I watched through the office window while a Cessna 172 was taxied onto The Flying Circus ramp and shut down. The pilot jumped out and marched smartly toward the office. He was a lean, middle-aged man. I had seen the airplane before at the airport but I didn't know the pilot. Henry was standing next to the door when he burst in.
"George Heinkle here," the pilot announced, thrusting his hand at Henry. "Are you one of the owners?"
"Good morning. I'm Henry Rains," Henry said, accepting the handshake, "one of the owners. This is my partner."
Henry gestured in my direction.
Heinkle turned, crossed the room in three great strides, grabbed my hand and shook it with two crisp pumps.
"George Heinkle," he said. He spoke with a slight German accent.
"Pleased to meet you," I replied.
"This is our office manager, Leanne Rains," Henry said, indicating Leanne behind the flight desk.
Heinkle stepped in that direction and gave Leanne the same snappy handshake.
"A pleasure, Mrs. Rains," he said.
"Call me Leanne," she replied.
Heinkle clicked his heels and nodded in reply. He then turned toward Henry and me.
Illustration by Francois Bogie
"I own the Cessna 172," he said. He spoke in quick, clipped sentences.
"You need an airplane vith the ving on top for sightseeing flights. I lease you mine. It vill carry four people. You do sightseeing, aerial photography, pipeline patrol and charter."
He didn't wait for a reply.
"I lease it to you dry at $25 per hour, no minimum. Payments, you make every month vithin 30 days," Heinkle said. "I pay the first inspection by your mechanic, then you take care of everything except the engine overhaul and paint. Do ve have a deal?"
The guy was too pushy for my taste. The school was getting busy enough for another airplane and the man was right about the extra capabilities that a high-wing Cessna would give our operation. Leanne had recently announced that the interest on our hangar loan, which floated with the prime rate, had gone up a full percentage point. That would make it tougher to borrow more money to buy another airplane. Heinkle's offer was better than we were paying to lease our older Cherokees but I was not the kind of guy who could make a deal in thirty seconds.
"Would you like a coffee, Mr. Heinkle?" Henry asked.
"No, thank you," he replied. "You call me George. I take you out to see the airplane."
He turned on his heels, opened the door and gave a slight nod. Henry and I looked at each other.
"After you," I said and bowed my head like Heinkle.
When we had cleared the door, the aircraft owner was already half way to the airplane. The Cessna was not new but it was clean inside and out. The paint had been touched up and the interior upholstery had been replaced. It was an amateur job but the fabric was new. The registration on the tail was C-LUFT. Heinkle was a good salesman. He stood back and said nothing.
"Would you fly the airplane during the lease?" Henry asked.
"No. I'm in construction and too busy for the next six months. If you fly it a lot, I'll buy another vun in the fall. If not, I take it back."
It seemed like a good offer. Heinkle had covered all the bases. We either wanted to lease the airplane or not. Henry looked at me. I nodded.
"Very good, George," Henry said extending his hand. "We'll lease it for six months. I'll arrange the insurance, the inspection and I'll draft an agreement. I'll call you when we're ready for the airplane."
George shook his hand.
"No need to call," he said.
He reached into the airplane and pulled out the logbooks.
"I'll sign the registration now and leave you the airplane. The handshake was our agreement. Send me the bill for the inspection."
He handed Henry a business card. He shook my hand, turned and marched across the ramp toward the flying club parking lot. The whole episode had taken less than five minutes and we had ourselves another airplane with the "ving on top".
