The Einstein Papers (4 page)

“We’ve been made,” Agnews said. “He’s coming right toward us.”

Einstein crossed the street and walked up to the open window of the Ford with the tray balanced in front of him. “I thought you men might be thirsty. It seems the FBI does not believe in giving their agents breaks.”

He filled a glass and handed it to Agnews in the driver’s seat. “Pass it over,” Einstein said.

After filling a glass for Talbot, he motioned to the pitcher. “I’ll leave what’s left, in case you get thirsty later. When you’re finished, just leave the pitcher and the glasses on my front porch.”

Agnews stared at the scientist through the open window of the Ford, then smiled. “Thanks, Dr. Einstein,” he said.

“It’s no trouble,” Einstein said. “I just have one question.”

“What is it?” Agnews asked.

“Do I notify you before I plan to go anywhere?”

“No, Dr. Einstein,” Talbot said, leaning out the window. “The way it works is you’re not supposed to know we’re here.”

“I shall attempt to hide from you then,” Einstein said as he walked away.

“That would be fine,” Agnews shouted after the retreating scientist.

Over the last week Einstein had studied the FBI agents and their habits. The surveillance consisted of three separate teams. Each team was comprised of two agents. A total of six agents in all. The teams seemed to rotate their shifts around so that each team worked both night and day shifts.

Einstein noted that as the days passed the agents had become lax in their surveillance. They no longer observed his home through binoculars. Frequently one agent would leave the car to fetch lunch or to use the restroom in a university building a block away.

It was time for Einstein to put his plan in motion.

Einstein’s gardener was a cranky old Irishman named Jack O’Toole. O’Toole had cared for Einstein’s grounds for too many years to remember, and the men had grown quite close. In the summer, when O’Toole finished with the yard work he would share a cold drink with Einstein and talk baseball. In the winter, when O’Toole performed snow removal duties, the men would enjoy a hot toddy and discuss weather and politics.

Still, as close as the two men were, O’Toole opposed Einstein’s plan.

“Al,” O’Toole said slowly, “I didn’t think you knew how to drive a car.”

“I have never actually driven a car,” Einstein pleaded, “but I am quite good on the bumper cars at the amusement park.”

“Very funny,” O’Toole said, “my truck has a four-speed gearbox. Do you think you could learn how to shift gears?”

“No problem, you just push the pedal on the left to the floor then select the gear you wish. Next you engage the gear by using the hand shifter that is located on the floor.”

“This is rich,” O’Toole said, laughing. “How far do you need to drive?”

“Not far,” Einstein lied.

O’Toole stared at his friend for a moment. “I must be crazy. But, sure, you can use my truck. But I want you to know you have to have it fixed if you bang it up.”

Thank you, Jack,” Einstein said, touching his friend’s shoulder. “Now let me explain the rest of my plan.”

Twenty minutes later, Einstein and O’Toole stood in the living room in their costumes. Atop O’Toole’s head was Einstein’s felt slouch hat. Tufts of gray hair tumbled down from the sides and rear.

“This itches,” O’Toole noted, “and these pants feel like they’re going to fall off.”

“Helen brought the hair back from a dog-grooming parlor yesterday-I think she said it was from an Afghan hound.”

“And the false mustache,” O’Toole said, feeling like he was about to sneeze.

“From the same four-legged donor,” Einstein said, smiling. “Now pay attention to how I shuffle when I walk.”

Einstein demonstrated his walk. He was dressed in a set of work clothes similar to the ones O’Toole customarily wore. Helen Dukas had purchased the clothes from a nearby Sears Roebuck store only yesterday upon learning of the plan. O’Toole trailed along with Einstein until he had mastered the walk

“Good, good, you have it perfectly,” Einstein said finally. “Now we go outside.”

Helen Dukas watched the men from a chair in the living room. T think you two are starting to enjoy this cloak-and-dagger stuff.”

Einstein said nothing. Hooking his thumbs into his pants pockets he bowed his legs and swung his hips from side to side.

“I don’t walk like that,” O’Toole said, shuffling along behind him.

“But you do, my friend,” Einstein said.

“This is never going to work, Dr. Einstein,” Dukas said quietly.

“There’s Einstein,” Talbot said as the men walked onto the porch.

