UAAG CH21

“Leon Lorraine, captain of Martha Airlines Flight 123, 28 years old, 1,632 flight hours, passed away at 3 AM on the 4th.”

Under the bright, dazzling lights, a four-inch captain’s ID photo was stuck on the whiteboard. The high-wattage incandescent lamp shone on the glossy photo paper, reflecting a layer of light.

The photo showed a young man with brown hair and a gentle smile. He was wearing a sharp captain’s uniform, with four stripes on his shoulder symbolizing professionalism, knowledge, skill, and responsibility.

Zhuo Huan wrote the captain’s name beside the photo and looked up at Fu Cheng: “What did his family say?”

Spending the entire night, Fu Cheng communicated with the families of the two deceased pilots. However, his brows furrowed, indicating that the result of this communication was clearly unsatisfactory: “Didn’t get much useful information. Captain Lorraine’s wife is a full-time housewife; her husband rarely mentioned his work. According to his wife, he joined Martha Airlines last year and only became a captain in August this year. At that time, they even went out for a special dinner to celebrate Lorraine’s promotion to captain.”

Fu Cheng printed out all the information obtained from the conversation and distributed it to the investigators present. He said, “Lorraine worked in many small airlines before. There are many small airlines in Europe, and he held the position of co-pilot in these companies. Only when he arrived at Martha Airlines was he promoted to captain. According to information from the airline, Lorraine had no bad flight records, and his flight training was always above passing. However, Lorraine’s parents died early, and he grew up in a welfare home. His wife is a full-time housewife, so his job as a captain is the sole source of income for the entire family. His wife said he worked very hard and very diligently.”

Zhuo Huan exchanged a glance with Fu Cheng. He picked up a marker and wrote a line of words beside the captain’s photo.

High financial pressure, newly promoted captain.

Zhuo Huan: “Pay attention to this point: the captain lacked extensive flight experience and had significant financial pressure. Continue to ask his wife if Lorraine had any other part-time jobs besides his normal flight work.” The last sentence was directed at Fu Cheng.

Fu Cheng nodded: “Okay.”

Flying is an extremely physically demanding task requiring high concentration and responsiveness.

The laws of every country have strict regulations on pilots’ rest periods, requiring them to get sufficient quality sleep before takeoff. This sleep time varies by country, but mostly it is no less than ten hours.

Fu Cheng looked at the young captain’s smile on the whiteboard, his gaze gradually becoming solemn. If the captain, due to excessive financial burdens, secretly engaged in part-time work and did not get enough rest, then his attention, concentration, and demonstrated skills while flying would be very questionable.

Zhuo Huan flipped through the captain’s relevant information. He walked to the other side of the whiteboard and stood beside the photo of Co-pilot Gerard Truffaut: “What did Gerard Truffaut’s family say?”

Fu Cheng revealed a complicated expression: “His situation is somewhat special.”

Gao Yun, sitting nearby, turned to look at him: “How so?”

Fu Cheng sighed: “Gerard Truffaut, 26 years old, co-pilot of Martha Flight 123, 823 flight hours, passed away at 1 PM on the 3rd. One thing everyone already knows is that he is the heir to the Truffaut Group. But according to Gerard’s friend Lina, Gerard was kicked out of his home four years ago and hasn’t returned for four years. As for the reason he ran away from home, it was because he wanted to be a pilot, and his parents disagreed.”

Everyone suddenly realized: “So that’s why he was at a little-known small airline.”

“Yes,” Fu Cheng said. “There are too many airlines in Europe. Without an outstanding resume or special background, it’s hard to get into a major airline. Even if you get into a major airline, it’s hard to become a pilot. So many pilots with ordinary backgrounds choose to enter small airlines first to accumulate flight hours. When there’s a chance, they enter a big company. By then, the flight hours they have accumulated will become their qualifications.”

Everyone flipped through Gerard’s resume.

Fu Cheng: “Gerard’s talent in flying was average. He failed twice in the ‘approach’ and ‘pitot tube icing’ test items. He joined Martha Airlines in April this year and started flying this Martha 123 in August. Since he cut off relations with his family, and a co-pilot’s salary is limited, Gerard was also financially strapped.”

This answer exceeded everyone’s expectations, causing a wave of sighs.

Who would have thought that the heir of the famous Truffaut family was living a very impoverished life?

