“With a bullet meant for Sonny.”
“Wait a minute, who's Sonny?” Agent Arnold looked up from his notebook.
“They’re talking about General Hospital. The soap opera.” Agent Lawson grew agitated.
“Hey, you, it’s Cosmo, right?”
Cosmo nodded.
“We need to talk to Mr. Trbojevic alone, would you excuse us?”
Cosmo mumbled and walked over to the sofa.
The questions continued. “Have you ever met Alex Gaye before that day?’
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know where he is now?”
“No.”
“Do you know how to contact him?”
“No.” Turbo considered telling the agents they were looking for a lunatic, someone who talked to Martians, but he decided not to mention it.
“If Alex Gaye contacts you, make sure you call us right away.” Agent Lawson tossed his card on the counter.
***
Phillip’s Aunt Edna had driven up from Philly to help with the funeral arrangements. Carrie stopped by to check on Phillip.
“Aunt Edna, meet my friend, Carrie.”
“Pleased to meet you, Carrie.”
“Same here, I’m sorry about your loss.”
“Mavis was a good woman. We’re gonna miss her.” Edna cleared her cup and saucer from the table. “Would you care for some coffee, dear?”
“No, thank you.”
“Well, you’ll have to excuse me; I have to get some clothes together for the funeral home.”
Phillip hadn't paid much attention to the small talk until then; suddenly he jumped up from his seat. “Aunt Edna, wait.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Grandma’s dress. She showed me the one she wanted. I'll get it down from the attic.”
“The attic?”
Phillip rushed up to the attic. He opened the trunk and retrieved the dress. He held it up and shook off the dust. When he turned to close the trunk, he saw them. Tesla’s papers. He wanted to scream, but he knew that would startle his aunt. He wanted to call Carrie up to the attic and celebrate, but he didn’t. He simply closed the trunk, and walked downstairs and gave the dress to his aunt.
“It’s beautiful. How come I’ve never seen it before?”
“I’m not sure.” Phillip answered. “You better get going now, I'm sure they close soon.” Phillip nudged his aunt out the door, and watched through the kitchen window until she had gone. Then he grabbed Carrie’s hand and pulled her upstairs to the attic.
“What are you doing, you nearly pulled my arm out of its socket?”
“Wait till you see this.” Phillip opened the trunk. “They were here the whole time.”
Carrie smiled. “I can’t believe we drudged through all that garbage for nothing.”
“We should call Turbo.” Phillip closed the trunk.
“Better yet, let’s go see him. Grab the trunk, I’ll drive.”
***
Heavy traffic on Linden Boulevard slowed their progress. Cars strayed from their lanes and jockeyed for better positions. Pedestrians flooded the sidewalks and crosswalks. Many jaywalked, ignoring the flashing red hand, unafraid of traffic cops. Carrie stayed calm and remained in her lane. She drove at tortoise speeds. With each passing mile, the crowds thinned and traffic sped up. Turbo’s street had no traffic whatsoever. Carrie had no problem finding a place to park. The only other vehicle there had to belong to the man taking pictures outside Turbo's shop.
“Turbo, we’re here.” Phillip called out as they entered the shop, the trunk by his side.
Turbo rushed around the counter. “Hello. Hello. Cosmo, come meet my new friends.”
Cosmo waved from the sofa.
Turbo shook Phillip’s hand and hugged Carrie.
“You’re gonna hug me, too. Once I open this trunk.” Phillip unlatched the clasp.
Curiosity got Cosmo up from the sofa. “Hey, I’m Cosmo.”
Turbo apologized and hurried the introductions. “Phillip, what’s in the trunk?”
Phillip hesitated. He pointed to the portrait. "Is that him?"
Turbo nodded.
“That sumatabitch is here again.” Cosmo stormed outside. The front door swung open, recoiled, and slammed shut. The reattached bell survived the ride and rang violently. They could hear Cosmo cursing outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from here, next time I’m gonna shove that camera up your ass.”
Turbo called Cosmo inside. “What was that all about?”
“That’s the second time I catch him taking pictures of the shop.” Cosmo panted.
“Do you know him?” Carrie asked.
“First I’ve heard about it. Cosmo, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I forgot.”
