Magnificat (64 page)

Cardinal Cadini did not offer her a flip answer. “The only thing I might have held off on was abolishing the honorifics, as much for pride as anything. But all the rest is needed, and I welcome what you have done. I pray you will build on your own progress, Pope An.”

“And if you were Pope, what would you do?” she asked in a clear and penetrating manner.

“Just what I have said,” Cardinal Cadini assured her with a warm smile and strong conviction; his raisin-eyes twinkled. “I would reinstate the honorifics as a salve to the bureaucracy and then I would continue to reform the Church in order to restore her purpose.”

Leonie was close enough now to call out in Chinese, “What do you think of our new place, Worthy Magistrate?”

“It is very beautiful,” answered Pope An in the same language. “You are fortunate to have found it. It makes me long for the farm I left in China.”

“The advantage of being a journalist,” said Willie in English for the benefit of the men with her. He was pleased that the discussion had been steered to safer ground for the time being; there would be more than enough politics and religion over luncheon. “I heard of this as soon as the former owner decided to sell. He’s a friend of a friend, someone I had met once or twice. I made an offer before it was actually on the market.”

“You show prudence,” approved Pope An. “And you have profited by it.” She motioned to Cardinal Cadini. “What do you think of it?”

“I think it’s splendid,” said Cardinal Cadini. He turned to Willie. “I plan to wangle—that is a very useful word I learned from Charles—invitations out of you all year long. I shall lie in your garden like a beached porpoise and become intoxicated on the scent of growing things.”

“You’re always welcome,” said Willie.

Archbishop Wailua stared at the weathered bas relief sculpture set into the hill behind the fountain. “How old is that?” he asked, pointing to the marble figures. “It’s been here quite a while, by the look of it.”

“That it has. About two thousand years. There used to be a Roman villa on this site. The fountains were part of their baths.” Willie gestured expansively, enjoying himself. “You can see, in the next garden over, where some of it has been excavated. I’ve had a call from two archeology departments who want to tear up the garden looking for more of the ancient villa. One of the professors thinks that the stables were on the far side of the fountains, where there could be water for the horses and the waste could run away from the baths and the house instead of toward them. Very clever, those old Romans.”

“You aren’t going to let them do it, are you?” Cardinal Cadini protested. “This garden.…” For once, words failed him.

“It was destroyed in World War II and it’s reestablished itself,” said Leonie. “Gardening’s a hobby of mine.”

“Does that mean you will or you won’t allow the digging?” Cardinal Cadini persisted. “You can’t seriously intend to—”

“Not for a while, no,” Willie admitted. “We have to decide if we’re going to stay here; we’ll work out then what we intend to do with it.”

“There are other villas, and other gardens they can dig up,” said Cardinal Quillons. “This is a very pleasant place. It would be a shame to clutter it up with graduate students unearthing bits of pottery.”

“So it is, very pleasant,” agreed Willie at once. He rested one arm on the rim of the fountain, paying no heed to the water that splashed on his tweed jacket. “We don’t know yet how hard it might be to keep up. It’s almost two acres, the whole grounds and the house. It’s more than I’ve handled before. Up until now the most I’ve had to deal with was a large flat.”

“And I’ve always had a staff to help me,” said Leonie. “Here, I have Matteo for the heavy work and his wife Dorotea as housekeeper. Willie and I will be accountable for the rest of it. We haven’t done the summer weeding yet. The day may come when we’ll positively welcome the archaeologists.”

“If you do, you must photograph everything before they arrive,” said Cardinal Quillons. “That way it can be restored to just the way it was.” He rubbed his hands together. “It could keep you active for years.”

“If we haven’t anything better to do,” said Willie. “And speaking of something better to do, there is a luncheon waiting for us. I suspect you and the other guests are getting peckish.”

“How many others are invited for this luncheon?” asked Cardinal Phinees.

“We will be a total of fifteen when we sit down.” Willie said grandly. “We would have been sixteen if Cardinal Mendosa were back, but he’s still in Washington.”

“The Williamson trial, I suppose?” said Archbishop Wailua. “That’s all you can find on TV in Hawaii. Everyone having anything to do with the case has been interviewed. You can’t go anywhere they aren’t talking about it, especially since Cardinal Hetre was declared psychiatrically incompetent to testify.”