Zhuo Huan: “Also check if he had any part-time jobs.”

Fu Cheng: “Okay. By the way, Old Joseph said earlier that the names of these two pilots were not on Martha Airlines’ employee list, and Martha Flight 123 was not a Martha Airlines plane either. I asked the families about this. They all thought the pilots were employed by Martha Airlines because they had been flying this plane.”

Zhuo Huan nodded slightly: “Regarding this matter, I’ve already sent Old Joseph to the UK, directly to Martha Airlines headquarters, to clarify the situation.”

This was as far as the pilot information went for now. Before Old Joseph obtained more information, everyone’s gaze shifted from the two deceased pilots.

Zhuo Huan looked at Su Fei: “How is the black box situation?”

Su Fei immediately deflated: “A bit more serious than I imagined. When the plane hit the mountain, the speed was probably around 200 knots; you know, it was climbing. So the speed at impact was too great, and the whole plane shattered. I didn’t expect even the black box to be greatly affected. I did a simple repair, but the result wasn’t good. This afternoon I’ll take the black box to France, to the ATR company headquarters to repair it; they have more professional computers.”

“How long will it take approximately?”

“At least a week.”

“OK, this afternoon you go to France with the EASA investigator.” Having arranged Su Fei’s work and summarized all currently known information, Zhuo Huan turned around, his gaze lingering on the two pilots.

Suddenly, behind him, the voice of EASA person-in-charge Gao Yun rang out: “Since the black box hasn’t been repaired yet, let’s hypothesize the cause of the accident first. Needless to say about the pilots’ situation, both were very young and inexperienced pilots. It is possible that they made a piloting error, leading to the plane crash. Besides that, I personally feel that there might have been a problem with the plane’s engine.”

Zhuo Huan turned around: “Let’s hear it.”

Given the floor by Zhuo Huan, Gao Yun immediately stood up. He walked to the computer and projected the accident scene photos taken by the investigation team onto the large screen. “Look, here.” He walked to the large screen and pointed to a ruin charred by fire.

The image on the large screen was a pitch-black mountainside surrounded by lush green trees. A large crater had been smashed into the middle, and the soil was burned scorched; the shape of an airplane could barely be discerned within it.

Gao Yun: “Here is the left wing. Here is the cabin. And here is the right wing. The impact point of the left wing is higher, on the upper side of the mountainside. The impact point of the right wing is lower, on the lower side of the mountainside. If we assume the plane hit the mountain head-on, both sides should be at equal height. But obviously, it hit the mountain sideways; the fuselage had a significant tilt. So I suspect…” He looked up at Zhuo Huan, his gaze grave, “There was a problem with the plane’s right engine, causing a sudden stall, hitting the mountain and crashing.”

It had to be said that for Gao Yun to become a senior investigator for EASA at such a young age, he indeed possessed a keen sense and rich experience.

Fu Cheng observed the accident scene photo on the screen, and he agreed with Gao Yun’s speculation. “At least when this plane hit the mountain, it indeed tilted to the right.”

Zhuo Huan glanced at him, quickly withdrew his gaze, looked at Gao Yun, and said indifferently: “You are responsible for inspecting the aircraft engine.”

Gao Yun: “Okay!”

With tasks assigned to everyone, Fu Cheng followed Zhuo Huan to the candy factory warehouse.

In just one day, this spacious warehouse had completely transformed.

The air was still filled with the cloying scent of candy, but there wasn’t a single box of candy left in the warehouse. Replacing them were countless fragments of aircraft wreckage. EASA investigators were carefully sweeping soil and dust off the fragments with brushes.

This plane had smashed too fragmentarily; to clean all the fragments would take at least two days.

Gao Yun led his subordinate investigators searching in the ruin-like warehouse for half a day, finally finding parts suspected to be the right engine. They inspected them carefully, while not far away, Zhuo Huan and Fu Cheng stood side by side, watching their actions.

“Do you think it was engine failure?”

A cool and indifferent voice sounded. Fu Cheng was slightly stunned and turned to look at the man beside him. After pondering for a moment, he said: “What Mr. Gao said is not unreasonable. At least from the crash photos, there is this possibility.”

“The ATR-72 is a twin-turboprop aircraft; this plane is not equipped with an APU…” Speaking of this, Zhuo Huan suddenly stopped.

