It was 1948. He was living in his log cabin in Montana. Although he had access through Swiss bank accounts to vast amounts of money, he eked out a living doing odd jobs and guiding tourists through Glacier National Park. One client, a businessman from Detroit, had left a magazine in his cabin. Schroeder did all the cleanup work himself, and he had glanced idly through its pages. That's when he discovered what had happened to Lazlo Kovacs since the night the Wilhelm Gustloff went to the bottom.
The magazine article described a company set up by Dr. Janos, an enterprising World War II Hungarian refugee. His corporation was bringing an innovative array of consumer products to the market, all based on electromagnetic properties, making him a millionaire in the process. Schroeder smiled. There was no photograph of the reclusive inventor, but the Kovacs genius came through on every item.
It was the mud season in between skiing and trekking, so one day he packed a bag and took the train to Detroit. He found the Janos lab in an unmarked building. He had to ask several people in the neighborhood where the lab was.
He watched the front door from a parked car. The patience he had learned when stalking human beings was eventually rewarded. A Cadillac limousine pulled up to the building. Instead of stopping in front, it went around to an alley in the back. It took off before he could see who got in the car. He followed the car to the exclusive Grosse Pointe section of Detroit, where many auto executives lived. He lost the limo when it went through the gate of a walled estate.
The next afternoon, he was at the lab again. He parked where he had a clear view of the back alley. When the limo showed up, he got out of his car and walked over to the alley. The chauffeur, who was holding the door open, glanced at him but probably thought Schroeder was a bum to be ignored.
A man emerged from the back door and walked to the limo. He glanced in Schroeder's direction, started to get in the car, then he looked again. A wide grin came to his face. To the puzzlement of the limo driver, his wealthy employer went over and put his arms around the bum in a great hug.
"After all these years. What in God's name are you doing here?" Kovacs said.
"I thought you might like to take a ride in the snow," Schroeder said with a grin.
Kovacs responded with a look of mock horror. "Not if you are at the wheel."
"You're looking well, old friend."
"Yes, you too. Different, however. I wasn't sure at first. But it's the same old Karl."
"I shouldn't have come here," Schroeder said.
"Please, my friend, it was fated that we would meet again. I have so much to thank you for."
"Knowing that you are well and prosperous is thanks enough. Now I must go."
"We must talk first," Kovacs said. He told his driver to wait, and led the way back into the lab. "There is no one here," he said.
They passed through lab rooms filled with electrical contraptions that would have been at home in Frankenstein's lab and settled in a luxurious office.
"You've done well," Schroeder said. "I'm glad to see that."
"I've been very fortunate. And you?"
"I am happy, although my home isn't as rich looking as yours."
"You've been to my house? Of course, I should have known. You touch all the bases, as they say in our adopted country."
"You have a family?"
A cloud passed over Kovacs's brow, but then he smiled. "Yes, I remarried. And you?"
"There have been many women, but I continue to be a loner."
"Most unfortunate. I'd like to introduce you to my wife and daughter."
Schroeder shook his head. This was as far as it goes, he said. Kovacs said he understood. Schroeder's presence would raise too many questions. Both of them still had enemies in the world. They talked for another hour, until Schroeder finally asked the question that had been on his mind.
"I assume you have buried the frequencies?"
Kovacs tapped his forehead. "Up here, now and forever."
"You are aware that there was an attempt to capitalize on your work. The Russians found material at the lab and tried to make it work for them."
Kovacs smiled. "I am like the aunt who writes down her cookie recipe for the family but leaves out an important ingredient. Their experiments would have taken them only so far."
"They tried. Our adopted country conducted similar research, once the government found out what was going on. Then the experiments stopped."