The Doomsday Conspiracy (12 page)

"You don't have to say it, Robert. My opinion of your work and dedication will always remain the same. I just have one favor to ask of you."

"What's that, Admiral?"

"The deputy director e of the CIA asked to meet with you, regardless of your decision. As a courtesy. You don't mind do you?" Page 67

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"Of course not, sir."

The next day Robert drove to Langley for his meeting with the deputy director.

"Sit down, Commander," the deputy director said after Robert entered the large corner office.

"I've heard a lot about you. All good things, of course."

"Thank you, sir."

The deputy director was a man in his early sixties, with fine white hair and a small brush mustache that moved up and down as he drew on his pipe. A Yale graduate, he had joined the OSS during World War II and then moved into the CIA when it was formed after the conflict. He rose steadily up the ranks to his present position in one of the largest and most powerful intelligence agencies in the world.

"I want you to know, Commander, that I respect your decision." Bellamy nodded toward the deputy director.

"There is one fact, however, that I feel I should bring to your attention."

"What's that, sir?"

"The President is personally involved in the operation to unmask the Fox."

"I didn't know that, sir."

"He regards it-as I do, too-as one of the most important assignments this agency has had since its inception. I know of your situation at home, and I'm sure the President is sympathetic too. He's a real family man. But your not taking on this assignment might throw-how should I say it-a cloud on the ONI and Admiral Whittaker."

"The admiral had nothing to do with my decision, sir," Robert said.

"I understand that, Commander, but will the President understand that?" The honeymoon will have to be postponed, Robert thought.

* * * When Robert broke the news to Susan, he said gently, "This is my last overseas assignment. After this I'll be home so much you'll get sick of me."

She smiled up at him.

"There isn't that much time in the world.

We're going to be together forever."

The chase after the Fox was the most frustrating thing Robert had ever experienced. He picked up his trail in Argentina but missed his quarry by one day. The trail led to Tokyo and China and then Malaysia. Whoever the Fox was, he left just enough of a trail to lead to where he had been but never to where he was. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, and always Robert was just behind the Fox. He called Susan almost every day. In the beginning, it was "I'll be home Page 68

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in a few days, darling." And then, "I might be home next week." And then, finally, "I'm not sure when I'll be back." In the end, Robert had to give up. He had been on the Fox's trail for two and a half months with no success.

When he returned to Susan, she seemed changed. A little cooler.

"I'm sorry, darling," Robert apologized.

"I had no idea it would take so long. It was just-"

"They'll never let you go, will they, Robert?"

"What? Of course, they will."

She shook her head.

"I don't think so. I've taken a job at Washington Memorial Hospital." He was taken aback.

"You've what?"

"I'm going to be a nurse again. I can't sit around waiting for you to come home to me, wondering where you are and what you're doing, wondering whether you're dead or alive."

"Susan, I-"

"It's all right, my sweetheart. At least I'll be doing something useful while you're gone. It will make the waiting easier." And Robert had no answer to that.

He reported his failure to Admiral Whittaker. The admiral was sympathetic.

"It's my fault for agreeing to let you do it. From now on, we'll let the CIA handle their own damned problems. I'm sorry, Robert." Robert told him about Susan taking a job as a nurse.

"That's probably a good idea," the Admiral said thoughtfully.

"It will take the pressure off your marriage. If you took on some overseas caseloads now and then, I'm sure it won't matter as much." Now and then turned out to be almost constantly. That was when the marriage really began to disintegrate.

Susan worked at Washington Memorial Hospital as an operating room nurse, and whenever Robert was home, she tried to take time off to be with him, but she was caught up more and more in her work.

"I'm really enjoying it, darling. I feel I'm doing something useful." She would talk to Robert about her patients, and he remembered how caring she had been with him, how she had nurtured him back to health, back to life. He was pleased that she was doing important work that she loved, but the fact was, they were seeing less and less of each other. The emotional distance between them was widening. There was an awkwardness now that had not existed before. They were like two strangers trying desperately hard to make conversation. When Robert returned to Washington from a six-week assignment in Turkey, Page 69

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he took Susan out to dinner at Sans Souci.

