Alternating Current: A Tesla Novel (13 page)

Turbo arrived at
the shop late the next morning. Cosmo had parked his new car out front. Turbo
went over to the window and pulled the chain on the open sign. Cosmo was
already on the couch. Turbo walked in front of him, but didn’t say a word. He
went behind the counter and pretended to work on something. The phone rang, but
he didn’t answer it.

“Turbo, get the
phone.” Cosmo yelled.

Turbo kept
working. The phone kept ringing.

“Turbo, the
phone---ah shit.” Cosmo answered it. “Hello.”

“Hey Turbo,”
said
the voice at the other end of the line.

“No, this is
Cosmo.”

“Oh, hey Cosmo,
it’s Carrie. Is Turbo there?”

“Yeah, but I don’t
know if he’s gonna come to the phone.”

“Tell him it’s
important.”

“Okay.” Cosmo
stretched the receiver’s cord to the other end of the counter and handed it to
Turbo. “It’s that girl, Carrie.”

Turbo grabbed the
receiver. “Carrie, how are you?”

“I’m good, how
are you?”

“I’m okay; did you
see what happened to Rudy?”

“Yes, it was
terrible.”

“I know, is
Phillip okay?”

“Yes, he’s just
been through a lot with his grandmother and then Rudy.”

“Yeah, it’s been
tough on everyone.

“Turbo, I
really feel bad about asking you this, but could you come over to my apartment
right away. I really need to talk to you,”

“Okay, I’ll be
there as soon as I can.”

“Please hurry.”

Turbo walked to
the end of the counter and hung up the phone. “Cosmo, I need to borrow your
car.”

Cosmo didn’t
answer.

“Cosmo, I’m not
kidding, I need to borrow your car.”

Cosmo handed him a
square fob.

“How do you work
this thing---where’s the key.”

“You don’t need a
key. Put that in your pocket and the door will unlock automatically.”

“You’re full of
shit, gimme the key.” Turbo grew agitated.

“I’m not kidding. And
when you get in, push the start button and the engine will start up.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yes, I’m serious;
it’s done with radio waves.”

“Oh, that’s one
more thing they stole from my uncle.”

***

Turbo knocked on
the door of Carrie’s apartment. “Carrie, are you there?”

Carrie opened the
door and gave Turbo a big hug.

While still in her
embrace, he saw Agents Lawson and Arnold sitting at the table. “What are they
doing here?”

“They want to talk
to us about Rudy. They know we were with him at Aquaduct. They saw us on the
security camera footage.”

“Mr. Trbojo---hell,
is it okay if we call you Turbo.”

Turbo nodded.

“Turbo, I’m Agent
Lawson and this is my partner Agent Arnold. We’re with the FBI.

“No you’re not;
Rudy told us you’re CIA.”

“I don’t care
what Marco told you, we’re FBI.”

“Marco? Who the
hell is Marco?”

“Marco is Rudy,”
Carrie said. “His real name is Marco Fagan.”

“He told me his
name was Rudy, and that’s good enough for me.”

“His name doesn’t
matter.” Agent Arnold was perturbed. “We need to know what you talked about at
Aquaduct.”

Turbo glanced at
Carrie. Had she told them anything? Regardless, he wasn’t about to tell them
squat. “Well, you see he really liked
Vickie’s Revenge
in the last race,
but I told him he was crazy,
Up Early
placed in her last start and was
due for a win. Besides,
Vickie’s Revenge
was a 19 to 1 long shot. He
wasn’t that crazy after all, because
Vickie’s Revenge
won the race.”

“That’s all well
and good, but we need to know what Marco---I mean Rudy---told you about The
Bahamas and Doctor Armaly.” Arnold pulled out a pad from his pocket to take
notes.

Again, Turbo
glanced over at Carrie. “We didn’t talk about The Bahamas or any doctor. Why,
is Rudy sick?”

“Okay, we don’t
have time for this.” Agent Lawson rose from his chair and got right in Turbo’s
face. “No, Turbo, Rudy isn’t sick. Rudy is dead---you know he’s dead. And since
you and the other two Musketeers were the last ones to see him alive, you’re going
to give us some answers. Otherwise, you and Ms. Carrie here are going downtown,
and don’t worry, little Freddie Washington will be joining you, too.”
“Phillip.”

“Phillip? What are
you talking about?”

“His name is
Phillip. Little Freddie Washington’s name is Phillip.”

Disgusted, Lawson
turned to his partner. “You gonna help me here?”

Agent Arnold took
a softer approach. “Listen, Turbo, nobody has to go downtown. I know Rudy’s
death was a shock. It was to us. He was our friend. And I know you’re probably
scared. But we really need your help. Whoever killed Rudy needs to be brought
to justice.”

Arnold’s last
remark made Turbo laugh. “Justice. You don’t care about justice, and we all
know who killed Rudy. It’s a shame that you chumps can’t track him down.”

“Did he just call
us chumps?” Agent Lawson was back in Turbo’s face. “That’s it, grease ball,
you’re going downtown.” Lawson lifted him up by the arm.

