by Robin Cook
Gathering his wits with some difficulty, James broke off eye contact with the youth and passed into his office. Quickly, he slipped behind his massive oak desk to catch his breath, knowing that Father Maloney would undoubtedly momentarily materialize. The big question in James’s mind was whether or not the boy was someone chosen as the possible interventionist. If so, James’s immediate impact was off the charts, which was something he was hoping for. Yet as positive as that was, there was a problem. The individual was too young, a mere boy, and James asked himself if he could possibly entrust someone so immature with such an important task.
As James expected, the door opened after a sharp knock, and in stepped the secretary. Carrying a folder, Father Maloney quickly crossed to the desk and handed it to James. “His name is Luke Hester, and yes, he was definitely named after the evangelist Luke.”
“He is striking,” James said. “I have to commend you on that, but isn’t he too young for a theological emergency? There is going to be a need for some innate psychology.”
“If you check the rapid biography I’ve thrown together, you will learn that he is older and therefore hopefully wiser than his youthful, angelic looks suggest. He is twenty-five years old, about to be twenty-six in a matter of months.”
“My word,” James exclaimed. He placed the folder on his desk and opened the cover and stared at the date of birth. “I never would have guessed.”
“There was a kind of mild hormonal problem that had never been investigated,” Father Maloney stated. “But that problem has been attended to and his hormones are now in the normal range. The brothers where he lives had him evaluated and treated a few years ago here in the city.”
“I see,” James said, rapidly glancing through the biography and learning that Luke was an only child of a devout Catholic mother and lapsed Catholic father. The boy had run away from home to join a Marian society called the Brotherhood of the Slaves of Mary when he turned eighteen.
“Have you spoken with him?”
“I have. I believe he comes the closest to the individual you described last night than anyone I’ve ever met. Charismatic is not a strong enough word. He’s also disarmingly intelligent.”
“Is he committed to the Virgin Mary?”
“Totally, heart and soul. He is a walking, talking homily to the Blessed Virgin.”
“Thank you, Father Maloney. Why don’t you have him come in.”
A half-hour later, James was as convinced as Father Maloney. From James’s perspective, Luke couldn’t have been better qualified if he’d been sent from central casting. His relatively short life had not been easy, caught among an alcoholic, abusive father and a victimized, overindulgent mother and a pair of rural priests who had failed him. James hated hearing about the priests, especially having heard a similar story the previous night from Jack about Shawn. But what he did like hearing was Luke’s description of finding the Virgin Mary and how she had saved him as well as returned to him his trust in the Church itself.
Once he was convinced that Luke was a good candidate to be the needed savior, James switched the conversation to the problem posed by Shawn and the ossuary, but not before extracting from Luke the solemn oath of secrecy based on his love for the Blessed Virgin.
“Appropriately enough, the problem involves the Mother of God,” James said, as soon as Luke had pledged his word. James went on to tell the story of the discovery of the ossuary, his belief that it was fake, its illegal transport to the United States, and its recent opening. He then described Shawn’s commitment to damage the reputation of the Virgin by suggesting the bones in the ossuary were hers, and thereby discrediting the infallibility of the pope. “It will be a devastating rebuke to both Mary and the Church,” James stated. “And only you will stand between Dr. Daughtry and such an abomination.”
“Am I worthy?” Luke questioned, in a deeper voice than one would expect based on his youthful appearance.
“As archbishop, I believe you are worthy and uniquely qualified because of your veneration of the Blessed Virgin. Although it will not be an easy task, as I believe your opponent has the help and attention of Satan, it is imperative you succeed.”
“How do you see me accomplishing this task?” Luke asked, in a tone belying his youthful appearance.
James sat back and thought for a moment. In truth, he’d not thought past finding the perfect person, but now that he believed he might have, he tried to think of the details. The first, of course, was to get Luke and Shawn together for an extended period of time. Only then would Luke have the opportunity to convey to Shawn the devastation he personally would suffer if Shawn goes along with his publishing plans.
“What I will do is get you invited as a houseguest at the Daughtrys’ home in the Village. That will give you access and time. You were told you’d be here in the city for a week or so, correct?”
“That is correct, but I am concerned about such a long stay, Your Eminence. I have not allowed myself to be in the occasion of sin since I moved in with the brothers.”
“You’ll be too busy to worry about being in the occasion of sin,” James assured him. “As I said, this will not be an easy assignment. In fact, it may not work, but it is imperative that you try your best. I tried, but I have failed. I’m entirely confident, however, that in his heart of hearts, Dr. Daughtry is a devoted Catholic. He just needs to get back in touch with that aspect of himself.”
“What if Dr. Daughtry and his wife repudiate me?”
“That’s a risk we have to take,” James said. “I still have some power with my friend, which I will try to use to advantage to keep him from spurning you. Besides, I’m going to be completely up front with him by telling him exactly why you are there, so there will be no surprises. God has picked you to be the savior of Blessed Mary’s reputation and her standing in the Church as being free of sin and therefore worthy to be assumed into heaven body and soul.”