Fu Cheng: “Teacher Zhuo?”

Under the bright and brilliant sunshine, amidst the roaring water of the Rhine Falls, Zhuo Huan stood with hands in his coat pockets, calmly looking at the investigators in the warehouse. After a long while, he said in an extremely low voice: “Nothing.”

He spoke extremely fast, but unfortunately, Fu Cheng’s hearing was as good as his eyesight. He was somewhat confused: “Teacher Zhuo, I understand what you mean. I haven’t flown an ATR-72, but I have some understanding of it. It doesn’t have an extra APU system; its APU is set on the right engine. Once the right engine fails, it is very likely to affect the entire flight of the aircraft. The electrical system on the plane will lose control completely.”

“Are you sure it will definitely be like that?”

Fu Cheng froze.

Zhuo Huan: “I don’t know much about the ATR-72, but perhaps it’s not necessarily so.”

Fu Cheng suddenly realized something.

Two minutes later, Fu Cheng asked tentatively: “This plane, you haven’t disassembled it?”

Zhuo Huan: “…”

Fu Cheng: “?”

“Mn…” After a sound as light as a mosquito’s hum, Lord Zhuo turned and walked away, “Let’s go to the hospital.”

Fu Cheng looked at his back, and his continuously suppressed mood finally felt a bit of relief. He couldn’t help hooking up the corners of his mouth and followed.

At 14:00 on October 4, 2020, exactly two days had passed since the plane crash.

The co-pilot passed away yesterday, and in the early hours of this morning, the tormented captain also failed to survive the long night. He never woke up and quietly left this world for heaven amidst the sound of instruments echoing all night in the ICU ward.

In the Schaffhausen town hospital, the mother and daughter who had kept vigil for a day and night were already mentally prepared.

The moment the young wife saw her husband burned without a single piece of intact skin, she knew she might never see her husband again in this life. The young daughter didn’t know what had happened; she was just frightened by the terrible burns all over her father’s body.

The father on the hospital bed didn’t look human at all, but like a zombie in a horror movie. The skin had all peeled off, leaving bloody red flesh all over his body.

“Mom, is Dad dead?”

Holding her daughter, the young mother shed silent tears but revealed a gentle smile: “Mn, Dad is gone, he went to heaven. How wonderful, he no longer has to endure this pain.”

The daughter nodded ignorantly.

That must hurt a lot; it looks very painful.

Aside from grief, the husband’s departure brought this mother and daughter a comfort akin to despair.

“Thank you for your comfort, Mr. Fu. Perhaps for him, death is the best ending. The doctor said he never woke up, but I feel that with injuries like that, even in a coma, he must have been in extreme pain. I’m fine; we will live on strongly.”

Fu Cheng handed a tissue to the wife, who gave him a grateful but pale smile.

Fu Cheng quietly glanced at a certain lord standing not far away, hands in pockets, pretending to look at the scenery. Thinking to himself that “Zhuo Huan seems quite bad at communicating with people,” Fu Cheng looked at the wife and said softly: “Please accept my condolences; he will surely rest in peace in heaven. Regarding Lorraine, I still have some things I want to ask you. You told me about your family situation earlier; I want to know if Lorraine had any other part-time jobs besides this job at Martha Airlines.”

“No.”

Fu Cheng frowned: “Not even one?”

Wife: “Yes. The job at Martha already made him tired enough; every time he came home, he fell asleep immediately. Leon simply couldn’t do other part-time jobs. Although family expenses are high, since he was promoted to captain, our financial pressure has been much less. Martha’s salary is enough for us to meet financial needs.”

Fu Cheng nodded thoughtfully. Suddenly, a voice crying sounded from behind.

“Uncle…”

Fu Cheng and the captain’s wife turned their heads together, only to see a little girl in a red dress accidentally bumping into Zhuo Huan’s leg. Zhuo Huan’s body stiffened instantly; he slowly lowered his head to look at the red-eyed girl.

Seeing this, the captain’s wife hurriedly ran over to pick up her daughter. Due to crying all night, her voice was terribly hoarse: “Quickly say sorry to Uncle.”

The girl hiccuped and threw herself into her mother’s arms.

Fu Cheng walked over to smooth things over: “It’s fine, it’s our fault. Did it hurt? This uncle’s legs are very hard.”

