Magnificat (36 page)

“Cardinal Mendosa!” The reporter from the Los Angeles Times had his hand up and waving. “How much resistance do you expect from Catholics?”

“I don’t know,” answered Cardinal Mendosa at once. “I would hope there would be very little, but that is clearly unlikely.”

One of the local reporters came a step closer. “What about Father Cook? You stated that you would not let his death be forgotten.”

“Yes. And I won’t,” said Cardinal Mendosa. “Father Cook was the victim of precisely the kind of intolerance we have been discussing. His injuries ought never to have happened. I mourn his passing, and I have already arranged a memorial for him within the cathedral.”

“After what happened to Father Cook, aren’t you scared? Are you afraid someone might try to kill you, too?” shouted the AP&T stringer.

“Afraid?” Cardinal Mendosa regarded the newsman evenly. “I am a devout Christian, Mister Miller, and my own death is the least of my concerns.”

Miller persisted. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you’re making a target of yourself, does it?”

“I
am no more a target now than I ever was,” said Cardinal Mendosa, fighting down the images of his dreams. He lifted his hands. “Your ten minutes are almost up.”

“Cardinal Mendosa!” The chorus was ragged and determined.

“Wentworth from Dallas, and then Collins from Kansas City,” said Cardinal Mendosa, pointing to the two newspeople. “Go.”

“Cardinal Mendosa,” said Sally Wentworth as she held up her minirecorder, “four European news services have reported active conspiracies against the new Pope, and the police have confirmed two of them. Can you comment on this?”

“If Interpol and the Eurocops have uncovered groups whom they are convinced have been plotting against Zhuang, then I assume they know what they’re talking about. They aren’t the kinds who cry wolf. But I have to add that I have no direct knowledge of the situation, and I won’t speculate. I have every confidence in Interpol, Vatican security and the EECPA to deal with any and all threats to Zhuang’s safety.” This last was for diplomacy, not conviction. He had reported to Dmitri Karodin only the day before that Zhuang’s protection seemed inadequate, and he was not convinced that all necessary measures were being taken to guard her. He had hated how he felt, revealing that to the Russian.

Niles Collins nodded as Cardinal Mendosa directed his gaze to him. “I was wondering, Your Eminence, if you have any reason to believe that the College of Cardinals was influenced or manipulated in the election of this Pope? I know I’ve asked you this before, but the rumors haven’t—”

Cardinal Mendosa took a deep breath. “You’re right; I have answered this question before. And I’ll reiterate my answer. If some group was trying to influence the College of Cardinals, it did so without detection, without a single hint of its presence or its methods, and succeeded so thoroughly that every single Cardinal specified the same Chinese name—in Chinese, I might remind you—not once but twice. Frankly, I find it more convincing that this was the manifestation of the will of the Holy Spirit than the result of a conspiracy, no matter how subtle and clever.” He took one last question. “Hill. Go ahead.”

Tom Hill from Norman, Oklahoma, looked startled at this recognition. “Cardinal Mendosa,” he said, recovering quickly. “What do you plan to do once this new Pope is in office?”

“Whatever Zhuang, as Pope, wants me to do,” said Cardinal Mendosa, and went on to explain. “I was fortunate enough to be the one to meet her first. Perhaps as a result of that Her Holiness has been kind enough to trust me. I consider this a singular honor. As a Cardinal, I have an obligation to assist and advise her in any way she deems fitting. Her Holiness has not yet informed me what the way is to be.” He made a point of looking at his watch. “I’m afraid the time is up.”

There was another belligerent clamor of questions, but Cardinal Mendosa did not relent. He started back up the steps, and was annoyed when a number of the newspeople hurried to cut him off.

“Just one more, Your Eminence,” insisted a reporter from San Antonio.

“I have to be on a plane in a matter of hours, and there is a great deal of work I must finish before then,” said Cardinal Mendosa, hoping that someone from the cathedral staff would break this up. “I can’t spare much time. I made that clear when I agreed to answer questions this afternoon.”

“Do you think the Church can survive the Chinese woman’s Papacy?”

Cardinal Mendosa crossed his arms. “We’ve survived liars and villains and debauched atheists as Pope. We have endured rivalries and wars and assassinations and heresies. There have been Popes who were sexually perverted, incestuous, sadistic, dissipated, monomaniacal, corrupt, and insane. If none of these things has ruined us, I doubt one honorable and upright Chinese widow can destroy us.”

