On the Third Day Read Free Page A

local police.  They’ll be lined up in the parking lots and on the road, probably even bring in helicopters, but they won’t get into the church.”
                “Is that wise,” Sean asked.  “How will the parish react?  Do they support him?  Are they afraid?  We wouldn’t want to seem intrusive, or harsh.”
                “I’ll keep it all as low key as I can,” Bishop Michaels said.  “I will do everything in my power to make it seem routine, as if maybe we want to have the film for training, or a documentary.  I’ll even pretend to believe, if it can help us through this and on to normalcy.  Something.  I won’t come across as the ogre, but I have to set this to rest.”
                The line went silent for a moment, and Cardinal O’Brien broke that silence.
                “What if you can’t?”
                “That’s what you’re there for, isn’t it Sean?” There was a light chuckle at the other end of the line, and Sean relaxed slightly.
                He stared off into the shadows of his dark bedroom.  His mind was drifting, and he was thinking about other churches, other places, and other times.  He shook his head, realizing the line had remained silent for too long.
                “Try to keep an open mind, Tony,” he said softly.  “Call me, one way or the other, the minute the services have concluded.”
                “Of course,” Bishop Michael’s chuckled again.  “That’s why I called you now, Sean.  If this thing blows up in my face, I know you’ll be there to wipe it off – but if it doesn’t, I expect full credit for my good deeds.”
                They both laughed for a moment, then O’Brien’s tone grew grave once again, and he asked.
                “How have you been, Tony?”  He hesitated, and then added, “You sound a little more tense than usual.  Maybe you should pack up your things and pay a visit to Rome – unwind a little.”
                There was silence, just for a second, and then Michaels chuckled again.
                “When this all blows over,” he said, “I might just do that.  It’s been a very long time.”
                “That it has,” O’Brien agreed in mild relief. 
                “Get some sleep, Sean.  I’m sorry to have woken you so late.  I spoke with Father Thomas, the priest I mentioned, earlier this afternoon, and it just wouldn’t let me go, you know?”
                “I do,” O’Brien replied.  “More than you know, Tony.  Sleep, now, that has never been a problem for me.   May God be with you, old friend.”
                “And also with you,” Bishop Michaels replied. 
                There was an audible click, and then the dial tone blared to life.  Cardinal O’Brien sat for a while, holding the receiver in his hand as the tone buzzed angrily through the silence.  Then, as if waking from a light doze, he stared at it and placed it back onto the cradle, returning the room to silence.
                He thought briefly of another man, a younger man.  The Cardinal reached up without thought and pressed against his nightshirt with the palm of one hand.  He felt the familiar bulge of soft leather, and he stroked it as he thought.  Father Prescott was in South America, but he would be returning soon.  If things progressed…  Still, that was something to think about only if necessary.
    He lay back, stared at the intricate pattern of shadows on his ceiling, and off to sleep.

~Two~
                Sunlight streamed through low hanging, silver-gilded clouds and washed over the white stone walls of the Cathedral of San Marcos by the Sea.  The view was overwhelming.  Breakers crashed into the rocks below and sent huge pillars of white foam dancing skyward.  The Cathedral, a throwback to earlier Spanish