Joyce's Log for 2nd Session

Ozymandias Charter Airlines
Hangar 19, Floyd Bennett Field, Brooklyn 
Tel. Dewey 45599

25 March 1937.

Self-charter, Savannah--NOP dep 1341 arr 1758

622 nm total flight. 341 gal fuel. Good headwind ENE. 

It’s probably nothing.

27 March 1937.

Winds 5 kn W-SW. 

Told Cissy probably leaving for California. Predictable scene. 
Dreamed that night about Cairo, and the bent pyramid. Woke up at 
4 AM, smoked till dawn. Still probably nothing.

29 March 1937.

Charter, Davenport (6 pers.) NOP-BOS and imm. ret. dep 1155 arr 1449

368 nm rt, 221 gals fuel. Weather over Hartford routed over LI Sound 
to avoid.

Tony seems to have quit. Wasn’t in the hangar when I arrived, had to 
have Cal stall the charter while I dragged Vince over from Eastern 
to finish the pre-flight. Luckily Cal was still in his seeming sober 
phase so we pulled it off. 

Probably the kid had to go do something for his other family. Maybe 
I’ll call Tommy about it. Hate to think he didn’t have the stomach.

Especially since it’s nothing.

4 April 1937.

Winds 1 kn var ESE--SSW.

Someone tried to break into the hangar today. Lillian Avery was in 
front of the doors when I showed. Gave me that dead-eyed stare she 
has, then smiled like a girl I knew back in Paris. When I opened the 
door she went after someone in the dark that I didn’t see. She moves 
fast for a rich kid. As she dove at him she flipped me a little Colt .25. 
I saw two men trying to break into the office so I fired a warning 
shot, and when that didn’t work, plugged one of them in the arm. He 
went down just as the new mechanic, Cecil Walker showed up. Told him 
to watch the skels at the door, and ran to the office. Passed Martin 
on the way, he was coming in the office as the guy I didn’t shoot left. 
Grabbed my old trench cleaner and racked a round, but the last one of 
the crooks was too far away to shoot.

Called in a favor with McManus, the Chief of Ds. No worries. Cecil did 
a good job patching up the guy I hit; think he’s got some medical. The 
guy Lillian put down had a Thai tattoo but was speaking something. 
Maybe Aklo, maybe something else. Nothing human. Reminded me a bit of 
how the fat Frenchmen was talking after he wore the mask. I restrained 
myself this time.

5 April.

Winds 5 kn N.

It’s probably something.

10-11 April 1937.

Self-charter NOP--DAL--GCAT
10 April dep 0611 arr DAL 1701
1225 nm 682 gals fuel
11 April dep 0630 arr GCAT 1422
1078 nm 600 gals fuel

Left Floyd Bennett for Love Field. Weather good all the way. Fred 
handled takeoff and I did the landing, he’d never been to Dallas. 
Friend of mine in town put both of us up, he doesn’t care about stupidity.

Took left seat for the leg out of DAL and the landing in LA. Fred 
handled the desert flying.

Rented a house in Malibu. Martin complained about decor. Cecil seems 
mostly bemused by us.

12 April 1937.

Wind 10 kn W in Malibu.

Visited Bernie Ohls at LA County Sheriff’s. Promised to get me the file 
on the Echevarria case. Martin had a lead with the safety deposit key and 
ran down to Long Beach. Doc Walker went to UCLA to trace down Jobe’s 
history.

Called Cissy. Took an hour to get a line. She screamed at me for a while 
& I let her.

Sent a telegram to Tommy. Don’t know why. Was thinking about him. About 
Africa.



14 April 1937.

Wind 15 kn at dawn W-SW dropping to 5 kn by noon.

This Echevarria seems small potatoes. Nothing like Gavigan or even 
Mukunga. Seems to have been trying to summon something, but not Gor--not 
what he said he was doing. Was worried that maybe the Messenger had 
something to do with it but haven’t seen his fingerprints yet. He never 
does things so subtly you can’t tell, once you’ve met him.

Still if something came through, like through the gate Henry told us 
about--the one that the J’s and the Limeys took out for us--I don’t 
know. I don’t know.

Couldn’t sleep. Smoked out on the porch all night. Kept my shotgun 
nearby.

15 April 1937.

Winds 5 kn W-NW.

Lillian got roughed up. Some skel of a PI tried to nab her. She whipped 
him into shape. I kinda like the kid, I think. Reminds me of someone.

There’s sun and the ocean and the air is amazing. Charlie was right to 
move out here, maybe. Of course, it would be hard for Fred and Cissy. 
But here I can sit and almost forget. Something about the water. Henry 
was always afraid of the water, but I never knew why. Here...I dunno. 
Maybe I’m thinking of that last day when we were steaming out of Mombasa, 
well and truly out of the fight. I was smoking next to Vi on the stern. We 
weren’t talking any more. Tommy was standing a little off, dark glasses 
on even in the shadows. I watched the sun sink into the Indian Ocean and 
for one last moment, I felt free, free like I’ve only felt flying over 
cloudbanks.

17 April 1937.

Winds 4 kn W.

Martin is out having lunch with his brother. Charlie brought Diane and 
Junior and Hank down to the house and we had a picnic on the beach. I 
am so glad he got out here before Pa could wear him down, use him up 
like he did Forrest. Maybe Jamie too, what the hell he was doing in the 
Army I’ll never figure out.

That PI gave us a couple of guys to check out. They sound like your 
typical bastard rich folks. We’ll see. I called Phil and we’re going to 
have a drink tonight, maybe he’ll know something.