She reached into her bra, pulled out a small prescription bottle and handed it to him. “His sperm,” she said.
Emily, Nate, Sven and Obadiah were all crowded around the coffee table in James’s office. Sven, as usual, was devouring all the cookies. Trish had requested a conference call with the entire team. James connected and turned his screen so that they could all see.
“Good morning to you all,” Trish said with a genuine smile. Uri was sitting next to her and waved a greeting.
They responded in unison.
“Sven,” Trish said. “How’s your girl?”
“Great,” Sven said. “Thanks for asking. She and Yvonne’s twins have really hit it off. Yvonne is with all three of them at James’s home.”
“We have Kubacki’s formulas all figured out,” Trish said. “Well, Uri mostly. It seems the mad rush to get that lodestone to our labs was unnecessary.”
“Still,” James said. “That was remarkably quick work by Kovak.”
“All because Emily had an idea,” Trish said. “Emily, how are you?”
“Great, thanks. It’s good to see you again.”
“So, the internal structure of the lodestone was indeed modified by those Tesla coils,” Trish explained. “Not continuous magnetic interference, mind you, but carefully timed pulses at specific strengths to influence and align the molecules to form a perfect, but adaptable magnet. Careful manipulation of the atomic structure enables the stone to be attracted to, or repelled by its immediate surroundings, but remains unaffected by anything else. Kubacki’s car can be controlled by simple molecular realignment of the lodestone from which its base is constructed.”
“What?” Nathan said, looking at Sven. The SkyTech team wasn’t sure they understood any of that.
“Like those repelling magnetic playthings. But in this case, the Earth is the one magnet, and Kubacki’s floating car the other,” Obadiah said.
They all looked at Obadiah.
“Precisely,” Uri said in the background. Kubacki’s biggest challenge, however, seems to have been carving the stones into shapes applicable to where they’d be positioned on his car.”
“Much like the heat-resistant tiles at the bottom of the retired space shuttles,” James said.
“Yes,” Trish said. “Here, look at this.”
A video popped up on the bottom-right of James’s screen. It showed a technician at the controls of the hovering car.
“So, it works,” Nathan said, with excitement.
“Only in a controlled environment,” Trish answered. “We’ve been able to create an immensely small, but strong magnetic field under the car. Our electrical bill is going to be massive.”
“On top of what the NSA will be receiving from SkyTech,” James added. “Listen, Trish, I can probably cut that down for you.”
“Why bother,” she said. “You honestly think our government cares how much money it spends?”
“So, Kubacki’s concept is not a threat to the economy after all,” Emily said.
“No more threatening than the electricity produced by the solar or wind farms scattered across the country,” Trish said. “We can safely leave this technology in the hands of the science fiction writers. Here’s something else that’s interesting. According to the formulas, in twenty-eight years a tiny area in Uganda will have a magnetic spike.”
“It would be interesting to see how accurate that turns out,” Sven said, between mouthfuls.
“Oh, and we’ve located Kubacki as well,” Trish said, looking a little despondent.
“You did?” Emily said, astonished.
“Yes,” Trish said. “It takes a while for fingerprints to work their way through the system. He’s at the mortuary in Henderson.”
“Damn shame,” Nathan said. “He would have been interesting to talk to.”
“You wouldn’t have gained much,” Trish said. “He was a very guarded and secretive individual.”
James smiled. “Didn’t SkyTech already have someone like that to deal with not so long ago?”
Trish smiled back and dropped her eyes slightly. “Okay, okay, point taken.” She recalled just how cagey she herself was when this entire fiasco started.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Frank Harris couldn’t believe this stroke of luck. Not only had the young prostitute given him a sperm sample, she was also willing to testify in court. Frank had no illusions that this sample would match the DNA of the dead victims as well as Joseph Müller’s contribution to the sperm bank.
The young hooker told Frank where he could find her, and if she was busy with a client, just ask one of the other girls to pass on a message. They apparently all knew her as Tavi. She got up to leave and Frank thanked her profusely, saying that he’d be in touch as soon as possible.
Walking through the charge office a few hours later, Frank was once again interrupted by the clerk.
“Detective?”
“Yes, sergeant?”
“Those two men over there would like to speak to you,” the clerk said, pointing to an open area where they were standing. They looked extremely nervous.
Frank raised his hand in a follow-me gesture and had them sit down at his desk. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
“This is my brother, Manuel,” one of the men said. “He doesn’t speak English very well and asked if I could translate.”
Manuel spoke excitedly to his brother in Spanish for over five minutes, occasionally glancing over at Frank.
“My brother said that the man who was arrested for the murder of those ladies is the wrong one.”
Frank’s jaw dropped. He reached for his pen and paper. “Please, go on.”
“Manuel says that he didn’t know old Mr. Müller very well, but it wasn’t him.”
“What’s your brother’s association with Mr. Müller?” Frank asked. “I presume he’s referring to J. Levin Müller.”
“Yes. The politician,” the brother replied. “Manuel was their gardener many years ago. Mr. Müller, when he came home from Washington on occasion, would greet Manuel by name. He was always very polite. It was the son who drowned Mrs. Müller.”
“You mean Joseph?”
“Yes,” the brother confirmed. “Joseph. Mr. and Mrs. Müller’s son. Manuel would sometimes see Mrs. Müller in the swimming pool with no clothes.” He dropped his eyes slightly. “I’m sure you understand that…”
“No, that’s okay,” Frank replied, with a subtle smile. “I understand. Please, go on.”
“He saw what the son did to his mother.”
“Why didn’t Manuel go directly to the police?” Frank asked.
“He was an illegal immigrant at that time and was too frightened to get involved.”
Frank understood the situation only too well; Mexicans crossing into America hoping for a better life, just to be persecuted by the authorities. They weren’t criminals, just ordinary people trying to survive. If anything, the authorities should be hounding the drug lords that crossed the border, but with dealers, the corrupt drug enforcement agencies conveniently turned a blind eye.
The brother went on to describe from Manuel’s point of view what Joseph had done to Candice Müller. There was entirely too much graphic detail for Frank’s liking. Having written everything down, he asked the same question that he’d asked Tavi, the young hooker. Was Manuel willing to testify in court?
The brother looked at Manuel and translated. Manuel immediately rattled off a few more sentences. He appeared to be extremely angry.
“Manuel says that he will go to court and testify. He will also tell them how badly the son treated everyone in the household,” Manuel’s brother said. “He was a horrible cruel boy who always got everyone into trouble. He had many domestics fired, and they did nothing wrong.”