[If unfamiliar with the storyline in
Beyond a Reasonable Doubt
, stop now and read that one before resuming. AL/a]
*
Acheson sat behind the wheel, looked at Genie sitting beside him in the dark, then he flipped on the overhead light, picked up a notepad and began writing. "I need to get packed," he said as he wrote, "and stop by the pharmacy on the way to the airport."
"What time's your flight?"
"I have to be in dispatch by nine. Scheduled departure is 10:20."
He finished writing and handed her the pad, and she read while he started the car and drove up Versailles, then turned on Lomo Alto. At Mockingbird he turned right, and they drove in silence until he stopped at the light at Hillcrest, then he motored slowly through the SMU campus, checking for a tail, before he pulled into the driveway to his little house. He took the pad from her, tore the page from the pad and wadded it up as they walked inside.
He packed his clothes, took an envelope he kept inside a small, wall mounted safe and put it in his flight bag, then he sat beside her for a long time, rubbing her head.
She shook her head after a few minutes, stood and walked over to one of the bedroom windows. "I feel horrible inside," she said as she looked at lightning dancing across the sky. "Like nothing makes sense anymore. I just want to go away and hide somewhere."
"Might not be such a bad idea, if you could still look yourself in the eye, anyway. Not sure I'll be able to, but I've had enough for now. I'm not sure this is a war we can win."
"Nobody ever wins, Ben. Winning is an illusion, an idea politicians sell to get people ready for the next one."
"You're turning into a cynic, aren't you?"
"We had to read this book for our Medical Ethics class," she said, handing it to him. "It really shook me up."
He turned the book over in his hand --
12, 20 & 5: A Doctor's Year in Vietnam
-- then he read the blurb on the back cover. "Sounds, uh, interesting."
"Interesting. Yes. It was that."
"And?"
"I wonder...is it ever go to stop? I mean, what's the point of all this -- if we're not going to learn?"
He shrugged. "Who knows? What I do know is there's always going to be somebody out there who wants your stuff, and who's willing to kill you to get it. Does it really make any difference why?"
"Maybe not."
"You carried the badge, you know the score. Once upon a time I went on the basic assumption that all people are basically good. I mean, deep down. It took about a year on the street to figure out how stupid that is."
"Is it? Maybe all people are born good, then maybe life changes us, slowly, little by little, until maybe it sucks the good right out of us. Maybe that's what's wrong with us."
"I don't even know how to respond to that. How do you explain a Mother Theresa, a Gandhi?"
"Did you ever read any Piaget? Or Kohlberg?"
He shrugged. "My degree was in engineering, remember?"
"You should read up on Lawrence Kohlberg. The stages of moral development."
"They making you read that stuff, too?"
"Yup."
"Morality and medicine, huh. Well, there's an unexpected thought."
"You're a philistine!" she said, laughing a little.
He tuned the book over in his hand again. "Mind if I take it with me?"
"No, go ahead. You've been warned, though. Might change the way you think. What'd you need at the pharmacy?"
"Some more eyedrops."
"I've got a spare. Want to take mine?"
"You don't mind?"
"No. You still having trouble?"
"Smog and dry air. Bad combination."
"Just use the drops, and stop rubbing your eyes. You get nodular episcleritis a few more times and you'll need to go back to the doc for some real work."
"Wish I'd taken a nap yesterday."
"What is it, a seven hour flight?"
"Depends on the jet-stream, but that's close enough. Usually closer to eight."
"Where are you staying?"
He shrugged. "Usually out by the airport. Marriott, usually."
"Makes sense, I guess."
"You haven't been yet, have you?"
She shook her head. "No, I haven't. Can't imagine why, either."
"We'll have more time now. Burning the candle at both ends...isn't that what you said I was doing?"
"Yup. Maybe we could go -- together? Still, I'm not sure..."
"Look, the cop thing is over with now. Time to move on."
"You think you'll miss it?"
"Being a cop? Hell yes. Every day."
"I do, too."
"You should've gone straight to med school, never done the FBI thing."
"I know. 20-20 hindsight, huh?"
"And I never should have joined the department."
"Well, the bottom fell out on the airlines, didn't it. You weren't the only one laid off."
"It'll happen again, you know," he said. "If this really turns into a full blown civil war, the global economy will tank."
"I know."
"Then what?"
"Then we pick up the pieces. I get through school, you go work for the Sanitation Department..."
He chuckled. "I guess I deserve that." He looked at his watch, shook his head. "I'm going to miss you this time."