“Maybe he’s with the government,” Phillip said.
“Nah, I doubt it, besides, they were already here.”
“Yeah, the F.B.I. stopped by yesterday,” Cosmo said.
“The F.B.I. What did they want?” Phillip re-latched the clasp.
“They were asking about one of my customers. I fixed his radio.”
“He wasn’t a real customer.” Cosmo pointed out. “You didn’t charge him anything.”
“Why were they looking for him?” Carrie asked.
“Don’t know, he was just a kid, Twenty-something; he didn’t look like a terrorist or anything.”
“No, but he talks to Martians.” Cosmo went back over to the TV. “You’ll have to excuse me; “All My Children” starts now.”
“They’re after the wrong man,” Turbo said. “Besides, whoever heard of a terrorist named Alex Gaye?”
“Alex Gaye?" Carrie yelped.
“Yeah, do you know him?”
“No, but Rudy does.” Carrie pulled out her cell phone. She scrolled through the twenty-three missed calls from Buddy, still upset with him about the strip club, until she found the call from “Brad Pitt.” Unsure it would work, she pressed send. She didn't expect anyone to answer, but she prayed for his voicemail. Her prayer was answered. She left a message. “Rudy, it's Carrie, please call me right away, we’re at Turbo’s shop and the---
Phillip grabbed the phone before she accelerated to full speed. “Hey, Rudy, its Phillip, please call us right away, it’s important.”
“How does Rudy know Alex Gaye?” Turbo asked.
“I’m not sure,” Phillip said. “But he doesn’t want Alex to know that we know him."
“If Alex ever contacted us,” Carrie added.
“This doesn’t make sense. Why would Alex Gaye contact you?” Turbo scratched his head. “He seemed like such a nice young man.”
The bell on the door rang softly. “He is a nice young man, if you like terrorists.” Rudy entered the shop.
CHAPTER 14
“What are they up to now?”
“Marco just got there.”
“Goddamn it. I always miss the good stuff.”
“If you didn’t drink so much Mountain Dew, you wouldn’t have to piss all the time.”
Agent Lawson sat down and adjusted his headset. “This van stinks, we need a new one.”
“Shhhh. I can't hear.” Agent Arnold adjusted the receiver.
“. . . no, I’m not related to Valentino.”
“Are you sure, because you favor him a little.”
“That Cosmo annoys me.”
“He’s harmless. He thinks Marco is Rudolph Valentino.” Agent Arnold chuckled.
“He may be harmless, but he still bugs me---
“Shut up and listen.”
“Rudy, is Alex Gaye a terrorist?” The voice was undoubtedly Carrie.
“He sure is. The F.B.I. is hot on his trail.”
“They were here yesterday.”
“Doesn’t he ever shut up?”
“Just listen.”
“Were they? Well, they’re cold. Alex went to Miami.”
“How do you know?”
“He called me.
He’s staying at the---
Static.
“Goddamn it, he found the bug. You didn’t hide it very good.”
“I couldn't find a good spot with Cosmo up my ass the whole time.”
“Forget about it. Call Langley and order a trace on Marco’s phone and notify Miami to be on the lookout for Alex.”
***
Turbo was fuming. “I can't believe those bastards bugged my shop.”
Rudy told him to relax. “It’s not safe to talk here, we need to leave.”
“But you just found the bug.” Carrie pointed to the tiny device in Rudy’s hand.
“That’s the C.I.A.’s bug---
“You mean F.B.I., don’t you?” Carrie asked.
“No, I mean C.I.A., but I’m sure Alex has one here, too. Although, it won’t be as easy to find.” He motioned for them to follow him outside.
Cosmo offered the use of his apartment, but Rudy said they should meet somewhere in public.
Phillip suggested the Barnes and Noble.
“No, way too quiet. Why do you think I do business in strip clubs?”
“If you want noisy then go to Tony O’s.” Cosmo suggested.
“Tony O’s?” Rudy had never heard of it.
“Italian restaurant over on Montauk Avenue---they make a mean Scungilli fra Diavolo.”
“Yeah. That place gives me a headache every time I eat there.” Turbo rubbed his temple.