“When can I start this mission?” Luke asked, eager to begin.
“I believe you can start later today,” James said. “Here’s the plan. I will have one of my secretaries take you over to the cathedral, where I would like you to pray for guidance from the Lord for this role you are about to undertake for Mary and the Church’s benefit. While you are there, I will go out and prepare your reception. I could do it by phone, but I think in person will be better. If I’m unsuccessful getting you invited to spend the night and hopefully a good portion of the week at the Daughtrys’, then you will stay here with us in our guest room. Fair enough?”
“I’m grateful to be given this opportunity, Your Eminence.”
“It is I who am grateful,” James said, picking up his phone and asking Father Maloney to come in.
Although still not positive this plan B was going to work, James felt better than he had since the arrival of the ossuary. At least he had a plan and was doing something. Returning to his private apartment, James changed back into the civilian clothes he wore the night before at the Daughtrys’. He could even recognize an olfactory reminder of the evening’s wood fire on his sweater. It was a pleasant aroma, which reminded him of his retreat at Green Pond.
Without offering any explanation to Father Karlin, who was sitting just outside, James left his office, descended to the first floor, and used the indoor connection between the residence and the cathedral for the third time that day. When it was as cold as it was that day, it was a welcome luxury. Halfway he met up with Father Maloney, who said he’d deposited Luke in the central nave.
“You did fine work finding Luke,” James commented. “If what I’m trying to do happens, we will all be in your debt. He is exactly what I had in mind.”
“I am pleased to be of service, Your Eminence,” Father Maloney said. Lifting his head to make himself slightly taller, he strode away toward the residence.
As James passed through the cathedral, he made it a point to catch a brief glimpse of his new monk warrior. He was, as instructed, kneeling in prayer with his blue eyes clos
ed but with the same beatific smile on his face. As if attracted like flies to honey, a group of people were clustered near him, making James wonder if they’d been drawn to him or he to them.
Emerging incognito from the front of the cathedral directly onto Fifth Avenue, James waved for a cab. Climbing in, he asked for 26th Street and First Avenue. He was pleased not to be recognized coming out of his own church.
With minimum traffic, the cab made good time. En route, he pulled out his cell phone and called Jack. As if pouncing on the call, Jack answered before the first ring had been completed. “That was fast,” James said. “Were you waiting for my call?”
“I thought it was going to be my wife, Laurie,” Jack said.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Not at all. In fact, I’m relieved. When I left this morning, our new baby was unhappy. I was concerned I was about to learn it had worsened. What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m with Sana and Shawn here at the OCME DNA building.”
“I was hoping that would be the case.”
“Why is that?”
“Simply because I’m on my way there as we speak. Ask Shawn if it is okay and if I’m welcome.”
Jack went off the line. James could hear him ask Shawn, and he could hear Shawn’s enthusiastic acquiescence. “Did you hear that?” Jack asked, coming back.
“I did.”
“When will you be here? I’ll have to come down to get you through security.”
“Rather quickly,” James said. “I’m in a taxi on Park Avenue passing Thirty-sixth Street at this very moment.”
“I’ll start down now,” Jack said.
Within five minutes, James’s taxi was cruising down 26th Street. James had the driver cross First Avenue and drop him off at the DNA building’s pullout. Jack was waiting just inside the glass revolving door.
“Thanks again for giving me a ride home last night,” Jack said.
“It was my pleasure,” James answered.
After easily passing through security with Jack vouching for James, the two rode up in the elevator.
“I’ve found my zealot to work on Shawn,” James announced as they exited on the eighth floor.
“Really!” Jack commented. He was surprised. “So quick. When you described the kind of person you would be looking for, all I could think of was Good luck. I thought it would take months.”
“I have resourceful secretaries.”
“You must.”
They came to the door to the laboratory Sana and Shawn had been assigned, and Jack knocked. Shawn, who was sitting at the center table with his back to the door, leaped up and opened it.
James entered with some trepidation of what he would find, and his fears were quickly validated. In front of him were the bones of the ossuary laid out on the table in anatomical positions. Even though he trusted in his heart they were not the bones of the Blessed Virgin, having them so irreverently displayed seemed to him a sacrilege similar to how he felt when he’d watched Shawn and Sana dump the ossuary into the dirty trunk of the taxi. James found himself trembling.
“What on earth is the matter?” Shawn questioned, sensing James’s discomfiture.
“These bones,” James managed. “It seems so disrespectful. It’s like staring at someone naked.”
“Should I cover them with some gowns while you are here?” Shawn questioned.
“It’s not necessary,” James insisted. “It was just the initial shock.” Instead of looking at the bones, James directed his attention to Shawn’s work area at the end of the table, where he had the first of the three scrolls immobilized and his Rube Goldberg cold-humidifying device set up along with a stack of glass panes. It was obvious that his unrolling the scroll was proceeding at a snail’s pace.
“Are you having trouble?” James asked, bending over to look at the script on the several pages that had been unrolled.
“It’s a painstaking process,” Shawn agreed.
