The Tesla Legacy

Chapter 19

Ash was sitting in his limousine on the way to Rosa and Mariella’s apartment when he got a text: subject did not enter clock. took a train. bailed out in the tunnels.

He tightened his lips. Joe had known he was being followed, and he still had the automaton. Quantum had failed. Maybe he should see if Geezer might be more useful.

The bright lights of the city on the other side of his rain-streaked windows promised warmth and food and fun, but he chose to stay in the luxurious privacy of the car. He logged into the dark chat room where he sometimes met Geezer.

He was taken aback. Geezer was usually tentative, wanting approval and recognition. He just wanted to run with the big dogs.

How could Geezer know that? He must be tracking Tesla, too, but how would he make that connection?

Ash had been unable to track Tesla online, so he’d hacked his mother’s email. She’d sent her son a note saying she was running late, and he should order oysters without her. Ash guessed, correctly, that the most likely place for them to meet in Grand Central Terminal was the Oyster Bar.

Since it had two exits, he’d sent Quantum to wait by the clock on the theory that Joe would use that entrance to return home. But how could Geezer know any of that? Had he been in Grand Central and seen Quantum attack Joe?

Ash stared at the screen for a second. How did Geezer know what he did and didn’t have? He wondered what Geezer meant by going public.

A lie, but Geezer couldn’t know that.

Ash didn’t like the sound of that. Geezer seemed to know more than he should.

Ash left the chat room before Geezer had a chance to say anything else. Ash stared at his own initials on the screen: Alan Wright, AW. Geezer knew who he was. That could not stand.

Rain ran down his window, turning the car into a lonely pod. A quick glance told him that the glass partition was up. He usually left it that way. The chauffeur didn’t need to know all his business, especially not tonight.

Ash made a call on his secure phone, one he’d hoped he’d never have to make, but Geezer had brought this on himself. He entered Geezer’s real name, his address and the number zero. The man on the other end would eliminate Geezer, and it would look like an accident. An extreme measure, but he couldn’t let his connection to Spooky become public knowledge.

The car was stuck in traffic, barely inching along. If he didn’t mind getting wet, he could walk faster. But he did mind getting wet, so he stayed put.

With a few quick movements he brought up the tracking app on his phone. The tag was working. A strong green dot dashed forward a few meters, then back again. The app said it was in the concourse of Grand Central, but the dog was probably a hundred feet below playing fetch. How pathetic — Joe Tesla, multimillionaire, was playing fetch with a dog in a tunnel.

Maybe he’d join the Vanderbilt Tennis and Fitness Club at Grand Central and invite Joe to a friendly game. They could go out for a juice after, talk about things. Joe hadn’t been secretive about the automaton — he trusted Ash.

Ash intended to keep it that way.

His driver stopped in front of the 72nd Street entrance to The Dakota. The old stone building looked grand in the fading light. Because Ash loved it, Rosa had taken it in the divorce. She’d had other options, of course, but had taken his favorite apartment as a matter of course.

“Give me an hour,” Ash said. Mariella fell asleep early.

The doorman nodded to him as he hurried by on his way to the elevator. He was watching the numbers flicker by when he got another text, this one on his non-secure phone, from Rosa.

He sighed. The simplest thing to do would be to take the elevator right back down to his car, but he never did the simplest thing.

A minute later he stood in front of Rosa as she lounged on the sofa. The housekeeper who had seen him in mumbled an excuse and backed away, clearly not wanting to be part of whatever came next.

“Were you in the elevator when I texted?” Rosa tucked her waist-length hair behind her shoulder.

“Based on the timing, you knew that before you texted.”

“Mariella is asleep,” Rosa said. “Surely you don’t wish to wake her.”

He very much wished to wake her, so that he could at least say good night, but Mariella was a poor sleeper and might be awake for hours if he did. He couldn’t let her suffer — something else that Rosa knew.

“She’s been unavailable for the last three visits,” he said.

“A cold, a meeting with her therapist. I told you the reasons.” Rosa’s brown eyes opened wide and guileless. That look had gotten her full custody from the male judge. He couldn’t blame him. It had gotten her a lot more out of Ash.

“You did.” He’d logged each missed meeting with his lawyer, in the hopes that he might be able to use them as evidence that Rosa was deliberately keeping him from his daughter, but it would be a hard sell. Colds, therapy, early bedtime — those were all reasonable excuses, even if they did pile up. “But if I go a month without seeing her, she barely seems to recognize me.”

“There’s nothing I can do about that.” Rosa set her book down on the green velvet and crossed her arms. “Maybe you shouldn’t skip visits.”

The last visit he’d missed was six months before. Like him, she’d probably logged it. “No matter how busy I am, I almost always keep to my scheduled visits.”

“Such a busy man you are.” Her eyes narrowed. “Cleaning up the whole wide world.”

“I’m trying to protect other children, so they don’t end up damaged like Mariella.” He was going to make the world a better place for his daughter. Even if she would never know or understand it.

“She is not damaged!” Rosa lowered her voice. “She is who she is. She’s not some kind of rifle sight — something you can use to aim yourself at a cause.”

Ash didn’t bother to respond.

Rosa unfolded her long, slim legs and stood in front of him. “You use her as an excuse to be ruthless, a way to justify not caring about anyone or anything that might get in the way of your goals.”

She must have seen the homeless-shelter protest on the news. She claimed to care about the fall of every sparrow, never once stopping to take in the big picture. Hard to believe that he’d once found her so appealing.

His secret phone buzzed in his pocket, so he cut the familiar argument short and retreated to the elevator, texting his driver on the way down.

Spooky didn’t disappoint him. Spooky understood about disruption, about risk, about sometimes sacrificing the proverbial sparrow to the greater good.