“Great. Meet me there in one hour.” Rudy hopped in his Corvette convertible and peeled out. He stopped halfway down the block, jumped out and banged on the side of a paneled van parked there. Then he jumped back in the Vette and peeled out again.
Carrie asked Turbo if he wanted a ride to the restaurant.
“We’d love one,” Cosmo answered for him.
“Oh, no you don't.” Turbo grabbed Cosmo’s sleeve. “You have to stay here and watch the shop.”
“Why? We haven’t had a customer in forever.”
“What if that photographer comes back? Remember what you told him.”
Cosmo went back inside.
Turbo left with Carrie and Phillip. They hadn't gone far when Phillip shouted. “Stop.” He got out and ran back to the shop. He returned with the trunk. “With all the excitement I almost forgot the trunk.”
“For the last time, what’s inside the damn trunk?” Turbo asked.
“Oh, shit---Aunt Edna.”
“Aunt Edna’s inside the trunk?” Turbo seemed puzzled.
“No, but I forgot all about Aunt Edna, she worries about me.”
“I’ll swing by your house on the way.”
“Thanks.”
“Is anyone gonna tell me what’s inside the trunk.”
“You’re not gonna believe this.” Phillip opened the trunk.
Turbo’s eyes grew big and filled with tears. He stared at the papers, afraid to touch them. “They were at your house the whole time?”
“Yes.”
Turbo sifted through the papers. “I’ve waited for this my entire life.”
“What do you mean?” Carrie asked.
“Proof.” He could tell that Carrie didn’t understand. “Proof that the government stole my uncle’s ideas.”
***
Tony O’s was always crowded. Although, a twenty-dollar-bill would get you a table quick. The Maitre’d apologized for seating them close to the kitchen; they could watch the cooks through the door's porthole window.
“We don’t need menus,” Turbo said.
“You already know what you want?” The Maitre’d asked.
“No, we’re not hungry.”
The Maitre’d frowned. “You won’t be dining with us?”
“Bring us your best champagne.” Rudy reached for his wallet and handed the Maitre’d a Platinum American Express Card.”
The Maitre’d glanced at the card. “Right away, Mr. Hanks.”
“Champagne. What’s the occasion?” The tall neck Chianti bottle on the table blocked Carrie’s view. She moved it aside.
“No occasion, I figured we better buy something if we’re gonna sit here.”
“Good idea.” Phillip nudged the Chianti back to the center. “What did you find out?”
“Well, my contact said the agency divided Tesla’s files into different categories. Declassified files, those already proven or in production went to the Tesla Museum in Belgrade. Some received lower level classifications to allow government agencies and privileged corporations to access them. A few outrageous concepts received level nine classifications, just in case. But only two warranted level ten. Teleforce and Electrostatic Deuterium Oxide.”
Before anyone spoke, the waiter arrived with the champagne. Pop. He filled the glasses. Rudy waited for him to leave. “We're tracking down anybody that worked on either project. They’d be retired by now, or dead.”
“What good are they if they’re dead?” Carrie asked.
“They may have told family members about their work, or better yet, kept a journal or diary.”
“What about Alex Gaye?” Turbo sipped his champagne. “That’s good champagne.”
“Glad you like it. Alex Gaye isn’t a terrorist. He’s a Communist. I fabricated the terrorist stuff to throw off Lawson and Arnold.”
“The F.B.I. agents?” Carrie asked.
“They’re not F.B.I. They’re C.I.A.”
“But they said they were F.B.I. They had F.B.I. badges.” Carrie sipped her champagne.
“How many F.B.I. badges do you want? I'll get them for you, and C.I.A., and K.G.B. for that matter. Believe me, those guys are C.I.A.”
Turbo scratched his head. “I don't understand, maybe I'm stupid. I fixed this guy’s radio over a week ago, before I ever met any of you.” He sipped his champagne.
“Yeah, so why did you think Alex would contact us?” Phillip asked.
“Let me explain.” Rudy took a big sip of champagne. “Turbo, you’re right, that's good champagne.” He took another sip, threw the glass against the kitchen door, and bolted out through the emergency exit.
