEWS: Rita does take some getting used to.

MACALLISTER: Tell me, sir: who are the owners of the company?

MATTHEWS: Now, that’s a question I can’t precisely answer. Mrs.
Pomello is one, of course. The others are businessmen in the Bay
Area; I don’t know their names or how much they have invested.

MACALLISTER: Mr. Fisk said they were going to have a meeting in
San Francisco tomorrow morning. That’s why the two of them are
on this flight.

MATTHEWS: My, my, Miss MacAllister, you certainly have been
gathering a lot of information since we lifted off. Have you had any
time for the other passengers?

MACALLISTER: (stands) Sir, you needn’t scold me! Whatever the
passengers wish to tell me, I must listen to politely. Many of them
are nervous about flying and I have been trained to reassure them. If you feel I shouldn’t be discussing their personal affairs, then I shall refrain from mentioning them in the future.

MATTHEWS: Oh, come on, now, Lucille; unbend a little. I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to sound so nasty. I guess I’m a little bit on edge
tonight.

PERKINSON: (returns) Boy, they’re really jamming the aisles back
there. I just managed to squeak into the restroom ahead of some old
biddy with a face like a prune.

MATTHEWS: That’ll do, Lieutenant. We must maintain a certain
level of professional decorum on board this airship. Besides, you
never know when one of the passengers will pop into the cockpit for
a peek at the mysteries of aerial navigation.

PERKINSON: Yes, sir. (sits, puts on earphones) I think it’s time for
me to get another fix on our position.

MACALLISTER: And I think it’s time for lights-out. I’ll be back for
the coffee cups later. (goes into passenger compartment; bumps into
Fisk, who has been standing next to cockpit door, as if
eavesdropping) Oh! Pardon me, sir.

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