O’Toole shielded Einstein as they walked toward the driveway. Leading Einstein to the drivers door of the truck he opened the door and waited as Einstein climbed into the seat. Once Einstein was in place, he spoke.

“Here’s the key, Al,” O’Toole said, “just please try not to wreck the old girl.”

“How about you?” Einstein asked. “Will you be all right?”

“No problem,” O’Toole said. “I’ll just shuffle down to your office and take a nap on your office couch for a few hours.”

With a wink at Einstein, O’Toole walked away from the truck. As he shuffled up the street toward Einstein’s office, Agent Talbot turned the Ford sedan around. Keeping a respectful distance, the Ford sedan carrying the FBI agents followed O’Toole.

Neither Talbot nor Agnews was watching in the rearview mirror as Einstein backed the truck from the driveway and slowly pulled away.

Grinding the gears, Einstein forced O’Toole’s 1939 Chevrolet pickup into first gear and set off for Hartley’s Marina. It was a hot summer day and the air hung over the land like a burning blanket.

Inside the dark-green Chevy truck Einstein clutched the wheel in a death grip. At the stop sign down the street from his house Einstein managed to stop the truck in time. Restarting the engine, which had stalled when Einstein had slammed on the brakes while forgetting to push down on the clutch, he lurched from the stop in second gear. A thin trickle of sweat ran down the side of Einstein’s face as he reached for third gear.

Appearing like some bizarre circus parade, the procession of the fake Einstein followed by the FBI agents in the black sedan was nearing its end. O’Toole was less than 125 yards from the outer door to Einstein’s laboratory and was already savoring the pride from a job well done.

O’Toole slowed as a perky young female student approached from the opposite direction. Her head was down, staring toward the pavement, but she raised her face to smile at O’Toole as they got closer. Two steps later the toe of her left shoe hooked on a piece of uneven sidewalk and sent her tumbling to the ground.

“Are you okay?” O’Toole asked excitedly.

“Fine, fine,” said the student. “I just need to be fitted for glasses and I’ve been too vain to follow through with it.”

Agnews and Talbot had stopped the Ford sedan and were watching the scene.

“Here, let me help you up,” O’Toole said.

The female student raised her arm to O’Toole, who bent at the waist to help lift the girl to her feet. At that instant, the hat O’Toole was wearing fell from his head, flipped over once, then landed, crown down, on the cement. From the passenger side of the Ford sedan Agnews stared at O’Toole in shock.

“We’ve been had,” he said to Talbot as he stared at O’Toole.

“That looks like the gardener,” Talbot said.

“Then Einstein must be driving his truck,” Agnews said.

Talbot swung the Ford in a half-circle and raced off after the truck. But the FBI agents were too late to catch the fleeing scientist.

Princeton Police Patrolman Duke Tanner was stopped at a filling station four blocks from Einstein’s house when the pickup rolled past. Tanner listened as the driver of the truck ground the gears. He watched as the driver swerved to avoid a metal trash can on the side of the road. Tanner decided to follow the Chevrolet. After following the truck for several miles he pulled abreast of the pickup at a stoplight.

Tanner stared at the driver in amazement before shouting out his open window. “Is that you, Dr. Einstein?”

Einstein glanced at the light nervously before turning to Tanner. Einstein was still having trouble coordinating the clutch and gas pedals when pulling from a dead stop and he feared he was going to stall out the engine again when the light changed. “Hello, Officer, it’s me.”

“I didn’t know you could drive,” Tanner said.

“Just learning,” Einstein said as he stared again at the light. “You’re never too old to learn new skills.”

“Let me follow behind you to make sure you get safely out of town,” Tanner said.

Einstein said nothing, he just gave Tanner a thumbs-up sign. When the light changed he lurched from the stop in the wrong gear. Tanner followed Einstein several miles, then tooted his horn and turned back toward Princeton as the truck made its way into the New Jersey countryside.

By the time Einstein had an hour of driving under his belt he became cocky. Flicking on the AM radio, he began to sing along with the songs. Even though Einstein had become more confident, the drive to Hartley’s Marina would take him twice the time it took Scaramelli.

Halfway through the trip the physicist got lost on a series of back roads and had considered turning back. But he continued to press on.

