The Doomsday Conspiracy

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, 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 things … 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 was 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 was sickening. Ridiculously, Robert found himself getting angry. “Is this wonderful patient of yours married?”

“No, darling. Why?”

“I just wondered.”

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 him. “It’s Monte Banks.”

“Whatever.” It was 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’ll 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. She’s expecting you.” 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.