Miracle Man (51 page)

“And you didn’t want to interfere with that by treating him, did you? Because it was useful to your program,” Susan said.

Varneys spoke up. “It’s not that simple. You have to understand that we had no experience dealing with a mind at Robert’s level. No one did. We didn’t want to dull him down with medications that were designed for ordinary people, or subject him to analysis that might backfire. We were dealing with a unique situation.”

Uhlman’s voice turned professorial. “I believe that a series of events accelerated the progression of Robert’s illness—the sudden death of his parents, soon followed by Joseph Manzini’s death and then shortly thereafter, Robert’s learning the horrible details of his abandonment at birth.” Uhlman cast a glance over to Varneys. “And then, immediately after that last trauma, Robert was required to leave the Institute. In retrospect, we know that this was a serious mistake. It heightened his isolation and paranoia. For all intents and purposes, he had no friends or family for years—until, of course, he met the two of you. So he lived solely in his own head— a dangerous place to be. His feelings of abandonment, rejection and betrayal were intensified by certain sensitivities— what we in the psychiatric field call ‘over-excitability factors.’ They’re proportional to one’s intelligence. In Robert’s case, his intellect being so extraordinary, this heightened sensitivity was particularly acute.”

Slouching in the sofa, Christina’s eyes were closed as she shook her head slowly and murmured, “And he worked too hard. He put so much pressure on himself. It was just too much.”

Uhlman nodded eagerly. “Yes. Exactly right. Adding to all of the other problems was the constant stress which he imposed on himself with his obsessive compulsive work ethic. But that, of course, was also a symptom of his illness.”

“And as the years went by—neither of you did anything?” Christina asked.

“Not true,” said Varneys. “As soon as I was in a position to—when I became Director of the CIA, Robert became a priority for me. I did everything I could to protect him.”

Christina glared at Varneys. “But you didn’t do anything to help him. You just wanted to keep him working, just like you did at the Institute. Just to maximize his output. That’s all you cared about,” said Christina.

Varneys’ face turned red. “It was more than that.”

“I’ll bet,” muttered Susan.

Uhlman continued, “The final destabilizing events were Robert’s apartment being destroyed, and you, Christina, revealing your entanglement with the CIA. As Robert’s disconnection from reality became more frequent and prolonged, his personality became increasingly dissociative. This is what was happening when I came to see him a few years ago at Prides Crossing and he had reached the point that he couldn’t recognize anyone or even acknowledge their presence.” Uhlman looked directly at Christina. “It was a miracle that you were able to bring him back and keep him on track for as long as you did.”

The four of them sat in silence, none making eye contact, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Varneys walked over to his desk and picked up an envelope that was inside a thick file folder. He opened the envelope and passed its contents over to Christina. “This is a letter I received from Robert.”

Christina
read it and then gave it to Susan.

After Susan put the letter down on the coffee table, Varneys said, “It’s an unusual letter don’t you think?”

Christina shook her head. “It’s nothing new. Bobby often said there was some kind of force that was trying to stop him from curing diseases. He told us his view of how the lab was destroyed, but I didn’t know he sent you a letter about it.”

Susan jumped in. “Yeah—years ago –soon after we moved to the Prides Crossing lab—that’s the first time he told me there was some ‘supreme evil’—that’s what he called it—that was interfering with his research and out to get him.”

Varneys began to pace alongside his wall of windows, his steps as measu
red and precise as always. After awhile, he said, “You know, I was never satisfied with what came out of the prosecutions. When I got Robert’s letter, it started me thinking. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I began to re-read all of the trial testimony and investigative reports. Things weren’t adding up for me. And then I decided to do something that nobody else had done.” Varneys looked over at Uhlman.

“What was that?” Christina asked.

“I ordered up copies of the surveillance tapes on the Prides Crossing lab. And I studied them. It took me months.”

“But the tapes had been examined before, hadn’t they?” asked Susan.

“Yes, but not going back three years prior to the explosion. And the investigators were only looking for one thing.”

“What was that?” Christina asked.

“Intruders, co-workers, service providers. That kind of thing,” replied Varneys.

Uhlman was pulling on his unevenly shaved chin with one hand, while the other tightly gripped the head of his cane.

Varneys
picked up a remote control that was sitting on the coffee table. “I made a compilation of the relevant portions of the surveillance footage. Doctor—please walk us through the tapes.”

As the footage played, Uhlman said, “Notice how Robert appears to be moving more slowly than normal, almost robotically. Director—please zoom in closely on his eyes.”

Varneys
manned the remote.

Uhlman continued, “You see how vacant he looks. His eyes are dead. Look at the expression on his face—there is none. He’s in that semi-conscious state. He’s functioning methodically but he’s not in the present. When he returns to normal consciousness, he’ll have no recollection of what he’s done.”

“Oh my God,” Christina said as they witnessed Bobby working on the explosive devices.

“On and off, for over two years, late at night, in the confines of his locked office, he assembled the bombs. Of course, no one checked what he brought into the lab and needless to say, he was extremely adept at designing and building them,” said Varneys. “And here—in this section of the video— you can see in the last year, how he sabotaged his own computers, wiping hard drives clean and destroying back-up memory.”

Uhlman took the floor. “As Robert’s illness progressed, it manifested itself in the creation of a self-loathing alternate personality whose goal was to frustrate his achievements and destroy him. That ‘force of evil’ that he spoke of —that he was so sure was opposing him and that tortured him in his nightmares— was internally generated. As he became sicker, it became more dominant. It took center stage when Robert didn’t have full control over his mind—-when he slept or when he was in one of his trances. In the end, it did what it needed to do to try to stop him.”

“So Bobby blew up the lab,” Susan said.

Varneys nodded.

Tears
streaming down her face, Christina asked, “So where does this leave us?”

Uhlman leaned in toward Christina and rested his heavily veined hand on hers. “He’s stable now and that’s good. He may stay like that indefinitely. I hope so. You and he deserve that.”

“And this meeting. What was the point? Why did you feel you had to tell us?” Susan asked.

Uhlman leaned into his cane as he began the process of trying to stand up. “We were concerned for everyone’s safety—Robert, the two of you, even the little boy.”

“What does that mean?” Christina asked, her face flushed.

“I’m quite certain that Robert’s intellect never really left him, but he thinks it did—and more importantly, so does his alternate self. So, for the time being there’s no internal conflict. But if Robert’s genius ever reasserts itself, it won’t return alone.”

The End

William R. Leibowitz, practices law in New York City and lives in the village of Quogue, with his wife, Alexandria, and his dog, George.