“No, wait.” Carrie
finally spoke. “Turbo, maybe they can help us, now that Rudy’s gone someone has
to.”

“Rudy didn’t trust
them.”

“Yes, but Rudy
didn’t trust anyone.”

Carrie had a
point. Rudy was their only hope and he was dead. Turbo pulled away from
Lawson’s grasp and sat back down. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Why was Rudy
going to The Bahamas?”

“He was going to
meet that Doctor; he told Rudy he had some information for him about
Teleforce.”

“You know about
Teleforce?” Arnold asked.

“My uncle invented
it.”

“Did he say
anything about a special kind of water?”

Turbo was silent.

“You know about
the water?” Carrie asked.

“Yes, Doctor
Armaly worked on the formula for years.”

“Formula? What
formula? What the hell is it.?” Turbo waited for an answer.

Agent Arnold
hesitated. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them.”

Lawson shrugged
his shoulders. “It’s your call partner. They’re in pretty deep already.”

Arnold continued. “Well,
it seems that your uncle invented a way to make water combustible.”

“Combustible? You
mean like gasoline?”

“That’s exactly
what we mean.”

Turbo began
laughing uncontrollably.

Carrie smiled,
still unsure why he was so giddy. “Turbo, are you okay?”

He continued
laughing.

Arnold and Lawson
had dumfounded looks on their faces.

“Turbo, what’s so
funny?” Carrie asked.

He took a few deep
breaths, calmed down and gave Carrie a big hug. “We need to call Phillip, right
away. “ Tell him I know what it is?”

Carrie grabbed her
cell phone. “What
what
is? What are you talking about?”

“Electrostatic Deuterium
Oxide---The end of tyranny!”

Carrie’s attempts
to reach Phillip by cell phone went unanswered. Nonetheless, Turbo was still
grinning and carrying on about the news.

“Don’t get too
excited, Doctor Armaly never perfected the formula.” Lawson said.

“That’s okay,”
Carrie pushed the redial button. “Phillip has the form---

“Maybe we should
just go over to his house.” Turbo glared at Carrie.

“That’s not a bad
idea. I’ll drive.” Lawson pulled a set of keys from his pocket.

They piled into
the black, government issued, Escalade parked out front. Turbo and Carrie sat
in the backseat, he whispered to Carrie not to mention anything about Tesla’s
papers.

“It’s not polite
to whisper,” Agent Lawson said.

“Oh, I was just
asking Carrie if you knew where to go. Phillip lives over on---

“I know where he
lives.” Lawson made a hard right turn. “Sorry, I almost missed the turn.”

Lawson brought the
subject back to the Tesla Water. “That would be something if your uncle really
invented a car that ran on water.”

“Yeah, that would
have been great, but he did one better. He invented water that could be used
instead of gasoline to run any car.”

“Wow, it’s too bad
it didn’t work.”

Turbo just smiled.
“Yeah, too bad.”

A small wreath hung
on the front door of Phillip’s house. His Aunt Edna hung it there before she
went back to Philly. Lawson tapped on the door above the wreath.

“Maybe he’s
asleep.” Carrie said.

Lawson knocked
harder.

“He could be out
of town.” Turbo suggested.

Lawson turned the
doorknob. It was unlocked. “Phillip Washington,” he called out as he gently
pushed on the door. “Agent Lawson, FBI.” Once Lawson had peeked through the
doorway, he pushed the door wide open. Someone had ransacked the house.

“Oh my God.” Carrie
gasped.

Lawson put a
finger up to her mouth. Then pulled his revolver from its holster. “Arnold, get
them out of here while I check it out.”

They retreated to
the Escalade.

A few minutes
later, Agent Lawson gave the all clear.

“Somebody really
did a job on this place.” Lawson returned his gun to the holster.

“Who would do this
to poor Phillip?” Carrie was upset.

“Probably some of
their CIA buddies,” Turbo said.

“No, this wasn’t done
by the CIA, or by the FBI.” Lawson was adamant.

“How do you know?”
Carrie asked.

“These guys were
amateur.”

“Amateur?” Turbo
raised his tone slightly. “Look at this place---it looks like they did a pretty
good job destroying everything.”

“That’s how I know
they were amateur.” Lawson walked over to the sofa. “See how they cut open all
the seat cushions and spewed foam everywhere?”

Turbo nodded.

“Well, that’s too
much work and way too messy. The CIA and FBI have portable scanners to find
things in seat cushions or mattresses, or in frozen food for that matter.”

Carrie was
impressed for a second or two, and then worry came over her. “Oh my God, what
about Phillip?”

Arnold offered
hope. “Hopefully, he wasn’t at home when they arrived.”

“That’s wishful
thinking.” Unfortunately, Lawson was a realist. “Yeah, but if he was home they
probably have him.” He reached for his cell phone. “I’ll call the crime lab,
and put out an APB on Washington.”

Arnold suggested
Carrie and Turbo wait in the Escalade.

“I’ll be there in
a minute.” Turbo said, obviously looking for something.

“Turbo be careful,
this is a crime scene. Don’t touch anything.”

