“Better the valves than you, Mr. Bell,” Josephine grinned. “I need my protector alive. And don’t worry about stalling the motor, it’s got plenty of inertia to keep it spinning.” Her face fell. “I’m sorry, that was really stupid of me about needing you alive. How is Archie?”

“He’s hanging on. They let me see him this morning. His eyes were open, and I believe he recognized me . . . Josephine, I have to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Look at the wing stays.”

“What about them?”

“Do you notice how they converge at these triangular king posts, top and bottom?”

“Of course.”

“Do you notice how the triangles form in essence single lightweight steel struts? The point thrusting above the wing is actually the top of the broad base that extends below the wing.”

“Of course. It’s very strong, that way.”

“And do you see how ingeniously it’s braced by the chassis?” She crouched down beside him, and they studied the strong X-braced support that connected the body of the aeroplane to its skids and wheels.

“It’s the same system as on your Celere, isn’t it?” Bell asked.

“It looks similar,” she admitted.

“I haven’t seen anything like it on any other monoplane. I have to ask you, is it possible that Marco Celere, shall we say, ‘borrowed’ his wing-strengthening innovation from Di Vecchio?”

“Absolutely not!” Josephine said vehemently.

Bell observed that the ordinarily exuberant aviatrix seemed troubled by his blunt accusation. She jumped to her feet. Her grin had gone out like a light, and a flush was gathering on her cheeks. Did she suspect, even fear, that it was true?

“Or, perhaps, could Marco have unconsciously copied it?” he asked gently.

“No.”

“Did Marco ever tell you he worked for Di Vecchio?”

“No.”

Then, oddly, she was smiling again. Smugly, Bell thought. And he wondered why. The tension had left her slim frame, and she stood in her usual pert manner, as if about to spring into motion.

“Did Marco never mention that he worked for Di Vecchio?”

“Di Vecchio worked for Marco,” she retorted, which explained her peaceful smile. “Until Marco had to fire him.”

“I heard it was the other way around.”

“You heard wrong.”

“Perhaps I misunderstood. Did Marco tell you that Di Vecchio’s daughter stabbed him last year?”

“That crazy woman almost killed him. She left a terrible scar on his arm.”

“Did Marco tell you why?”

“Of course. She was jealous. She wanted to marry him. But Marco wasn’t interested. In fact, he told me that her father was pushing her into it, hoping that Marco would rehire him.”

“Did Marco tell you that she accused him of being a thief?”

Josephine said, “That poor lunatic. All that talk about ‘stealing her heart’? She’s insane. That’s why they locked her up. It was all in her head.”

“I see,” said Bell.