“It’s very beautiful Aramaic script,” James commented. “Have you learned any more?”
“After the first two very enlightening pages, the text has devolved to an autobiography of Simon’s childhood and his early progress of becoming a magician. It seems that he had very early success.”
“How’s Sana making out with her mitochondrial DNA work?” James asked. He looked through the glazed door into the gowning room and then through a second glazed door into the laboratory itself. James could see Sana scurrying about with an intent expression on her face.
“If you want to go in, you’ll have to gown and glove and put on a hood. She’s being very careful about contamination. As far as her progress is concerned, I haven’t the faintest idea. When we arrived this morning, she went directly in there after changing into her scrubs. My sense is that she’s doing just fine. If not, I’m sure she would have been back in here to complain. Thanks to Jack, she’s got a terrific lab to work in, with all the latest equipment.”
James rapped loudly on the gowning-room glass door in hopes of attracting Sana’s attention. He could tell it was immediately successful, because she suddenly stopped moving and lifted her head as if listening. James rapped on the glass again and caught her attention by waving. She waved back. Then James waved for her to come back into the outer office, which she immediately did.
“Good morning, James,” Sana said as she poked her hooded head into the office. “Or is it afternoon already?”
“It’s afternoon,” James said. “And would you mind joining us for a few moments? I have a proposition to share with you people.”
Sana hesitated, realizing she’d have to change her scrubs if she passed beyond the gowning room. Recognizing that was hardly much of an inconvenience, she stepped beyond the door she was holding ajar and let it close behind her.
“What kind of proposition?” Shawn asked warily.
“Yes, what do you have in mind?” Sana questioned, while pulling off her hood.
“First, let me ask how you are doing in there?” James questioned. “I see Shawn is making headway, if not at the speed he’d prefer.”
“I’m doing extremely well,” Sana said. “The lab is truly twenty-first-century and conveniently designed to maximize productivity. I’m already going to be at the extraction phase this afternoon with the centrifuges. Right now my pulp sample is in the solvents with the detergent to break open the cells and the proteinases to denature the proteins. At this rate, I could be at the polymerase chain reaction, or PCR, stage as early as tomorrow.”
“No need to fill me in on the details,” James said. “It’s all Greek to me!”
Everyone laughed, even James. “Second of all, I’d like to thank you for such a wonderful evening last night, and say that the food was out of this world.”
“Thank you, Father,” Sana said, blushing to a degree.
“I wish I could say the same about the company,” James added, with a chuckle to indicate he was trying to be humorous. “I’m joking, of course, but I was disappointed to learn that my wish for the Blessed Virgin to be left out of this affair is not going to happen. At least not at this time. Am I right in this assumption, Shawn?”
“Absolutely. I don’t know how to be more clear. Last night I must confess I was bombed, and for the life of me I cannot remember everything I said. For that I apologize, but I believe I was quite clear about my intentions in relation to the ossuary and its contents.”
“Clear, indeed,” James said. “Clear enough for me to spend a good amount of time thinking and praying for guidance after leaving your home last night about what I should do to try to change your mind. First of all, I personally have given up trying to do it myself. We are too familiar with each other, as evidenced by your calling me lardo.”
“Good God!” Shawn cried, slapping his forehead. “Don’t tell me I called you lardo. How disrespectful. I’m terribly sorry, old friend.”
“I’m afraid you did,” James said. “But you are forgiven, as I have do
ne far too little to diminish its sad appropriateness. Going beyond that, I have decided to allow you both to continue your studies of the ossuary contents, with one caveat.”
A small, derisive smile appeared on Shawn’s face. “What makes you think you are allowing us to do our work? From my perspective, your wishes are relatively irrelevant, although, being a realist, a call from you to Jack’s boss might be sufficient to put us out on the street. But if that happens, we will go elsewhere.”
“Sometimes I am truly surprised at your naïveté,” James said. “First of all, you still don’t seem to recognize that ultimately the proof of these bones being those of the Blessed Virgin must rely on Simon Magus telling his assistant, Saturninus, that it was so. From a theological perspective, which is what this is all about, you are basing your argument on the worst possible source. If all Simon wanted to do was trade the bones for Peter’s healing powers, there would have been no need to make the extra effort to get the real ones. Any female bones would have sufficed, which is what I believe these bones are. They are the bones of a random first-century female, not the Blessed Virgin’s.”
“I counter that argument with Saturninus’s statement about Simon being disappointed that the bones themselves didn’t mystically convey to him the healing power. If they weren’t definitely the Virgin’s bones, he wouldn’t have suspected or hoped that they would have done the trick themselves.”
“I’ve given up debating this affair,” James said, holding up his hand. “As I said earlier, I have relinquished trying to change your mind myself. But as for my power to stop you, consider this. Unless you accept the caveat I alluded to, I plan to go to the authorities today. That sounds like a desperate move, but I am desperate for the Church and myself. I will declare the ossuary a hoax and you a thief so that instead of being an accessory, I will more likely be considered a hero for risking myself to expose this faithless attack on the Church.”
