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 Only to the extent that you don t do any public relations damage. You could make a big show out of
leading the poor souls back onto the righteous path and accepting them back into the bosom of the
Church& but nothing too harsh. We don t want to portray the church as a heavy.
 Could I still hold an auto d f?
 Of course, it would make a great show& just leave out the burning at the stake. Sylvester took an
obscenely large gulp of the precious cognac.  Assign them some chores around the shrine as penance for
their sins. Think of having a day, no, make it a week, better yet, a month of reconciliation.
LaFarge was stirred by Sylvester s speech and apparent faith in him.  Your Holiness, I am at your
service.
 This Jubilee is my dream, Rene. Make it real. Sylvester rose and walked around to LaFarge s side.
 Here, since you seem to enjoy this so much, take it as a token of my esteem. He handed LaFarge the
decanter of cognac and proffered another wink.  I m counting on you. Remember this, Americans like a
good show. And they especially enjoy a happy ending& give me my happy ending.
LaFarge winked back.
Chapter 19
Vatican City
April 23, 2008
A Legitimate Bastard
Armonde Quiferelli was the ideal image of an Abbott. He was a tall, husky man with large hands and
overdeveloped forearms, who filled out his robe with authority. His mentor, Cardinal Fuquois, had guided
his career. As the Lord Abbott of the Order of the Knights of Saint Simon, Quiferelli had been Fuquois
shadow, serving as a covert instrument of force and persuasion.
Fuquois was the ultimate Mandarin, a consummate functionary who knew the most effective way to
arrange the various ecclesiastical dominoes. After the broad experience of serving so many popes, Fuquois
felt he knew what was in the best interests of Catholicism. Popes came and went and were usually not
elected until they were entering their dotage. So if the reigns of power were in the hands of a
trustworthy and knowing minister, in his opinion, the interests of the mother Church would be best
served. For most of his career Fuquois had been, in effect, the power behind the throne of Peter. He had
become used to steering the billion followers of the Pontiff towards the ends he felt were best.
Fuquois vision was to elect a pope who was his protg who would remain a figurehead and allow
Fuquois to pull the levers of power. After years of preparation, Fuquois sudden incapacitation and the
quick election of Sylvester had directly interfered with his plans. Moreover, the youth of Sylvester made
it unlikely that Fuquois would be given another chance to manipulate a papal election. But never one to
give up trying, Fuquois was continuing his quest to discredit Sylvester. For short of the Pope s untimely
death, this would be the only way to gain hegemony over the office by blackmailing Sylvester to resign
the papacy, or to yield control to Fuquois.
The Abbot and the Cardinal were drinking. The Abbot spoke,  Richelieu s cognac is indeed
excellent. Quiferelli poured himself another glass from the decanter.  It is a blessing that you hold the
keys to the Vatican cellar.
 It is a great responsibility, but I m willing to bear it. Fuquois held his glass out to the Abbot.  I
could do with a bit more.
They sat in the Abbot s private chambers in the catacombs beneath Vatican Square. The doors were
bolted and Fuquois factotum, brother Jerome, had swept the rooms for electronic devices before the two
men had settled into their conference. The gloom of the underground walls was dispersed by the glow of
the brandy and the illumination from the track lighting above the ancient torch sconces. Quiferelli had
remodeled his quarters when he first assumed the office of Abbot. He d made the formerly damp and
dreary quarters comfortable and cheery. Besides the lighting, he d contracted for the installation of a
state-of-the-art climate control system that scrubbed the air. It was so efficient that the pungent smoke
from their Cuban cigars disappeared as fast as they exhaled.
Quiferelli loosed a great smoke ring and considered it for a moment before speaking,  So does the
latest bulletin from our illustrious snoop contain anything interesting? The Abbot knew the answer
already from the precautions that Fuquois had taken.
The two men were seated on either side of a small, oaken end table in overstuffed wingback chairs
that were upholstered in burgundy brocade.  Our money has been well spent, Fuquois replied as he
pulled a fat report from his briefcase and dropped it on the table with a thud.  First item in the report
concerns LaFarge our inquisitor s lineage reads like a who s who of mediocrity. His family held royal
offices under the Bourbons, but never anything more prestigious than provincial tax collector& and though
he claims Richelieu as an ancestor, I see no record of it here.
 Does it mention how they managed to survive the revolution? the Abbot asked derisively.
 According to this report, they claimed to have spent those years abroad in England, working to
restore the Bourbons to the throne. But in reality, they used the money they d skimmed from the King s
taxes to establish themselves as rum smugglers on the Cornish coast. When Bonaparte ended the Republic
by declaring an empire, the LaFarge family returned to Languedoc. There, they swindled an estate from
the peasantry and inveigled a charter to raise roses for the perfume industry.
 Enough of his pedigree, the Abbott said.  What about our Pope s? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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