Zhuo Huan raised an eyebrow and glanced at him.

Listening to Fu Cheng’s words, the captain’s wife showed a rare smile. The girl also turned her head and looked at them curiously.

Fu Cheng opened his mouth to speak again, but a slender hand stretched out in front of him. The slightly protruding wrist bones reflected clear light under the sun. In the palm lay a fruit candy wrapped in colorful cellophane.

Fu Cheng paused, turned his head, and looked at that man.

Ten minutes later, EASA investigators and doctors called the mother and daughter away. They needed the wife to sign the consent form to autopsy Captain Leon Lorraine’s body. Although it was just a procedural formality—even if she disagreed, they would forcibly autopsy—they still had to go through the motions.

Of course, the wife never thought of refusing. She also wanted to know the truth of the air crash.

However, on the other side, Co-pilot Gerard Truffaut’s autopsy consent form became a difficult problem.

The EASA investigator persuaded anxiously: “Madam, according to the ‘International Aviation Law,’ for unexpected and unknown air crash accidents, the investigation team has the right to autopsy the pilot’s body after the accident. Please sign the consent form.”

“I know what you want to say.” Madame Truffaut, her face covered in tear stains, choked up, “Gerard never drank excessively before, nor did he take drugs. He was a good boy; I know he wouldn’t do that.”

The investigator said helplessly: “You misunderstood; we are not just checking the alcohol or drug content in his blood. We need to determine if he had a sudden illness.”

“He was in good health, always healthy, without any diseases.”

“I mean sudden diseases, like sudden cardiac arrest, cerebral thrombosis…”

“And then once you find out, will you push all the blame onto him alone!”

The investigator was rendered speechless by the questioning.

He completely didn’t know how to explain. He had seen this lady on the news before; on TV, she was obviously a graceful and dignified noblewoman, so why was she so unreasonable now? If the autopsy really revealed that Co-pilot Gerard had a sudden illness when the crash occurred, then it was very likely he caused the crash. Isn’t this only natural and reasonable?

A pilot who suddenly falls ill is extremely likely to touch precision instruments he shouldn’t touch the moment he collapses, thereby causing the plane crash.

The investigator patiently explained again.

Lina also held Madame Truffaut’s hand: “Auntie Anthea, this is required by law. Don’t you want to know the truth about Gerard’s death, what the real culprit is? Please sign.”

Madame Truffaut held Lina’s hand, tears streaming down her face: “He’s already like that, and you still want to cut him open, let him be coldly scanned by everyone? Lina, you grew up together; Gerard is afraid of pain, you know that. That knife cutting open his stomach, cutting open his heart, how painful that is. I cannot sign the consent form, absolutely not.”

When Fu Cheng and Zhuo Huan arrived, what they heard were Madame Truffaut’s stubborn words of refusal.

No matter how the investigator and Lina persuaded, Madame Truffaut refused the autopsy.

Zhuo Huan signaled the investigator: Forced autopsy.

The investigator hesitated.

Zhuo Huan stepped forward and said indifferently to Madame Truffaut: “This is a legal regulation. Please do not obstruct law enforcement.” After speaking, he looked at the investigator and extended his hand: “I’ll sign.”

Madame Truffaut shouted angrily: “Patrick, are you crazy! How dare you sign my son’s autopsy consent form!”

Zhuo Huan acted as if he hadn’t heard, taking the consent form handed by the investigator.

Madame Truffaut rushed up: “Patrick, you are a lunatic. Your mother was right; you are a freak, you have no feelings at all!”

Fu Cheng was stunned and turned to look at Zhuo Huan.

Zhuo Huan’s movement with the pen paused for an instant, and he turned sideways to avoid Madame Truffaut’s collision.

“No! I don’t agree to the autopsy, I don’t agree!!”

“I agree to the autopsy.”

A low, husky male voice sounded from the end of the corridor. Everyone stopped their movements and turned to look at the newcomer.

Under the dim light of the first basement floor, the long-stagnant air emitted a dull and decaying scent. A white-haired old gentleman in formal attire approached step by step. His clothes were neat, his hair gelled back, revealing majestic and solemn eyes. As if attending a grand and solemn ceremony, he finally stood still at the door of the morgue.