“Do you think they’ll convict him?” asked Cardinal Quillons, his tone revealing his own longing for a guilty verdict.

“I don’t see how they can fail to,” said Archbishop Wailua. “Between what Clancy McEllton said and the evidence that’s been presented, Reverend Williamson is responsible for the whole terrible plan.”

“Cardinal Mendosa was asked to give a statement regarding Cardinal Hetre. He’s been promised confidentiality.” Willie looked to Pope An, uncertain if he should go on. When he saw her nod, he continued, “The Department of Justice requested an American Cardinal because of the confrontational attitude Reverend Williamson’s followers have taken in regard to the Church. Bradeston didn’t want to, and Walgren was on Williamson’s side; in fact, he offered to testify for the defense, explaining the dilemma of the Church. Walgren has expressed sympathy with the confusion many Christians are feeling.”

“Not very wise of him,” murmured Cardinal Cadini. “No, it was not,” said Pope An.

“With the other Americans,” Willie went on, “Aquilino wouldn’t speak against a fellow Cardinal—meaning Hetre—and Durand is busy at the U.N. That left either you, Cardinal Quillons, or Cardinal Mendosa. You’ve haven’t had the job very long. Which meant the best choice was Cardinal Mendosa.”

“Besides, he’s had some dealings with President Carey,” said Cardinal Cadini. “There’s been a rapport established.”

“He went because I asked it of him,” said Pope An, settling the matter.

As they started back down the pathway through the tall, formal hedges and the fronts of artful grottos, Cardinal Cadini asked Pope An, “Have you reached a decision yet on South America? The governments are pressing for an answer. So is the U.N., so they can coordinate their work with your travels.”

She looked away, resigned. “I suppose it would be best to go. They’ve had so much upheaval there, and it seems not to be ended yet. The new government in Brazil needs support if it is going to make the reforms it promised, and the reforms are long overdue from what I have learned. They will also need money; we must find out how much and how they intend to spend it before we extend them the loan they have sought. And there are those men in Colombia, with their drug empires. They will be at war with each other in a few more years, instead of just shooting each other out of cars and blowing up individual houses.” Her expression grew more somber. “I should plan the trip for May and June. It will be winter south of the equator and there is a lower chance of riots in winter.”

“It could be very dangerous, Pope,” said Cardinal Cadini with real concern. “You’ve read Maetrich’s evaluation of the risks involved.”

“Yes,” she allowed. “I appreciate his intentions and I applaud his efforts, but I cannot permit him to make me a prisoner of the Church any more than I already am.” She looked at her two new Cardinals. “That is one of the reasons I have advanced you both. We require better balance in the Church. We need to behave as if we truly are Catholic—universal—as we claim, or we must abandon the name as misrepresentation.”

“Don’t even think it, Pope,” said Cardinal Cadini at once. “That’s one change no one would tolerate.”

“It would not be liked,” conceded Pope An.

“That’s the understatement of the age,” said Willie for all the others.

“But it would be true, and the Church has said that it strives to reach the truth.” She looked at the Archbishop. “You were recommended to me by Cardinal Tsukamara. He informs me that you are very diligent in your work and you are fair, which is high praise from him. He has also persuaded me that we have neglected our people in the Pacific. Cardinal Stevenson of Australia, Cardinal Semisse of Djakarta, Cardinal Benvenac of Tahiti, Cardinal Pingari of the Philippines, and now you, are all we have in the South Pacific since Cardinal Napier of Auckland died last year. Cardinal Tsukamara was right about you and the Pacific.” She stopped by a garden shrine. “Which saint is this?”

“Saint Francis, I think,” said Willie. “The shrine was rebuilt after the war; the statue was put in its shrine about 1650 according to the records in the local church. Though it could be older than Francis. It might not be a monk at all, of any order. There must have been garden statues when the Romans were here. You can see robed figures in many of these shrines; sometimes they’re left over from pagan times and Christianized.”

“I like to think it’s Ceres,” said Leonie. “The old Roman crop goddess. With those robes, you can’t tell what sex the figure is.”

Cardinal Quillons could not conceal his disapprobation. “How can you say that, Dame Leonie?”

