The Guardian (8 page)

The house was used for regular get-togethers. Many of the rich, prominent, definitely
not
Catholic community of Rome found themselves here on most weekends drinking and partying. It was more or less an extremely upper-crust, high-end, invitation-only nightclub. Cardinal Wickham found that he could make a substantial amount of money leasing out his place to these people who would rather have anonymity than be associated with the everyday nightclub scene. These people, different ones from time to time, would rent the house for two, sometimes three days a week. The usual going rate was five thousand dollars. That also included a cleanup fee.

Today was one of those days. A “client” had just left. There would be a get-together tonight. The arrangements had been made over the phone several weeks ago. Today was payday. The client, an attractive brunette in her late fifties, showed up, paid the bill, got the keys, and left just as quickly as she came. She extended an invitation to him and promised him more fun than he had probably ever had in his entire life. He politely declined, although a night of old-fashioned, worldly fun sounded good to him right now. He thanked the woman and showed her out. He apologized for the hurry, but he was expecting more guests any minute.

The first of his guests had just walked through the archway that led into the dining room where he now sat. The younger, gray-haired man said nothing as he entered. He simply walked into the room and took a seat, the same one he usually took at these meetings.

“Good day, Joseph,” said Cardinal Wickham.

“Hello, Louis,” Cardinal Joseph McCoy answered. “Who was the hottie in the Porsche that I passed on the way in here? One of your extracurricular activities, I assume?”

Cardinal Wickham dismissed this with a wave of the hand. “Not that it’s any of your business who I visit or spend my time with, but no. Not this one.”

“Too bad,” said Joseph. “She was pretty easy to look at.”

“So, Joseph, how are things in the archives?” Cardinal Wickham smiled as he said this.

“Enchanting.” He scowled. “Where is everyone else? I have other things to do today.”

“Books to shelve? Manuscripts to catalog?” It was nasty to tease the younger man like this, but it was so entertaining to see the red flush of anger darken his face.

Joseph was a very prominent, highly respected cardinal at the Vatican and had spent the last three years of his life stuck in the Vatican library. He was by no means a historian. Nor did he have a love for books or the Dewey decimal system, for that matter. He simply was the newest man in the order, and that’s where Wickham had stuck him.

Joseph glowered at his superior but didn’t respond. Wickham flicked his fingers in the direction of the door. It was no fun if they didn’t take the bait. “They’ll be here. Don’t worry.” He checked his watch. It was only twelve thirty, six thirty in the United States. Jonathan should be taking care of some business right about now. “Besides, Joseph, once again you are early. You’re always early. I don’t particularly have a problem with that. But you really must stop complaining about no one else being here when you show up thirty minutes before you’re even supposed to be here.”

“Why don’t you like me?”

“I’m sorry, Joseph, I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s not a hard question. Why don’t you like me?”

It was like talking to a petulant schoolgirl. “Joseph, my brother, it’s not that I don’t like you. I do. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. It’s just that … well … you whine a lot.”

“Whine? What do you mean, I whine?”

“There! That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re whining. Right now.”

“I hardly see how asking a question or two is whining.”

“Call it whatever you want. The fact of the matter is we need you in the archives. Information is power. I know it’s not glamorous. I know it’s boring. Long before I was headmaster of this brotherhood, I was in the archives myself. Believe it or not, there is a ton of good that can be done from there. You just have to assert yourself. Be creative. Look for things that aren’t there. That is precisely how I got to where I am today. I spent several years in those archives. Don’t you realize that if the scroll isn’t found before my time, someone else will have to head up this task? You, being in a place where all the information is, are the prime candidate. I didn’t just sign you on to this order. I recruited you, not Harold, or Ibrahim, or any of the others. I just sent them after you.”

Joseph stared at Cardinal Wickham, speechless.

“You see, Joseph. I know more about you than you could ever imagine.” Wickham placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands. “For instance, I know that your real name isn’t McCoy.” He watched as Joseph shifted in his seat. “I know that you aren’t from Ireland. You’re from Canada. I also know that one night when you were sixteen years old you got drunk with some of your friends and decided to rob a liquor store.” He watched now as Joseph’s face turned pale. “I also know that it was
your
gun that went off. Oh, I’m sure it was an accident like you told the police.