Susan said, "We have a new patient at the hospital. He was in a bad plane crash, and the doctors didn't think he was going to live, but I'm going to see to it that he does." Her eyes were glowing.

She was like that with me, Robert thought. And he wondered if she had leaned over the new patient and said, "Get well. I'm waiting for you." He rejected the thought.

"He's so nice, Robert. All the nurses are crazy about him." All the nurses? he wondered.

There was a small, nagging doubt at the back of his mind, but he managed to get rid of it.

They ordered dinner.

The=following Saturday, Robert left for Portugal, and when he returned three weeks later, Susan greeted him excitedly.

"Monte walked today for the first time!" Her kiss was perfunctory.

"Monte?"

"Monte Banks. That's his name. He's going to be fine. The doctors couldn't believe it, but we wouldn't give up." We.

"Tell me about him."

"He's really darling. He's always giving us gifts. He's very wealthy. He flies his own plane, and he was in a bad crash, and-"

"What kind of gifts?"

"Oh, you know, just little thing-candies and flowers and books and records. He tried to give all of us expensive watches but of course we had to refuse."

"Of course."

"He has a yacht, polo ponies - That was the day Robert began calling him Moneybags.

Susan talked about him every time she came home from the hospital.

"He's really dear, Robert." Dear is dangerous.

"And he's so thoughtful. Do you know what he did today? He had lunch sent from the Jockey Club for all the nurses on the floor." The man is sickening. Ridiculously, Robert found himself getting angry.

"Is this wonderful patient of yours married?"

"No, darling. Why?"

"I just wondered."

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She laughed.

"For heaven's sake, you're not jealous, are you?"

"Of some old man who's just learning to walk? Of course not." Like hell I'm not. But he wouldn't give Susan the satisfaction of saying so. When Robert was at home, Susan tried not to talk about her patient, but if she did not bring up the subject, Robert would.

"How is old Moneybags doing?"

"His name is not Moneybags," she chided.

"It's Monte Banks."

"Whatever." It's too bad the sonofabitch couldn't have died in the plane crash.

The following day was Susan's birthday.

"I'll tell you what," Robert said, enthusiastically, "we'Il celebrate. We'll go out and have a wonderful dinner somewhere and-"

"I have to work at the hospital until eight."

"All right. I'll pick you up there."

"Fine. Monte is dying to meet you. I've told him all about you."

"I look forward to meeting the old man," Robert assured her. When Robert arrived at the hospital, the receptionist said, "Good evening, Commander. Susan is working in the orthopedic ward on the third floor. 5~~~5 expecting y~~~~7 She picked up the telephone. When Robert got off the elevator, Susan was waiting for him, wearing her white starched uniform, and his heart skipped a beat. She was, oh, so damned beautiful.

"Hello, gorgeous."

Susan smiled, strangely ill at ease.

"Hello, Robert. I'll be off duty in a few minutes. Come on. I'll introduce you to Monte."

I can't wait.

She led him into a large private room filled with books and flowers and baskets of fruit, and said, "Monte, this is my husband, Robert." Robert stood there staring at the man in the bed. He was three or four years older than Robert and resembled Paul Newman. Robert despised him on sight.

"I'm certainly pleased to meet you, Commander. Susan has been telling me all about you." Is that what they talk about when she is at his bedside in the middle of the night?

"She's very proud of you."

That's it, buddy, throw me a few crumbs. Susan was looking at Robert, willing him to be polite.

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He made an effort.

"I understand you'll be getting out of here soon."

"Yes, thanks mostly to your wife. She's a miracle worker."

"Come on, sailor. Do you think I'm going to let some other nurse have that great body?"