His gaze subconsciously wanted to shift, to look at the person lying on the iron slab bed covered by a white cloth inside the morgue. But the moment his gaze shifted, he stopped the movement with a heart of stone.

Mr. Truffaut looked coldly at Zhuo Huan.

Zhuo Huan quietly met his gaze.

The next moment, he reached out and handed the pen to the other party.

Mr. Louis Truffaut quickly signed his name in the bottom right corner of the autopsy consent form.

Madame Truffaut broke down crying: “No, Louis, why, no!”

Mr. Truffaut glanced at her coldly: “I said, he never had the talent to be a pilot.”

It was October, yet the bright and brilliant sunshine felt like the howling cold wind of severe winter.

A chill that penetrated to the bone marrow.

Louis Truffaut’s arrival exceeded Lina’s expectations, but his arrival had at least one benefit: the grief-stricken Madame Truffaut, accompanied by her husband, gradually stopped drowning in endless sorrow.

Lina finally left the hospital.

As the three walked out of the hospital gate, Lina hesitated: “Reid, you don’t need to mind Auntie Anthea’s words. She was too sad, so she spoke without thinking.”

Zhuo Huan scoffed: “There are plenty of people who don’t like me.”

Lina looked at him in astonishment.

“Truffaut doesn’t even rank.”

Fu Cheng quietly glanced at Zhuo Huan with a calm expression.

Lina laughed out loud: “By the way, how is the investigation going?”

Zhuo Huan roughly explained the investigation progress. Lina nodded and looked at Fu Cheng: “Sorry, Fu. These days I’ve been immersed in my own world and couldn’t help you much. Thank you for helping me comfort Leon Lorraine’s family; actually, that’s my job.”

Fu Cheng shook his head with a smile: “It doesn’t matter. Don’t be too sad; take care of your health.”

Lina: “You are always so thoughtful.”

Zhuo Huan lifted his eyelids and glanced at the “thoughtful” person.

Lina: “I’ve handled the media matters properly; don’t worry. Although I can’t stop the outside world’s attention on this matter—you should have seen it, major media worldwide are paying attention to this—I promise no one will come here to disturb your accident investigation.”

Zhuo Huan: “Thanks, that’s enough.”

Lina nodded, about to ask if Zhuo Huan had any other requests, when suddenly her phone rang. She picked up her phone; someone had sent her a message. Looking at the picture on the screen, Lina’s expression suddenly became astonished. She looked serious: “Reid, Fu, there is something you must know.”

Zhuo Huan and Fu Cheng looked at her together.

The blonde woman pursed her lips tightly and showed them the phone screen.

[Richard: Lina, I found a post on Twitter. I think you should see it. [Image]]

Clicking on the image, it was a young girl’s Twitter.

Her profile picture was a selfie, and her name, like many young people, was a combination of meaningless letters.

At 12:00 noon today, she posted a tweet. Within a few short hours, the number of retweets reached four hundred.

[Aliceeeeeexv: [Selfie] OMGGG! The co-pilot I met on the plane last week is the heir to the Truffaut family! My stomach hurt that day, and I vomited all over the floor on the plane. He cleaned it up for me. He even poured me a cup of hot water and told me to take care of myself. God! The Truffaut son cleaned up vomit for me, poured water for me, and comforted me, yet I can’t even afford a single Truffaut bag! [Depressed emoji]]

Fu Cheng’s pupils shrank, and he looked up quickly: “Passenger plane?! Wasn’t Martha 123 a cargo plane? Why did it become a passenger plane again? The co-pilot cleaning up? What about the flight attendants? Why would a flying co-pilot need to do these things?”

Zhuo Huan’s lips twitched, forming a cold sneer. He took out his phone and made a call.

At this moment, Manchester, UK.

Old Joseph stood at the entrance of Martha Airlines headquarters and answered the phone. Before Zhuo Huan could speak, he smiled bitterly: “Reid, you definitely can’t guess what I discovered when I came to Manchester.”

Zhuo Huan interrupted him: “Is Martha 123 a passenger-cargo combi aircraft?”

Old Joseph asked in surprise: “You already know? Yes. You would never guess that there is such a smart airline in the world that knows how to exploit pilots so well. During the day, Martha 123… no, it’s not called Martha 123; it’s called Martha 380. It is a short-haul passenger plane traveling between Germany, France, and the UK. At night, it transforms… into Martha 123.”

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