Still, a woman and her little girl lost their lives that night. Didn’t they, Joseph?”

Cardinal Joseph McCoy sat silent, suspicious. Wickham could almost imagine what must be going through the man’s mind. What was the angle? Was he in trouble? What did Wickham want?

It wasn’t so much a matter of what he wanted, but what he knew Joseph wanted. And that would make all the difference. “You desire the papacy.”

Joseph shifted in his seat again and started to speak. Wickham gave a sharp shake of his head. He’d heard a noise. Someone else was here. The rest of the Brotherhood had arrived. This would have to wait.

“Don’t worry, my friend.” Cardinal Wickham smiled. “Your secrets are safe with me. And like I said before, information is the key to power.”

“… And so My brothers and sisters, let us not neglect the poor and needy, but rather sacrifice ourselves to help them, just as our Lord and Savior, Jesus, did. My peace I give you. Go in peace. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

Father Ruiz made the sign of the cross and finished Mass as he waited for the procession that began making its way out of the sanctuary. The altar boys led the way down the center of the cathedral. Father Ruiz and Father Vin followed behind.

Father Vin motioned his head toward the back door to her as he passed. She waited until the other parishioners began to leave and then stood.

Her knees were stiff from kneeling during the service. Being a soccer player definitely was not conducive to Catholic worship.

She thought about what she’d just witnessed. It was her first Mass. It was beautiful. Most of the Mass was spoken in Spanish. Some, however, had been in English. Father Ruiz explained to the congregation that they had some American visitors and he did it for them. No one seemed to mind. Most of them spoke English anyway.

Given the few times she’d been to church in her life, Anna never experienced anything like a Catholic Mass. She didn’t know really what to think. It was night and day different from the Baptist church where she and her parents went on the occasional Easter or Christmas. Still, it was beautiful.

Fathers Vin and Ruiz were waiting for her at the back of the church. She stood off to the side until the last little old lady made her way up to the priests. She gave Father Ruiz a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then, she turned to Father Vin and said, “It was a pleasure having you to worship with us Father Marcella.”

“My pleasure, miss …”

“Ruiz. Isabella Ruiz. I am Manuel’s mother.” She nodded to Father Ruiz.

“Ah yes, Mrs. Ruiz. So very nice to meet you.” Father Vin stooped down to give the lady a peck on the cheek.

“Mamma, I am afraid I have some business to attend to with Father Vin. Please excuse us. I will be home for our brunch in a little while.” Father Ruiz helped his mother down the front stairs of the cathedral and said good-bye. Once she was on her way, he turned his attention back to his mysterious guests. “We can go back to my chambers if you wish.”

Father Vin nodded his appreciation. “That would be best, I think.”

Father Ruiz led Anna and Father Vin back down the hallway they came from and into the rear of the church. They entered the private chambers where Father Ruiz offered them some pastries and coffee. Though neither was very hungry, they both accepted. Once they were all seated, Father Ruiz began.

“Father Vin, I must say I am impressed with your adapting to the Spanish so quickly.”

“Well, I must admit I did take several years of it in school, and in seminary. It’s just been awhile. I thought it would come back to me quickly. At least I hoped!” Father Vin chuckled.

“You did well! I enjoyed ministering with you.” Silence hung in the air for several seconds before Father Ruiz spoke again. “This other matter you mentioned earlier …”

“Well,” Father Vin began, “I know Thomas spent several days down here. I was a very special friend of his. You might even say that I was his protector. Right before he came here, we got separated. Unfortunately, I was unable to meet him here. I don’t know how much you and Thomas talked, but I do know that right before he passed away, he gave me this.” Father Vin reached inside his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that had one line scribbled on it:

Father Manuel Ruiz, St. Anna Cathedral, Caracas, Venezuela

“I don’t know why he would have us contact you, but I
do
know what it’s about. I assume you do, too.”

Father Ruiz studied the face of the man sitting across from him. He looked over at Anna. “How do I know for sure you are who you say you are?”