“Cardinal Mendosa! Cardinal Mendosa!” came the insistent shout.

This time he would not permit them to detain him, but made his way directly to the boarded-up doors of the cathedral.

* * *

Cardinal van Hooven was the host that afternoon, and although he feared the meeting would do little good, he was resigned to making the effort. Two dozen Cardinals were expected, so he had taken over one of the reading rooms of the library for the occasion. His assistant, Brother Crispino, had arranged the catering; but Cardinal van Hooven was not completely satisfied that the Franciscan’s arrangements would be adequate for the event, so he had arrived a little early to go over the plans with his staff.

“It might be better if you bring in another four or five of the upholstered chairs,” the Dutch Cardinal said to Carlo Urbi, who was in charge of preparations. “The comfortable wing-back ones. I don’t think we can ask the Cardinals to use wooden chairs.”

“Of course, Eminence,” said Carlo, implying a bow without actually executing one. He was the head of a large number of laity who staffed various functions of the Vatican, many of them sporting elaborate Papal titles.

“And it appears to me that the refreshments are not quite as generous as I would like. A wider selection of sweet biscuits would be welcome, and perhaps a few chocolate truffles, especially the ones flavored with Chambord. I leave it to your good taste to make the choices. Brother Crispino is an admirable assistant, but he tends to plan on a monk’s scale, and that will not do for this meeting. I am certain you appreciate my meaning.” Behind his thick lenses his blue eyes were as candid as a baby’s.

“I will attend to it at once, Eminence,” Carlo promised him.

“I’m sure you’ll do very well. And while you’re at it, I think it might be best to prepare some tea and coffee as well as wine, for the Asian Cardinals prefer tea, as you recall.” He took care not to make this seem to be a reprimand. “With everything that is going on, I am astonished you can manage as well as you do.”

“You are kind to tell me so, Eminence,” said Carlo, lowering his eyes in a respectful way.

“Nothing of the sort,” said Cardinal van Hooven. “I would be a poor manager if I was not aware of the superior work my staff is doing, and for this occasion, you are my staff.” He looked about the library once more. “I’ll leave this in your capable hands. And I will return in ten minutes, just ahead of the rest. If you have anything you require of me, phone my quarters and I’ll speak to you at once.” There was no particular reason for him to leave, but he was aware that his presence might seem judgmental to Carlo Urbi’s assistants. There was no difficulty in getting out of range for a time while his instructions were carried out. “If anyone arrives early, tell them I will be back shortly.”

“Of course, Eminence,” said Carlo, and waited until Cardinal van Hooven was out of the room to issue his orders to the rest of his staff.

Cardinal van Hooven reached his quarters less than two minutes later, and was surprised to find that Brother Crispino was not there. After looking into his sitting room, he frowned, wondering where the monk could be. He called out once and when he was not answered, he attempted to dismiss his questions from his mind, and went to review the latest information from Antwerp where there had been a riot the day before.

He was just finishing that report when Brother Gilpin arrived. “Eminence,” he said, blinking as if against sudden light.

“Brother Gilpin,” said Cardinal van Hooven as he put down the report. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Nothing of the kind, Eminence,” said Brother Gilpin.

Cardinal van Hooven was about to dismiss Brother Gilpin when it occurred to him to ask, “Have you seen Brother Crispino?”

“Brother Crispino?” Brother Gilpin repeated as if he did not know the word; he recovered quickly. “Not recently, no. An hour ago, a little more. He was just leaving here on an errand. He was going to the library to speak with Carlo Urbi about the refreshments for this afternoon. He ought to be there—”

“He has been there and gone,” said Cardinal van Hooven, wondering if Brother Crispino had taken it into his head to do more penance that afternoon; lately the Franciscan had been spending long hours in prayer and meditation as the time of Zhuang’s coronation grew near. “Has Father Maius mentioned Brother Crispino to you?” Father Maius, the chief of the Cardinal’s staff, was recovering from cataract surgery and had not been able to do much the last two weeks.

“Father Maius said nothing about Brother Crispino, not today,” said Brother Gilpin, who seemed more puzzled than before.

“Did either Brother Crispino or Father Maius mention any engagements to you?” Cardinal van Hooven asked. “With the coronation so soon, there are many things he might need to do.”

