The Secret Cardinal

23

Donoher displayed his identification to the security guards at the entrance to the cardiac care unit. Although most press members respected the needs of the patient and satisfied themselves with updates from the hospital’s public relations staff, there were some paparazzi who would employ any guise to get a photograph of a cardinal stricken ill during the conclave.

Once stabilized in the emergency room, Gagliardi was admitted to the CICU — the cardiac intensive care unit. The nurse station was an island in the center surrounded by glass-walled patient rooms. Cleared to enter the unit, Donoher was led by the head nurse to where the Sicilian cardinal lay under careful observation.

Through the glass, Donoher saw that Gagliardi was with another visitor — a man in his early forties who bore a strong resemblance to the Sicilian churchman, equally large-framed if much more physically fit. The man was talking on a cell phone.

‘If you’ll wait here a moment, Your Eminence,’ the nurse said, ‘I must have a word with the cardinal’s other visitor.’

Donoher could not hear the exchange, but the nurse was clearly irritated with the man’s use of a cell phone inside the hospital. Unrepentant, the man ended his call and slipped the phone into the pocket of his leather briefcase.

‘You may go in now,’ the nurse told Donoher as she exited the room, satisfied that order had been restored.

Gagliardi reclined in bed, his body connected by wires and tubes to a dozen different medical devices. He was still ashen and appeared old and frail. The cardinal’s other visitor leaned over him as Donoher entered the room.

‘Uncle, you have a visitor,’ he said in a warm, friendly tone.

Gagliardi opened his eyes and smiled weakly. Donoher wrapped his hands around one of Gagliardi’s — it felt cool and clammy.

‘It is very kind of you to come,’ Gagliardi said, his voice a hoarse whisper filled with emotion, ‘especially at such a difficult time.’

‘Wasn’t it you who once told me that caring for the sick is more important than paperwork? The others would be here as well if they could, but I am the only one permitted to leave the area of the conclave. Know that their prayers are with you, my friend.’

‘I know, and mine are with them.’ Gagliardi lifted his other hand feebly, pointing in the direction of the young man. ‘This is my nephew, Guglielmo Cusumano. He’s an antique book dealer here in Rome.’

‘An honor to meet you, Your Eminence,’ Cusumano said before kissing Donoher’s ring. ‘My uncle speaks very highly of you.’

‘It is good of you to be here. Family is very important at times like this.’

‘Go finish that call to your mother,’ Gagliardi suggested. ‘I believe the Camerlengo and I have some matters to discuss privately.’

Donoher nodded, and Cusumano took the hint. ‘I’ll be back in the morning, Uncle, in time to meet with your doctors.’

‘He is a good boy,’ Gagliardi said, after Cusumano departed.

‘What have your doctors told you?’

‘Nothing I haven’t heard before. A lifetime of bad habits has finally caught up with me. The doctors are still running tests, but apparently three more arteries in my heart are blocked. Had the doctors not been standing by outside the chapel, I would now be dead.’

‘Then perhaps it’s not your time.’

‘That remains to be seen. The last time they opened my chest, the surgeon offered me a lifetime guarantee on his work. At this moment, I am not comforted. The message from His Holiness was quite a surprise.’

‘To us all,’ Donoher agreed.

‘Can you get Yin out of China?’

‘I believe our chances are very good.’

‘When?’

‘It could be as early as tomorrow.’

Gagliardi paused, momentarily lost in thought. ‘Do you think Yin would make a good Pope?’

‘Having never met the man, I honestly don’t know. But His Holiness found him worthy of being a cardinal, if only in his heart, so I suppose that means he’s as capable as any of us. In truth, I don’t think it’s an issue.’

‘But Yin received the second highest number of votes, almost a tie with Magni.’

‘Yet neither was even close to being elected. I don’t know how to read the votes for Yin. Were they sympathy or a sign? The real test will come in the next ballots, which, sadly, I have to return to prepare for. Before I go, do you wish to be anointed?’

‘I do,’ Gagliardi replied.

Donoher draped a stole across his shoulders, then placed a small vial and a golden pyx on the table beside Gagliardi’s bed. The vial contained the oil of the infirm from Saint Peter’s Basilica and the pyx — a thin, coin-shaped vessel — held Holy Communion.

With hands folded and head bowed, Donoher began, ‘In the name of the Father…’