“She met and married Thomas Paciorek, a young doctor in the service. She spent four more years in Panama and developed a lasting interest in a seminary where Dominicans could continue the work she and O’Faolin had undertaken among the poor.”
As I got well into my story, I finally started relaxing. My voice came out without a tremor and my breathing returned to normal. I kept a wary eye on Rosa.
“Toward the end of her stint in Panama, a young man came to the Priory of San Tomás who shared her passion and her idealism. Not to spin out the obvious, it was Augustine Pelly. He, too, joined Corpus Christi. He, too, fell under Xavier O’Faolin’s influence. When O’Faolin’s ambition and acuity got him a coveted promotion to Rome, Pelly followed and served as his secretary for several years-not a typical venue for a Dominican friar.
“When he rejoined his brothers, this time in Chicago, he met Mrs. Vignelli, another ardent, if very angry, soul. She, too, joined Corpus Christi. It gave some meaning to an otherwise bitter life.”
Rosa made an angry gesture. “And if it is bitter, whose fault is that?”
“We’ll get to that in a moment,” I said coldly. “The next important incident in this tale took place about three years ago when Roberto Calvi, prompted by his own internal devils, set up some Panamanian subsidiaries for the Banco Ambrosiano, using over a billion dollars in bank assets. When he died, that money had completely disappeared. We probably will never know what he meant to use it for. But we do know where much of it is now.”
As I sketched the transactions between Figueredo and O’Faolin and the effort to take over Ajax, I continued to strain for sounds in the background. I stole a look at my watch. Six o’clock. Surely..
“That brings me to the forgeries, Prior. That they played a role in the takeover, I feel certain. For it was to stop my investigation that O’Faolin dug up a petty hoodlum named
Walter Novick. He got him to throw acid at me and to burn my apartment building down. Indeed, it was sheer luck that kept seven people from being murdered by his mania to stop my investigation into the forgeries.
“What puzzles me is Rosa’s role and that played by her son, Albert. I can only think that Rosa didn’t know the forgeries had been put in the safe by Corpus Christi until after she called me in to investigate. Suddenly, and with uncharacteristic humility, she tried to get me out of the case. She wouldn’t discuss it. She mouthed pieties. Yet initially she was so fearful of an FBI frame-up that she forced me to listen to repeated insults in order to clear her blameless character.”
Rosa could contain herself no longer. “Insults! Why should I ask you for help? What have I not suffered at the hands of that whore who called herself your mother!”
“Rosa.” This was Pelly. “Rosa. Calm yourself. You do the Church no favor with these accusations.”
Rosa was beyond his influence. The demon that had rocked her sanity two weeks ago was too close to her now. “I took her in. Oh, how I was betrayed. Sweet Gabriella. Beautiful Gabriella. Talented Gabriella.” Her face contorted in an angry mimicry. “Oh, yes. The darling of the family. Do you know what your precious Gabriella did? Did she ever have the courage to tell you? Not she, filthy whore.
“She came to me. I took her in from the goodness of my heart. I was forty and my belly was swollen with child. What did I want with a baby? I hated men. Hated their foul hands touching me in the night. I, who kept myself pure and childless, destroyed by the lusts of your uncle. Carrying my shame for all the world to see.
“Did she pity me? Not she! While I worked my fingers to the bone for her, she seduced my husband. If I would divorce him, he would take my child. He would support me. Only let him live with his sweet, talented Gabriella.”
Spit was flecking her lips. We all sat, unable to think of anything that might stop the flow.
“So I threw her into the street. Who would not have? I made her promise to disappear and leave no word. Yes, she had that much shame. And what did Carl do? He shot himself.
Shot himself because of a whore from the streets. Left me alone with Albert. That whore, that shameless one!”
She was screaming louder and louder, repeating herself now. I stumbled into the hallway to find a washroom. As I staggered along, catching the bile in my hands, I felt Carroll’s arm around me, guiding me to a tiny dark room with a sink. I couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. Heaving, gasping for air, choking up images of Gabriella. Her beautiful, haunted face. How could she think my father and I would not forgive her?
Carroll wiped my face with cold towels. Gradually the terrible shuddering stopped. Leading me to a small room, he sat me on a sofa. He disappeared for a few minutes, then returned with a cup of green tea. I gulped it gratefully.
“I need to finish this conversation,” he said. “I need to find out why Augustine did what he did. For it must have been he who put the forged certificates in the safe. Your aunt is fundamentally a pitiable creature. Can you be strong enough to keep that in mind and help me end this story as fast as possible?”
“Oh, yes.” My voice was hoarse from gagging. “Yes.” My weariness amazed me. If I could forget this day… And the sooner it ended the sooner it would go away. I dragged myself up again, shook off Carroll’s supportive arm. Followed him back into the study.
Pelly, Murray, and Stefan were still there. From the prior’s closed inner office Rosa’s screams came in a mind-shattering stream.
Uncle Stefan, pale and shaking, rushed to my side and began murmuring various soothing things at me in German I thought I heard the word chocolate and smiled in spite of myself.
Murray said to Carroll, “Jablonski is in there with her. He’s called for an ambulance.”
“Just as well.” Carroll moved the rest of us back to the small room where he’d given me tea. Pelly could scarcely walk. His normally sunburned face was pale and his lips kept moving meaninglessly. Rosa’s demented outburst had shaken the remains of his self-confidence. The story he told Carroll confirmed my analysis.
They needed money to acquire Ajax. Mrs. Paciorek was supplying as much as she could, but it wasn’t enough. Besides, they didn’t want to get the SEC involved too early by having all the purchases come from one source.
Pelly knew about the five million in blue chip shares in the priory safe. He wrote to O’Faolin, saying he would be glad to use them, but didn’t want to arouse suspicions by their disappearing. Several months later, the forgeries arrived in the mail. Who created them he didn’t know, but presumably it was done under O’Faolin’s direction. Pelly substituted them for the real ones in the safe. After all, the shares hadn’t been used in a decade or more. The chances were good that the Ajax purchase would long since have become history when the deception was discovered.
Unfortunately, he was out of town when the chapter voted to sell the shares so they could build a new roof. When he returned from his annual retreat in Panama, it was to find the priory in an uproar and Rosa fired from her position as treasurer. He called Rosa and told her to dismiss me, that Corpus Christi knew all about the forgeries and would protect her.
“Xavier came to Chicago a few days later,” he muttered miserably, unable to look at either me or Carroll. “He-he took over things at once. He was most annoyed with me for letting so much publicity escape over the forgeries, especially because he said the amount was trivial compared to what we needed. He was annoyed, too, that-that Warshawski here was still poking around in the situation. He told me he’d take over, that he would see-see that she stopped. I just assumed she was a Catholic-Warshawski, you know-that she would be persuaded by an archbishop. I didn’t know about the acid. Or the arson. Not until much later, anyway.”