The flight
attendant asked Alex to wake up his wife; they would be landing soon.

Alex gave her a
gentle nudge, but Mika didn’t respond. Was she even asleep? Alex thought she
could have been pretending the entire flight to avoid talking to him. He nudged
her again, much harder the second time.

Mika jumped. “What’s
wrong?”

“We’re about to
land.”

“Did I sleep the whole
way here?”

“Yep.” After
waiting so long to talk to her, suddenly Alex wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“I’m gonna use the
lavatory to freshen up.”

Her bag was stowed
under the seat in front of her. Alex used the opportunity to rummage through
it. He didn’t notice anything unusual among the typical makeup and lipsticks.

“Could you hand me
that one.”

Alex didn’t look
up. He handed her the tube of lipstick in his hand. “Don’t you have any
tissue---I’ve never seen a woman’s purse without tissue before.”

“Oh, so looking
through women’s purses is a hobby of yours?”

“I have allergies.
I need a tissue.”

Mika went back into
the lavatory. A few minutes later, she returned with fresh made lips, and a
handful of tissue.

“Thanks, but I
already used my sleeve.”

“Gross!”

“I’m just
kidding.” Alex folded the tissue and placed it in his pocket.

The flight
attendant instructed them to fasten their seat belts and return their seatbacks
to the upright position. A few minutes later, they were on the ground.

Alex got an even
better look at the contents of Mika’s purse when the Customs Agent searched it.
He felt foolish for going through it earlier.

Mika was excited
to be in New York. “I haven’t been here since I was a teenager.”

Alex flagged down
a taxi. One stopped at once. “See, that’s how it’s done in America.”

“Where to, folks?”
The cab driver removed the earphones from his ears.

“Brooklyn.”

The driver waited
for more. “Brooklyn’s a pretty big place---you got an address?”

“No, I’ll tell you
where to go when we get closer.”

“Hey, it’s your
money.” The driver put his earphones back in and then sped off.

Alex couldn’t
believe his luck. His experience with taxi drivers was that they usually wanted
to talk your ear off, either telling you their life story or prying into yours.
Their driver was simply content to listen to his music, oblivious to who, or
what he was carrying in the back seat. Would he care that he was carting around
a killer? Regardless, it was the perfect opportunity to hear what the killer
had to say.

“Okay Mika, you
said you would tell me everything. Go ahead.”

“Here? In the
taxi?”

“He can’t hear
us.”

Mika looked
closely at the driver. As far as she could see, the earphones were fully
inserted in his ears. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Why don’t you
start by telling me who you work for?”

“I don’t work for
anyone, I work for Sava.”

“So all that stuff
about disobeying orders to kill him was a lie.”

“No, that’s all
true. I used to work for the SDB, but they cut me loose years ago. I guess they
grew tired of all Sava’s theories. Theories he couldn’t prove.”

“So, they just let
you go, gave you walking papers?”

“Sort of. There
were a few conditions.”

“Like what?”

“I had to keep
Sava out of their hair.”

“That’s it?”

Mika nodded.

“They’re a lot
nicer than the KGB.”

Mika explained
that it was a different time. Sava was a staunch old world communist who
distrusted everyone, everyone but his granddaughter. “He was devastated the day
I told him the real Mika died in the blast with her mother.” Tears filled her
eyes.

Alex retrieved the
tissue from his pocket.

“It was a couple
of years before he trusted me again. That’s when he divulged his plan.”

“His plan? What
plan?”

“He told me about his
struggle with the American Government over his uncle’s papers. The important
ones. The Yugoslavian Government wasn’t interested in his theories at all. Although,
they were instrumental in Sava’s fight to have Tesla’s ashes and belongings
returned to Yugoslavia. They cared about the Tesla Museum. Proud that the
greatest inventor of all time was a Yugoslav National. Sava knew there were
many great concepts among the papers the American’s seized. He joined the communist
party with the hope of bringing his uncle’s concepts to life.”

“Yeah, but that
was years ago.” Alex grew impatient.

“I just want you
know that he spent his whole life trying to vindicate his uncle’s work. He
spent years going over papers that the Americans had altered, deleted
information from, or misfiled. Many so badly they were beyond recognition.”

“Wow, I had no
idea. I just thought he was a Bolshevik like the rest.”

“No, he was passionate.
He once told me that the happiest day of his life was in 1943 when the United States
Supreme Court ruled Tesla was the actual inventor of the Radio.”

“Okay, but what
about his plan?”

“Over the years,
plenty of idealists looking to get rich quick tried to get Sava to reveal some
of Tesla’s secrets. They’d bring good money from emerging revolutionaries on
the black market. Anyway, Sava grew old and tired of his cause. He told me what
to do if anyone else came inquiring of his uncle’s work.”

“He told you to
kill him?”

“Yes, he made me
promise.”

“That’s why you
killed him?”

“I promised.”

Alex turned away. He
didn’t notice that they hadn’t moved in a while until then. Traffic was at a
standstill. “That’s it? That was his plan?”

“Not all of it. He
made me promise to kill Doctor Armaly, too.”