Friday, January 8, 1943 - The Next Day
Hotel New Yorker - 34th St at Eighth Ave
Standing outside the hotel suite door, the cleaning lady wiped the sweat from her brow. After two deep breaths, she began wringing her hands, while staring at the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, hanging from the doorknob outside Dr. Nikola Tesla’s suite. The nervous woman grabbed the sign for an anxious moment then let it go, afraid of what secret power Tesla might have used. Her tired, sagging shoulders weighed heavy as she helplessly stared at the warning sign swaying from side to side.
Peeking through the door cracked open across from the hallway was a pair of thick glasses, looking up and down as Fitzgerald frantically scribbled notes on her every move. In his report to his Captain, the new recruit noted he was not a spy but a physicist who was drafted.
There was good reason for hiding and watching Suite 3327. The Army realized the impact of Tesla’s weapon and knew other countries had seen it too. Before he was drafted into Army Intelligence, Fitzgerald was certain the technology to end all wars was behind the door. On his first assignment for A. I., he was taught how to control breathing so she would not hear being watched. The technique made him dizzy so he wrote, “I maintained silence by breathing through my mouth”. Spying was prickly to the raw trooper.
Straight out of boot camp his assignment was Army Intelligence. There was no time for gradual anything during a war. The first week Fitzgerald was deciphering the notes of a genius and a few months later he was following a suspicious maid.
Fitzgerald was not exactly conscripted; he was chosen. He had not finished his dissertation but sure in hell was in the Army now. They made him wear their black rimmed G.I. issued glasses. There were other reasons he hated thick specs. The G.I. pair could not focus well at middle distances, like the other side of the hall. However as Fitzgerald learned his military specialty code was as a researcher and all Army orders were correct, every time any Officer said they were.
Fitzgerald watched the maid nervously gape up and down at the door, resting on one leg and then the other. The frumpy matron was unmindful of her right hand twisting the cleaning towel hard around her left wrist. She cut off the circulation and he could see her fingers turned sallow. Oblivious she continued to gaze afraid, frozen into a mindless gaze with wilting fingers.
The young spy was afraid she was damaging herself. He feared Tesla was going to open the door any second. She stopped twisting the towel to wipe her brow. She stared at the door.
He recalled the gracious meeting he had with Tesla last year. They were both tall soft spoken men, Fitzgerald a fourth the Doctor’s age. Tesla articulated a precise metric. Fitzgerald remembered spending months afterwards practicing Tesla’s pacing to sound smarter.
Fitzgerald later confessed “After years of graduate study, I still could not keep up with his mind”. The old genius told me that, “We have to let go of power to enjoy it.”
In his notes the old man noticed his nervous maid. Tesla explained, “The maid came inside the suite for no apparent reason. She looked through various stacks of notes and took not one.” Given she stole nothing and was quite neat he did not consider her nosy important.
Fitzgerald’s assignment was to maintain and report on the advanced technology created by Nikola Tesla. With each day, Fitzgerald was becoming more worried. There was a cloud growing, creating an increasing distance in the old man’s ways. Tesla’s brilliant intellect cared less and less about every day details. Fitzgerald considered the Doctors well-being to be, well, he personally felt he was the only one who cared.
The maid had a file as a wartime threat. Fitzgerald presumed she would return. Katy had plenty of reason to fear the Tesla’s door. The 33rd floor maids at the Hotel New Yorker knew that failing to clean each and every guest’s room was grounds for termination. Today, she stood still outside, shivering, frightened of her job and what else she had to do.
The frumpy worker jumped back, when the hallway lights flickered. She had reasons to fear some old eccentric who lived in this hotel for years. The staff whispers about the mastermind who created the generators of their brightly lit ballrooms. They say he could make lights blink anywhere, any time he wanted. They were sure he had something to do when the lights blinked as WWII battled on.
In later testimony, Katy read from her diary. She had spoken with the tenant in 3327 three times in the last two years. The first time, Tesla cautioned her about the suite’s arrangements and the placement of each item. In a second brief discussion, he politely asked her “where might I purchase pigeon food?” Then there was the third time when he politely asked her not to clean that day. The maid felt uncontrollably beguiled, yet afraid of him. He looked straight through her with his deep-set, crystal blue piercing eyes. Every maid knew the gaze of this reclusive genius could look right through others. Some whispered the eyes could continue to pierce into a person’s soul. Everyone kept their distance.
Most maids were terrified of his stare. Katy could not remember any maid daring to approach the mastermind.