Anna quickly reached for her purse to pull out identification but stopped suddenly, remembering she no longer had any. “Please, Father Ruiz, if you have any information for us …”

“You do understand,” Father Ruiz continued, “Thomas was in fear for his life. He only confided in me as a priest. We talked. I counseled him with his spiritual walk. Nothing more. I am afraid he made no mention of the two of you.”

“Are you sure?” Anna asked. “He didn’t say anything to you about a scr—”

“Anna—” Father Vin quickly cut her off.

“Father, I’m sorry we’ve wasted your time. Anna and I will be going.” He stood to leave.

“Just a second, please.” Father Ruiz motioned for him to be seated again. “Anna, your grandfather did talk about a grandchild. He said she was a little girl, and he told me about the last time he had seen her. Do you know what I am speaking about? Perhaps you’re the grandchild he spoke of?”

So here it was. A test. If she passed, they’d get what they needed. If not, so much for the scroll.

“Well, let’s see.” Anna tried to remember that day with her grandfather at the church. Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t a memory that she thought about often. “I think we had gone to church that morning. It was kinda weird though. Grandpa said he wanted to stick around after the service and talk to the preacher.”

“And did you?” Father Ruiz asked.

“I think so,” Anna said. “I mean we talked to
someone
, just not the preacher.”

“What do you mean?” This is what Father Ruiz was waiting to hear.

“Well, we waited for about thirty minutes after the service. We just sat there talking. I remember Grandpa saying that we were going to meet someone very special. I wanted to know who. He said it was a dear friend of his and he wanted to talk to me. Then I remember the preacher coming back inside where we were sitting. He told my grandfather that ‘he’ was here. I remember the preacher telling my grandfather that everything was ‘all clear.’ He told my grandfather that he and the elders would be outside, surrounding the sanctuary. I thought that was weird. So I asked my grandfather what that meant. He told me that those men, the preacher and the elders, were going to go outside and say a special prayer for us because I was very special and ‘it never hurt having people pray for you.’ That’s what he said.”

Anna couldn’t believe the details she remembered now. She hadn’t thought of that day for years. She was amazed at how much she was actually recalling.

“So what happened then?” Father Ruiz leaned forward, an eager light in his face.

“Then a man in a white robe, kinda like yours,” she pointed to the priest’s robe hanging on the wall, “came in through a side door. I remember that as soon as he came in, a storm must’ve moved in. I could see shadows passing over the stained glass windows. I asked my grandfather if those were clouds. ‘Cause if so, we needed to hurry up. I wasn’t getting my new dress rained on. He told me not to worry. He said they weren’t clouds, but we did need to hurry. Then the man that had just walked in came over to us and shook my grandfather’s hand. He bent down and stuck his hand out to me. I remember not looking at him because I was still worried about those clouds. I kept my eyes on that stained glass. The other man saw me staring at the windows and told me not to worry. ‘They’ couldn’t hurt me. I remember thinking,
What’s that supposed to mean?
I finally took my eyes off the windows and looked at the man. He had such a friendly voice. I remember now. He had this crooked smile—”

Anna stopped midsentence. She looked at Father Vin, who was smiling the exact crooked smile she had just been talking about. “Oh my—You gotta be kidding me! It was you! You were there! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Father Vin spoke for the first time since Anna started telling her story. “I would have eventually, Anna. I just needed to let you commit to all of this before I said anything. That’s all. I couldn’t influence your decision.”

Anna was almost laughing now. She knew as soon as she had met Father Vin there was a connection there. She just couldn’t put her finger on it. Now it all came back to her.

“Please, Anna, go on,” said Father Ruiz.

“Okay. Well, like I said, Father Vin told me that he and my grandfather wanted to say a prayer for me. They asked if they could do that. Grandpa just said it never hurts to have someone praying for you. Besides, I was nervous about those shadows. So we went up to the ah … altar? Is that what you call it?” Both priests nodded in affirmation. “Yes, the altar. We knelt, and Vin took out some kind of oil and put it on my forehead. I particularly remember not liking that. It was going to get in my bangs, and Mom really made my hair look nice that morning. Then the weirdest thing happened. After we prayed, Father Vin stood up and started talking in some different language that I didn’t—”