The Secret Cardinal

42

‘Don’t you make a fine-looking priest,’ Donoher declared, finding some amusement in Grin’s obvious discomfort.

It was near dawn, and Grin stood in the foyer of the Vatican Mosaic Studio dressed in a black cassock with a traditional Roman collar encircling his neck. The long sleeves covered his whimsical tattoo, and only the tips of his leopard-print Chuck Taylor canvas basketball sneakers peeked out beneath the cassock’s hem.

‘I’m sure I do, but either the Church’s manpower shortage is worse than reported, or you really need to upgrade your background-check procedures.’

‘As I recall, Saint Ignatius Loyola lived a very full life before changing his ways,’ Donoher said as he eyed the fit of Grin’s cassock. ‘Regardless, you are more believable as a priest than a Swiss Guard.’

‘Dressed like this — I’ll bet God’s going to zap me as soon as he has a clear shot.’

‘My personal view of God is that of a just being who combines infinite forgiveness with a wry sense of humor.’

‘If this getup helps our cause, I can put up with a few guffaws from the Almighty. So, the chapel is clean?’

‘As the proverbial whistle,’ Donoher replied, disappointed. ‘No sign of any clandestine devices was found inside or out.’

‘Which shifts suspicion onto the cardinals. It’s still possible we’re up against a new technology.’

Donoher nodded. ‘Yes, but as your hero Occam would suggest, we must look to the more likely cause first, no matter how unpalatable it may be. While the conclave is in session, I expect you and the sweeper teams to leave no stone unturned.’

‘You realize this search will take time. What happens if a new Pope is elected before we have our answers?’ Grin asked.

‘Then we may never know if a cardinal has indeed betrayed the Church.’

After the cardinal electors vacated their rooms, Grin met in the lobby of Domus Sanctae Marthae with several plainclothes members of the Swiss Guard and the two trustworthy technicians specified in the Apostolic Constitution to assist the Camerlengo in ensuring the secrecy and security of the conclave. The two technicians, Aldo and Tommaso, looked tired from a long night of sweeping the Sistine Chapel and adjacent rooms in the palace for electronic listening devices. The guards detailed to the search snapped to attention as Grin approached.

‘That’s okay, guys,’ he told them. ‘Who’s in charge?’

A lean young man with chiseled features and hair the color of straw stepped forward. ‘I am. Lieutenant Tag Jordan.’

‘Okay, Tag, please tell your men to take it down a notch. I appreciate your professionalism and all, but it’s not required.’

‘But it is,’ Jordan countered. ‘You represent the Camerlengo, and he is the caretaker of the Church. We will treat you no differently from a personal representative of the Pope. If it will make you more comfortable, I can have the men stand at ease.’

‘Please.’

Jordan issued the order in crisp German, and the soldiers spread their feet shoulder-width apart and folded their hands behind their backs. Each stood so ramrod straight that plumb bobs could have been calibrated against them for accuracy.

‘Gentlemen,’ Grin began, ‘we have a lot of ground to cover and not much time to do it. Also keep in mind that the rooms we’re searching belong to the cardinal electors, so treat their personal property with the appropriate respect. This respect complements another aspect of our search — we don’t want anyone to know we were here, so the rooms are to be left as we found them. Getting down to particulars, we are looking for any device capable of sending or receiving a message. If you find anything, notify the sweepers or me and we’ll come check it out. The sweepers and I will be circulating through the building looking for any listening devices that may have been planted. Any questions?’

There were none.

‘Good,’ Grin said. ‘Let’s get to work.’