“How was the archbishop when you spoke with him?” Jack asked. He could hardly imagine what James was thinking. Jack was sure he must be devastated.
“He was not a happy camper,” Lou admitted. “In fact, he was devastated,” he added, as if reading Jack’s inner thoughts. “Right after I told him, he couldn’t talk for several minutes.”
Jack didn’t respond but rather just shook his head.
“Well, I came over here to watch you do the posts,” Lou said. “Just in case some unexpected information becomes available, which you, in particular, are famous for.”
“Who’s doing the three burned cases?” Jack called over to Riva.
“I am,” Riva answered. “But if you want one or two or all three, just let me know.”
“No, thank you!” Jack responded. He had already made up his mind to help James rather than Lou by gathering up all the evidence of the ossuary affair and getting it into James’s hands. “There you go, Lou,” Jack said to his detective friend. “Dr. Mehta is one of the best. I’m certain you will find her more charming than I, and even a bit faster.”
“When are you planning on starting, honey?” Lou called over to Riva. Jack cringed. Riva didn’t like to be called “honey” by chauvinistic policemen, as evidenced by her not bothering to answer. With his back toward Riva, Jack stepped between her and Lou and made a motion of drawing his finger beneath his chin as if cutting his throat. “No honey or darling or anything like that,” Jack whispered, for Lou’s benefit.
“Gotcha!” Lou voiced with immediate understanding. He rephrased his question and got an immediate response: fifteen minutes.
“I got a last bit of advice,” Jack said. “Don’t waste a lot of time on this investigation. It’s nothing more than a sad, regrettable tragedy in which everyone was doing what they thought they had to do.”
“I’d pretty much gotten that impression talking with the archbishop,” Lou countered. “The monk had no criminal record whatsoever. The most curious aspect, though, was how professional he behaved, except at the end, getting burnt up himself. Our arson investigators were impressed. Not only did he use an accelerant, gasoline, but he knew how to vaporize it maximally and also how to use trailers in the basement to take the fire to all areas of the cellar in the quickest time. He even axed a few vent holes to make sure the fire rose through the house quicker than it would have done otherwise. The man was a natural arsonist.”
“I have my cell phone,” Jack said, shaking Lou’s hand again. “Right now I’m going to run over to the archbishop’s and console him. He’s probably blaming himself, since he’s the one who introduced the parties. I can’t understand why he didn’t call me.”
“You’re right about him blaming himself,” Lou said. “He said as much to me. I’m sure he’d like to hear from you.”
“Longer than I’d like to admit,” Jack said. Confident he was leaving Lou in terrific hands, Jack reversed his direction and proceeded back down to the basement, on his way to the office of the motor pool. Although he had some mild concern about irritating Calvin after the fact, Jack had it in mind to borrow a white medical examiner’s transportation team (METT) van with a driver for thirty to forty minutes. When he walked into the motor pool, he wasn’t concerned any longer. All five drivers were sitting around having coffee. Five minutes later, Jack was riding shotgun with Pete Molina driving. Pete had been one of the night drivers with whom Jack had gotten acquainted but who’d recently been moved to the day shift.
They drove quickly up to the OCME DNA building, where Jack had Pete pull into the loading dock and wait. Running inside, Jack had security open the lab the Daughtrys had been using. Locking the door behind him, Jack did not waste any time, lest Lou’s investigative team learn of the lab before Jack could remove the relics. Jack had a sudden urge to see that everything went back to its rightful owner, a job best done by James.
Back into the ossuary went everything: bones, scrolls, even the remainder of the samples Sana had been working on within the laboratory itself. When that was all in place, Jack added two more objects: the codex and Saturninus’s letter, which Shawn had brought from his office two days previously. Jack then loaded the ossuary onto the cart that Shawn had used to bring up all the glass panes.
After checking a second time to be certain he had everything, Jack pushed the cart back down to the service elevator and then to the loading dock. Luckily, Pete was still exactly where Jack had left him. If a delivery had come in, he would have had to move. After showing his ID to another member of security, Jack carried the ossuary onto the METT van and made sure it was properly secured.
“Okay,” Pete said, starting the motor. “Where to?”
“The archbishop of New York’s residence,” Jack said.
Pete looked at Jack. “Am I supposed to know where that is?”
“Fifty-first and Madison. You can turn left on Fifty-first off Madison and pull over to the curb. You’ll be dumping me off. You don’t have to wait.” Jack didn’t elaborate for two reasons. One, he wanted the least number of people to know what he’d done, and two, he was already deep in thought of what he was going to say to James. Jack knew that had the roles been reversed, he would have been feeling cataleptic.
Once Pete had navigated the crosstown traffic and turned onto Madison, the drive up to Saint Patrick’s Cathedral was slow but steady. It took a bit less than thirty minutes by the time Pete was able to pull over to the side of the road next to the residence. As soon as they’d come to a stop, Jack hopped out, slid open the van’s door, got the ossuary over to the edge, and then lifted it. By then Pete had come around, and he closed the slider.
“I appreciate the help, Pete,” Jack said over his shoulder.
“No problem,” Pete said, eyeing the stark, gray stone residence.
Jack hauled the ossuary up the front stone steps and, balancing it on a bent knee, gave the receiving bell a good pull. Within he could hear the chimes. Always mindful of possible imminent disasters, Jack could suddenly see himself dropping the awkward ossuary down the stone steps, where it would certainly shatter and dump the bones, scrolls, glass panes, codex, and Saturninus’s letter out onto the concrete. As a consequence, Jack gripped the stone more tightly and was even contemplating putting it down when the door was swept open by the same priest who’d welcomed him to lunch.
“Dr. Stapleton,” Father Maloney commented. “What can I do for you?”
“It might be nice to invite me in,” Jack suggested, with a touch of sarcasm.
“Yes, of course, come in!” Father Maloney stepped back to give room. “Is the cardinal expecting you?”
“He might be, since he knows more about what’s been going on than I, but I’m not certain. Why don’t I wait where I waited last week?”
“That is a superb idea. The archbishop is meeting now with the vicar general, but I will let him know you are here.”