"Yes, that's her specialty." Robert could not keep the bitterness out of his voice.

The birthday dinner was a fiasco. All Susan wanted to talk about was her patient.

"Did he remind you of anyone, darling?"

"Boris Karloff."

"Why did you have to be so rude to him?" He said coldly, "I thought I was very civil. I don't happen to like the man." Susan stared at him.

"You don't even know him. What don't you like about him?" I don't like the way he looks at you. I don't like the way you look at him. I don't like the way our marriage is going to hell. God, I don't want to lose you.

"Sorry. I guess I'm just tired."

They finished their dinner in silence. The next morning, as Robert was getting ready to go to the office, Susan said, "Robert, I have something to say to you. -.."

And it was as if he had been struck in the pit of his stomach. He could not bear to have her put what was happening into words.

"Susan-"

"You know I love you. I'll always love you. You're the dearest, most wonderful man I've ever known."

"Please-"

"No, let me finish. This is very hard for me. In the last year, we've only spent minutes together. We don't have a marriage anymore. We've drifted apart."

Every word was a knife stabbing into him.

"You're right," he said desperately.

"I'll change. I'll quit the agency. Now. Today. We'll go away somewhere and-" She shook her head.

"No, Robert. We both know that wouldn't work. You're doing what you want to do. If you stopped doing it because of me, you would always resent it. This isn't anybody's fault. It just-happened. I want a divorce."

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It was as though the world had caved in on him. He felt suddenly sick to his stomach.

"You don't mean that, Susan.

We'll find a way to-"

"It's too late. I've been thinking about this for a long time. All the while you were away and I sat home alone and waited for you to come back, I thought about it. We've been living separate lives. I need more than that. I need something you ~~~~~ give me ~~y~~~~~~) He stood there, fighting to control his emotions.

"Does this-does this have anything to do with Moneybags?" Susan hesitated.

"Monte has asked me to marry him." He could feel his bowels turning to water.

"And you're going to?"

"Yes."

It was some kind of crazy nightmare. This isn't happening, he thought. It can't be. His eyes filled with tears.

Susan put her arms around him and held him close.

"I will never again feel about any man the way I felt about you. I loved you with all my heart and soul. I will always love you. You are my dearest friend."

She pulled back and looked into his eyes.

"But that isn't enough. Do you understand?" All he understood was that she was tearing him apart.

"We could try again. We'll start over and-"

"I'm sorry, Robert." Her voice was choked.

"I'm so sorry, but it's finished."

Susan flew to Reno for a divorce, and Commander Robert Bellamy went on a two-week drunk.

Old habits die hard. Robert telephoned a friend at the FBI. Al Traynor had crossed Robert's path half a dozen times in the past, and Robert trusted him.

"Tray, I need a favor."

"A favor? You need a psychiatrist. How the hell could you let Susan get away?"

The news was probably all over town.

"It's a long, sad story."

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"I'm really sorry, Robert. She was a great lady. I-never mind. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like you to run a computer check on someone."

"You've got it. Give me a name."

"Monte Banks. It's just a routine inquiry."

"Right. What do you want to know?"

"He's probably not even in your files, Tray, but if he is-did he ever get a parking ticket, beat his dog, run a red light? The usual."

"Sure."

"And I'm curious about where he got his money. I'd like a fix on his background."

"So, just routine, huh?"

"And Tray, let's keep this between us. It's personal. Okay?"

"No problem. I'll call you in the morning."

"Thanks. I owe you a lunch."

"Dinner."

"You've got it."

Robert replaced the receiver and thought: Portrait of a man clutching at straws. What am I hoping for, that he's Jack the Ripper and Susan will come flying back into my arms?

Early the following morning, Dustin Thornton sent for Robert.

"What are you working on, Commander?"

He knows perfectiy well what I'm working on, Robert thought.

"I'm winding up my file on the diplomat from Singapore, and-"