“Yes,” said Brother Gilpin, seizing on the remark. “Of course, you’re right. Brother Crispino must have another chore to do before he returns. He must have overlooked informing me. If he said anything to Father Maius, well.…” He indicated the room as a way to change the subject. “I’ll attend to things here, if you must attend the meeting with the…new Pope.”

“Her Holiness,” Cardinal van Hooven corrected gently. “You might as well get used to saying it.”

“Her Holiness,” Brother Gilpin repeated dutifully, though his throat pinched and his breath did not have enough air in it.

Cardinal van Hooven indicated his approval. “In a week or two it will seem quite natural. Practice it a few times and you will not find it too difficult to say.” He started toward the door. “I will be with the Cardinals in the library. Please don’t disturb me unless it is essential.”

“I won’t,” Brother Gilpin assured him, glad not to have to speak of Zhuang any longer.

“Thank you,” said Cardinal van Hooven. He left his quarters and retraced his path to the library, his attention already on the problems that had to be discussed during the afternoon.

As he reached the library, he found Cardinal Cadini and Cardinal Tayibha already there. Cardinal Cadini was dressed secularly and casually; Cardinal Tayibha wore clerical garb. The two were engrossed in a discussion about chocolate.

“I prefer a trace of bitterness, just the merest trace,” said Cardinal Cadini. “Otherwise the taste can be too overwhelming. I think it is the bitterness that makes the richness so satisfying.” His smile was delighted, and he indicated the tray of truffles Carlo Urbi had just set out. “If we cannot resolve our differences, at least we can enjoy comparing examples.”

“Certainly,” said Cardinal Tayibha, apparently unsure how to take Cardinal Cadini’s remarks. “Those are all bittersweet, aren’t they?”

“Yes, on the outside, but those first two rows have sweet fillings.” said Cardinal Cadini, looking up as Cardinal van Hooven approached. “There you are. I was beginning to think that everyone else might have decided to avoid this meeting. Most aren’t very pleased about it.”

“Most haven’t been pleased since we elected Zhuang,” said Cardinal van Hooven with tremendous neutrality.

“And Zhuang? She’ll be here, too?” asked Cardinal Tayibha.

“She’ll come a little later. Right now she’s closeted with Willie Foot about her first address to the people after her coronation. She wants to be certain she has everything right. She says she does not want to be misunderstood by anyone.” Cardinal van Hooven glanced at the table. “I see that Carlo has done his usual splendid job.”

“That he has,” said Cardinal Cadini, with an appreciative twinkle. “Not that I ought to have any of it, but.…” His shrug was philosophical. “At my age, there are not many pleasures left, and I like to make the most out of the few that remain.”

“Do you say such things to your physician?” asked Cardinal Tayibha, doing his unsuccessful best to conceal his shock.

“Naturally. If I did not, they would be more concerned than they are.” He looked back at Cardinal van Hooven. “You should be the one we speak to. Do you think that bittersweet chocolate is better than the rest? You Dutch are famous for your chocolates.”

Cardinal van Hooven shrugged. “I never really developed an opinion. I prefer gelato, myself.”

Cardinal Cadini laughed good-naturedly. “Very deft,” he approved, then turned to a more serious matter. “What about Cardinal Mendosa? Is he back yet?”

“Sometime this evening,” said Cardinal van Hooven. “I called Father Viernes earlier, to confirm the time he left Houston. The plane was delayed over an hour.”

“That must have delighted Charles,” said Cardinal Cadini with a wicked little smile. “I am pleased to hear he is returning. We need him with us.”

Cardinal Tayibha nodded emphatically. “It may be galling to some of the others, but Her Holiness relies on him, and without him she becomes apprehensive. We are not the only ones who take note of this. Many are aware of the…regard they have for one another, and they make assumptions.” He looked again at the lavish spread. “It is not wise for those of us in our position to have particular friendships.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s what’s going on,” said Cardinal Cadini. “They are friends, but there is nothing incorrect in that. They do not have a particular friendship, not the way you imply.” He looked toward the door as Cardinal Llanos and Cardinal Bakony came into the library. He inclined his head as a greeting and went on to Cardinal Tayibha, “It’s no great secret that Cardinal Mendosa likes women, but he is not one to compromise the Pope because she is a woman. He has too much feeling for her to do that.”