Flicking on the windshield wipers to clear the glass, Einstein merely succeeded in smearing the bugs on the glass into streaks. He pulled to the side of the road and checked a map until he was convinced he was driving in the correct direction. Pulling the truck back onto the road, he drove a few miles, then stopped at a four-way stop. He sniffed the air for the smell of salt and took the fork to the east. Einstein began to feel a sense of relief when the surroundings started to look familiar. When he reached the marina, he slid O’Toole’s truck to a stop in the parking lot.

Hartley was surprised to see Einstein. He always called ahead for Hartley to ready his sailboat. Even so, the marina owner prepared the vessel for sailing without comment. Once the boat was ready, Einstein left it tied to the dock and returned to the pickup, where he removed a weathered satchel, which he carried belowdecks and stashed in a compartment beneath the table.

“Will you be working today, Dr. Einstein?” Hartley asked as he untied the line holding the bow of Einstein’s sailboat to the dock.

“Lately it seems I’m always working,” Einstein said easily.

Hartley nodded and, with nothing more forthcoming from Einstein, pushed the sailboat from the dock. Einstein steered away from the dock out toward the ocean.

“What time should I expect you back?” Hartley yelled as the sailboat neared the breakwater.

Just at the edge of his hearing, Einstein heard the question and shouted a reply.

“When I’m finished,” he said. With that, he waved goodbye to Hartley, hoisted all sails, and set a course for the deserted cove he had visited on his last voyage. Just over an hour later, anchored stern to shore in the shallows, Einstein removed his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants. Wading through the water, he made his way through the brush and climbed up a small rise. He scanned the terrain, finally selecting a fine oak tree. From a flask of Holland gin he took a large swallow of the peppermint liquor.

After finding a comfortable seat at the base of the oak, he removed a sharp wood chisel from a canvas bag he had carried ashore and began carving on a board. It was late in the afternoon, the sun almost at the horizon when he finished.

Ten Years Later

Einstein suffered stoically through what had become almost unbearable pain. In the last several days, the hardened aorta he steadfastly refused to have operated on had begun to slowly leak blood. This day in April 1955 brought an air of approaching parting, of a journey nearing its end.

The attendant in the passenger seat was daydreaming as the ambulance raced toward Einstein’s home. As the driver braked to a stop in front of 112 Mercer, the sound of skidding tires brought the attendant back to the present. Jumping from his seat, he ran to the rear and helped the driver unload the gurney. They wheeled the gurney to the front of the house and the driver rapped on the door. Helen Dukas flung it open at the first sound of the knock. From inside the house the ambulance driver could hear that an argument was still raging.

“The end comes sometimes. Does it matter when, or where?” Einstein said to Dukas.

The two attendants listened in silence as the housekeeper tried valiantly to reason with the stubborn physicist. “The nursing field is one I simply do not understand, Herr Professor,” Dukas said finally. “It would make me more comfortable if you went to the hospital.”

The attendants watched as Einstein considered this. “Very well, then,” Einstein said, “I will go to the hospital, but I’ll need to send a telegram to Niels Bohr in Denmark. Can we stop on the way to the hospital?”

“I will take care of the telegram after you are in bed in the hospital,” Dukas said in a firm voice. “Now it is time to go.”

With that, Einstein rose to his feet unsteadily.

After loading Einstein on the gurney and strapping him down, the ambulance attendants carried him down the steps and carefully slid the cart in the back of the Cadillac ambulance for the trip to the hospital. Once Einstein was safely in the rear, the driver ran forward and climbed behind the wheel while the attendant closed the door from inside and kneeled on the floor next to the old physicist.

“What is your name?” Einstein croaked.

“Gunther,” the young attendant said, “Gunther Ackerman.”

“Do you speak German?” the physicist asked.

“Yes, my father was German.”

“Good,” Einstein said, coughing.

As the ambulance pulled away from the curb, Einstein began speaking rapidly in German. The attendant sat quietly, listening. Einstein continued a nonstop monologue until the ambulance pulled into the hospital’s emergency entrance. As the rear doors were yanked open, Einstein motioned the attendant still closer.

Gasping for breath, he whispered in German, “The force will be in the wind.”