“As egregious as each individual episode of sexual abuse is for the victim, we should not victimize all those souls dependent on the church for their health, educational, and spiritual needs. As my mama used to say: We should not throw out the baby with the dirty bathwater.”
“What is the chance of such legislation passing?”
“With my full backing, which I certainly would give it, I would estimate it would have a better than even chance. As for the President, I think he would be happy to sign it into law. He is a man of great faith, with a strong belief in the need for religious charities.”
“I’m sure the Holy Father would be grateful for your support.”
“I am a servant of the people,” Ashley said. “All races and all religions.”
“You mentioned a small favor,” James said. “Is this something I should know about now?”
“Oh, it is a small thing,” Ashley said. “Something more for my mama’s memory. My mama was Catholic. Did I ever mention that?”
“I don’t think you have,” James said.
Carol was again reminded of the image of two fencers parrying and riposting.
“Catholic as the day is long,” Ashley said. “She was from the old country just outside Dublin and a very religious woman indeed.”
“I assume from your syntax she has gone to her Maker.”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Ashley said. He hesitated for a moment, as if choked up. “Quite a few years ago, bless her soul, when I was just knee-high to a grasshopper.”
This was a story Carol knew. One night after a lengthy session of the Senate, she’d gone out to a Capitol Hill bar with the senator. After a number of bourbons, the senator had become particularly loquacious and had told the sad story of his mother. She had died when Ashley was nine as the consequence of a septic backroom abortion that she’d had rather than a tenth child. The irony was that she feared she’d die during childbirth because of complications during the birth of her ninth child. Ashley’s fire-and-brimstone father had been outraged and had told the family and his congregation that the woman had been damned to hell for all eternity.
“Would you want me to say a Mass for her soul?” James questioned.
“That would be very generous,” Ashley said, “but it is not quite what I had in mind. To this day, I can remember sitting on her knee and listening to all the wonderful things she told me about the Catholic Church. And I particularly remember what she told me about the miraculous Shroud of Turin, which she held dear to her heart.”
For the first time, the cardinal’s expression changed. It was a subtle change, but Carol could tell it was definitely of surprise.
“The shroud is considered a most sacred relic,” James said.
“I would not assume anything less,” Ashley responded.
“The Holy Father himself has said off the record that he believes it to be the shroud of Jesus Christ.”
“I am glad to hear my mother’s beliefs being so confirmed,” Ashley said. “In full recognition of my mother’s pivotal role, I have been a minor student of the shroud all these years. I happen to know that a number of samples were taken from it, some used for testing and some not. I also happen to know that those samples not used were called back by the church after the results of the carbon dating. What I would like to have is a tiny”-Ashley pinched his thumb and forefinger together for emphasis-“tiny sample of blood-soaked fiber that had been called back.”
The cardinal leaned back in his chair. He briefly exchanged glances with Father Maloney. “This is a very unusual request,” he said. “However, the church has been very clear on this subject. There is to be no more scientific testing of the shroud, other than to insure its conservancy.”
“I have no interest in testing the shroud,” Ashley stated categorically.
“Then why do you want this tiny, tiny sample?”
“For my mama,” Ashley said simply. “I would sincerely like to place it within the urn that holds her ashes the next time I am back home, so her remains could mingle with the Heavenly Host. Her urn stands next to my daddy’s on the mantel in the old homestead.”
Carol had to suppress a scornful laugh at how easily and convincingly the senator could lie. On the same night the senator had told her the story of his poor mother, he said that his father would not allow her to be buried in his church’s cemetery, necessitating her burial in the town’s potter’s field.
“I believe,” Ashley added, “that if she could have one wish, this would be it, to help her immortal soul gain entrance into everlasting paradise.”
James looked up at Father Maloney. “I don’t know anything about these recalled samples. Do you?”
“No, Your Eminence,” Father Maloney said. “But I could find out. Archbishop Manfredi, whom you know well, has been installed in Turin. And Monsignor Garibaldi, who I know well, is there also.”
The cardinal looked back at Ashley. “You would be happy with just a few fibers?”
“That is all I ask,” Ashley said. “Although I should add that I would like them just as soon as possible, since I will be planning a trip home in the very near future.”
“If this tiny sample of fiber were to be made available, how would we get them to you?”
“I would immediately dispatch an agent to Turin,” Ashley said. “It is not the type of thing I would trust to the mail or any commercial carrier.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” James said, as he got to his feet. “And I assume you will introduce the suggested legislation soon.”
Ashley got to his feet as well. “Monday morning, Your Eminence, provided I hear from you by then.”
Stairs were a distinct effort for the cardinal, and he took them slowly, pausing frequently to catch his breath. The main problem with wearing his formal regalia was that he felt restricted with so many layers and frequently became overheated, especially when climbing the stairs to his private quarters. Father Maloney was right behind him, and when the cardinal stopped, he stopped as well.
Holding on to the banister with one hand, the cardinal leaned his other arm on his raised knee. He exhaled through pale, puffed-up cheeks and ran a hand across his brow. There was an elevator, but he avoided it as a kind of penance.
“Is there something I can get for you, Your Eminence?” Father Maloney questioned. “I could bring it down to spare your climbing these steep steps. It has been a strenuous afternoon.”
“Thank you, Michael,” James said. “But I must freshen up if I am to last through the dinner with the mayor and our visiting cardinal.”
“When do you want me to contact Turin?” Father Maloney asked, to take advantage of the moment.
“Tonight after midnight,” James said between breaths. “That will be six in the morning their time, and you should be able to catch them before Mass.”
“It is a surprising request if I may say so, Your Eminence.”
“Indeed! Surprising and curious! If the senator’s information about the samples is correct, which I would be surprised if it weren’t, knowing what I do of the man, it should be an easy request to fulfill since it obviates the need to touch the shroud itself. But in your conversations with Turin, be sure to emphasize that the affair is to be completely sub-rosa. There should be strict confidentiality and absolutely no documentation whatsoever. Am I clear?”
“Perfectly clear,” Michael said. “Are you questioning the senator’s purported use of the samples, Your Eminence?”
“That is my only concern,” James said, with a final deep breath. He recommenced slowly mounting the stairs. “The senator is a master of bargaining. I am certain he would not want the sample to do any unauthorized testing, but he may be exchanging favors with someone who is interested in testing. The Holy Father has decreed ex cathedra that the shroud should not be subjected to any more scientific indignity, and I am in full agreement. But beyond that, I believe it is a noble cause to exchange a few of the sacred fibers for a chance to ensure the economic viability of the church. Do you agree, Father?”