“You may very well be right. The opposition to them is, I think, not a majority. But it is powerful. But, back to this Stapleton. Perseverance is not his long suit, I take it.”
“We were pretty close in the seminary, Excellency, but I haven’t seen him for quite some time. I knew him as a patient, thoughtful person. But others, who are more currently acquainted with him, say he’s changed. That his frustration is on the verge of-or already is-running over. Some even say they can picture him becoming extremist. I can’t see that myself. But, again, it’s been awhile.”
“I see.” Foley seemed lost in thought. Koesler did not intrude.
Abruptly, the archbishop looked sharply at Koesler, “I suppose,” Foley said, “you’re wondering what this is all about … my asking you to come down here and all?”
“Well, yes and no. I can easily see how you would be concerned about this business. We all are. You’d like all the information you can get. But others have better information than I have. For instance, the names of the possible suspects the police are working with; as I mentioned, I got those from Father Bash. In fact, that I could come up with the names was purely accidental. I just happened to be playing cards-which I very seldom do-when the subject came up. So, Archbishop, I can understand that you want as much information as you can gather. But, why me?”
“Well, I’ll tell you. Ever since the Cardinal mentioned your … uh … avocation of assisting the police, I’ve been looking into the matter-quietly and unobtrusively, mind you. Now I don’t doubt for an instant that your involvement in police work has come about just as you’ve explained: You’ve been drawn in by peculiar sets of circumstances-the right place at the right or wrong time sort of thing.
“However, after that I fear you are far too modest. Several times, or so I’ve been told, you’ve been much more than simply a source of information and authentication. Sometimes you have actually solved the case. Now don’t be denying it,” Foley quickly added.
“I suppose you might conclude that. I don’t look at it quite that way. But I guess it’s not worth arguing about. So even if we grant that I’ve contributed something of substance in the past, I’m still left wondering why you chose to call me in just now.”
“Two reasons. This case, by its very nature, needs someone like yourself to cut through all the mysterious nooks and crannies of our creaky old Church. Secondly-and for me more important-I’ve had a premonition for some time now. The premonition is that Mark-Cardinal Boyle-is among the intended victims this murderer is stalking.
“Now, I know very well that there’s no proof for such an idea. And you’re probably telling yourself that it’s just an old man’s hallucination. But it’s very real to me, Father. And I want to do everything in my power to make certain sure it doesn’t happen. Do you understand?”
In his younger years, Koesler very probably would have pooh-poohed something as vague as a premonition. Just as he had once dismissed intuition as nothing more than a hysterical reaction. But no more. He was older and, thank God, somewhat wiser.
“I understand,” Koesler said, “and I respect your premonition. But what makes you think that Cardinal Boyle could be in any danger?”
“To tell the truth, it came to me in prayer. I was saying my breviary the Other day and came across the saying, ‘Omnes scandalizabimini in me in nocte ista: quia scriptum est: Percutiam pastorem, et dispergentur oves.’”
Isn’t that nice, Koesler thought; he still reads the breviary in Latin. “‘All of you will be scandalized in me this night: because it is written: I will strike the shepherd and the sheep will be scattered,’” Koesler translated.
Isn’t that nice, Foley thought; he still remembers his Latin. “Yes,” Foley said, ‘I read the phrase and it transfixed me. It was as if the Lord himself were getting my attention. I don’t have any idea how many times I’ve read that text-hundreds. But this time, it was as if I were seeing it for the first time. It was such a unique experience for me! I prayed long over this experience. And the more I prayed, the more I associated the text with the Cardinal. And it fits rather nicely with one or the other of those fellows you said were under suspicion by the police.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, both of them, uh … Carson and, uh … Stapleton, seem bent on stirring up a ruckus to get the Church’s attention-though for different reasons, of course. Carson wants to go back to the thirteenth century, or at very least to the 1950s. And Stapleton wants to jump ahead into the twenty-first-or twenty-second-century. But to do either, they figure they’ve, got to stir things up-get the attention of the Church.
“What better way than to strike down the chief shepherd of the diocese? Do that and the sheep will be scattered, dispersed, all shaken up. He will have gotten the Church’s attention. Don’t you see?”
“Yes, Bishop, I see. But if that were the intention of whoever is doing this, why bother with Sister Joan or, particularly, Larry Hoffer? How would they fit into this scheme?”
Foley’s brow knit as he gnawed at his lower lip. “I don’t know. This is not a full-blown theory, you know, Father, it’s just a premonition. But a very strong one.
“Okay, Bishop, let me try to fill in the missing pieces.
“Suppose your premonition is accurate. Now, I agree that the murder of an ordinary, an archbishop and a Cardinal, would make the hierarchy wake up and pay attention. But what if these other two murders were simply a prelude to the gross act of attacking the archbishop? How much more terrifying this scenario would be. In effect, the attention of the sheep as well as the other shepherds would be attracted even before the perpetrator struck down the chief shepherd. What do you think?”
Foley regarded Koesler with seemingly greater interest. “See: There, I told you: You were being modest. You have got a knack for this sort of thing.”
“Bishop, I’m only fleshing out your idea. We both easily could be as wrong as wrong can be.”
“But what if my premonition and your added impressions are on the mark?”
“All right, what if they are?”
“Then that would bring me to what they like to call ‘the bottom line,’ the reason, the real reason, I asked you here.”
“And that?”
“That is that I very much want you to involve yourself in this case.”
“But I am-or have been. I told you about my meeting with Lieutenant Tully.”
“I know, Father, I know. And I’ve listened to you explain how you got involved in the past. You’ve been very passive up till now. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time. The present case is certainly no different from the previous cases. There you were, in your rectory, minding your own business, tending to your parishioners, when this Lieutenant Tully called on your knowledge of Church structure and the administration of this archdiocese. So you gave him what he was looking for-information. And now you’re finished. There will be no further involvement on your part … unless, of course, you again just happen to be in the right place at the right time.”
Koesler smiled. “I can’t dispute your assumption. But why are you making me feel guilty?”
“I don’t know why you’re feeling guilty, but I’m glad you are. Because I’m asking you to get involved in this case. As involved as. you possibly can be.”
Koesler hesitated. “Bishop, I’d like to do what you ask of me. But what you suggest sounds rather pushy. And that’s not my style.”