CHAPTER 15
Mavis Washington’s Memorial Service was lovely. Phillip eulogized his grandmother. He spoke eloquently, shared tender moments from his childhood and some as recent as the day they cleaned the attic together. He talked about the pink tricycle his grandmother saved all those years, and the goals she held for him. He asked for their prayers that he might achieve those goals. And in closing, he took comfort in the belief that his grandmother was in heaven with her husband and daughter. “I hope I’ll be worthy to join them someday.”
Aunt Edna bawled.
Carrie and Turbo smiled from the back row of the church.
“It was a beautiful service.” Carrie gave him a hug. As she looked over his shoulder, she noticed two men in black suits standing against the wall. Many of the men there wore black suits; but these two were noticeably out of place. They wore white sneakers. Carrie didn’t want to bring up any new conspiracy theories there at the funeral, so she let it go. And Phillip, too.
“You did a great job with the eulogy.” Turbo added.
“Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it.”
“I only wish I had gotten the chance to thank her.” Turbo said.
Aunt Edna came up from behind them. “Now Phillip, there’s plenty of food over in the hall and make sure your friends try some of my world famous potato salad”
“I’d love to, Aunt Edna.” Turbo hooked her arm. “I’m with you, show me the way to the potato salad.”
Phillip hooked Carrie’s arm and they followed behind. “Have you heard from Rudy?” He asked.
“No, his number is disconnected again.”
“That doesn’t surprise me; we may have to make another trip to DC.”
“We better save Turbo from your Aunt Edna first.”
After the funeral, they decided to go over to Carrie’s apartment for a while to plan their next move. The message indicator on Carrie’s answering machine flashed the number 14. “M
ake yourself at home, I better check these messages.”
Turbo and Phillip sat on the sofa.
Beep. “Carrie, it’s me, call me.”
Beep. “Carrie, it’s me again, I’ll try your cell.”
Beep. “Hey babe, I can’t reach you on your cell, you must be back in the stockroom, call me back.”
Beep. “Carrie, I called your work and they said you called in sick, hope you’re okay, call me back.”
Beep. “Did I do something wrong, call me back, I hope you’re okay.”
Beep. “Damn it, Carrie, call me back.”
“I think Buddy’s pissed off.” Phillip nudged Turbo and smiled.
“Very funny.” Carrie pressed the button to hear the next message.
Beep. “Carrie, this is childish, please call me back.”
Beep. “Why won’t you answer your cell phone?”
Beep. “This is ridiculous.”
Beep. “Carrie, please call me, at least let me know you’re okay.”
“You should really call him back.” Turbo said.
“I will, if I ever get through all these messages.”
Beep. “It’s me again, hope you’re okay, call me.”
Beep. “Carrie, I can’t believe you’re so childish. Fucking call me.”
“Yep, he’s pissed.” Phillip elbowed Turbo again.
Beep. “I guess Rudy told you about Melissa. It was a one-time fling, I swear, but you obviously don’t want to talk about it. I won’t call you anymore.”
A long silence engulfed the room. Carrie stood frozen, her finger still on the machine.
Turbo broke the silence. “He probably just said that so you call him back.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he has an explanation.” Phillip walked over and pulled her arm away from the answering machine. “Come sit down for a minute.”
Carrie sat on the sofa, but didn’t speak.
“It’ll be okay.” Turbo said. He thought about Maria.
“Hey look, there’s one message left.” Phillip reached for the button.
“Don’t push that button.” Carrie jumped up from the sofa. “I don’t want to hear anything else that son-of-a-bitch has to say.”
Phillip pulled away from the machine. “What if it’s important?”
She hesitated. “Fine, do it.”
Phillip pressed the button.
Beep. “Carrie, it’s Rudy. Sorry about the restaurant, but I had to get out of there. I’ll explain when I see you. I can’t call your cell because I’m sure they have it tapped by now. When you get this message meet me at Aquaduct Racetrack, I’ll be in one of the personal handicapping stations on the second floor of the clubhouse. I’ll wait until the last race is over, then I’m hopping a flight at JFK. I have to get out of the country for a while. Make sure Turbo and Phillip come with you and don’t tell anyone else where you’re going, not even Cosmo.”
Alternating Current: A Tesla Novel Page 7