THE EINSTEIN PROPHECY by Masello Robert

Author:Masello, Robert
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2015-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Professor Einstein and his friends were whisked out of the stadium by policemen, loaded into a cruiser, and driven straight back to Mercer Street, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Helen was already waiting on the front porch by the time they got there, and quickly brought them all inside, closing and locking both the screen door, which was usually left open, and the inner door, too. A cop, arms folded, was stationed on the front steps.

Russell, Szilárd, and Gödel were all as agitated as could be expected, though Einstein himself felt an odd sense of calm. The incident, after all, was over, with no serious repercussions—unless that young man, the one with the black patch, had been seriously hurt. He would have to make inquiries about his welfare.

While Helen fussed over the others, offering tea and brandy and wrapping a blanket around the shivering Gödel’s shoulders, Einstein himself went up to his office to gather his thoughts. He shrugged off his coat and was just about to toss it on the sofa when he noticed what looked like blood spattered on the collar. He knew it wasn’t his own, and now he was even more concerned about the fate of that young man with the eye patch. Something told him that he had even seen the fellow before, and then he remembered—he had observed him once or twice on the porch of that house across the street. Ah then, that would make it easier to find out if he was all right.

Brushing some papers from the seat of his desk chair—Helen sometimes piled his mail there so he wouldn’t miss it—he plopped down and let out a great sigh. In a way, he was surprised that this sort of thing hadn’t happened to him more often. Every day, he received a flood of fan mail from people in all walks of life—budding scientists, schoolchildren, even the occasional female admirer—but mixed in with all the pleasant stuff were angry letters from cranks, maniacs, conspiracy theorists, anti-Semites, and proud and patriotic Americans who believed he was a Communist sympathizer or worse. J. Edgar Hoover, Einstein knew perfectly well, suspected him of harboring pro-Soviet sentiments and, as a result, had undoubtedly been keeping a file on him at the FBI for many years. It was Hoover, without question, who had been instrumental in revoking the top security clearance that Einstein had once enjoyed.

And which Oppenheimer had secretly circumvented by coming to his house for help.

When the phone rang only minutes later, he wasn’t surprised. He waited for Helen to answer it downstairs, as she always did, then listened for her knock on his door. When it came, he said, “Yes?”

“It is from New Mexico, Professor.”

He didn’t have to know any more than that. He swiveled his creaking chair toward the desk, cleared away some paper debris, and picked up the receiver. He had barely said hello before Oppenheimer blurted out, “Are you all right?”

“Yes, Robert, I am fine.”

“I’m told the assassin is dead.

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