“It’s happened often enough,” she answered, then bent and broke off a bud from a nearby bush and put it at the foot of the figure in the shrine. “Whoever you are, take care of the garden.”

Pope An smiled. “Perhaps it might be one of the Eight Immortals.” She also picked a bud and left it as an offering beside Leonie’s. “In which case, I would like it to be Lan Tsai-ho.”

“A Pope offering to a pagan deity?” said Willie with a grin, in case one of the new Cardinals might be offended by what Pope An had done.

“The Eight Immortals were known before your Jesus was born,” said Pope An calmly. “We have been taught to disregard these figures because they are not part of the Chinese way now. But most Chinese people continue to remember them, and to show them honor.”

“But no relics,” said Cardinal Cadini.

Pope An chuckled. “No, no relics.” She sensed the disquiet around her and took a lighter tone with the group. “Let us prepare for lunch. The other guests will be sizing you up, Cardinal Phinees. And especially you, Archbishop. They will want to see what you are like. They will try to find out where you stand so that they can enlist you in their cause.”

“Surely not during lunch,” said Cardinal Quillons.

“Most of all during lunch,” Cardinal Cadini stated. “These colleagues of yours might be soft-spoken men, yet they did not reach their positions through humility and inconspicuous good works. They are capable politicians, most of them, and they are always trying to find the most advantageous means to promote their own interests.” He smiled innocently at Archbishop Wailua. “Keep in mind that you are not from a powerful area. The Pacific has only recently become politically interesting to the Church in any practicable way. You will be the one they seek to sway the most because you have fewer men who will stand with you.”

“How cynical you are, Cardinal Cadini,” Leonie chided him.

“Not at all. I’ve been at the Vatican longer than most, and I know how things are done there. I would be failing in the trust of my congregation if I allowed myself to be dazzled by the institution and became the tool of those less gullible than I.” They were almost to the terrace now, and the scent of fresh rosemary and thyme struck them from the herb borders. “What a wonderful fragrance. The air makes me hungry.”

“Then come with me, Cardinal,” said Leonie, and reached to put her arm through Cardinal Cadini’s arm. “We’ll take the lead.”

“Charming, very charming,” said Cardinal Cadini, permitting Leonie to guide him up the steps and across the terrace.

“It’s not fitting that you take my arm, Pope,” said Willie, “but let me escort you, if I may.”

She nodded and fell into step beside him but walked slowly in order to have a few private words with Willie. “Did you happen to see the report from that fellow Attersee, from Interpol? The one who says that there is nothing to the threat that Cardinal Mendosa warned of?”

“Maetrich provided me a copy. We’re not supposed to have one, I know. But rest assured that I will not leak this to the press.”

“Do you think Maetrich expected you to?” asked Pope An.

“No, I don’t; and if he did, he chose the wrong reporter. I think it was because of the way Leonie dispatched Cardinal Gemme.” A line deepened between his brows. “It hasn’t been easy on her. There are still questions about Cardinal Gemme and…how she came to disable him.”

“I know; I’m sorry.” They were almost to the vaulted french doors. “What do you think of Attersee’s report? Maetrich does not agree with Attersee, but I understand that Interpol has decided to accept his evaluation.”

“I wish I were as confident as Lieutenant Attersee is. But I’m not convinced that the other conspiracies have worn the threat out for the time being, and that all those who took part in them have withdrawn from them.” He held the door for her, watching as the other guests rose in respect to her.

“We will talk later, if there is time.” She bowed to the guests, and then to her host and hostess. “You are all most gracious.”

Willie returned her bow, troubled that they had discussed so little and afraid that there would be few chances to discuss more between now and Easter.

“April twenty-third,” said Cardinal Mendosa to Cardinal Cadini as they prepared to join the austere procession to the Paschal High Mass on the morning of Easter Sunday. “Shakespeare was born on April twenty-third, probably.”

Cardinal Cadini showed a wry smile. “So was Hitler, I believe.” He tugged at his pectoral crucifix. “There may be Catholics around the world who miss the full alb and dalmatic and the rest of the vestments, but I, for one, am relieved that all we have to wear is our formal cassocks and sashes. We look less like drag queens this way.”

“Considering the rain, I wouldn’t mind a pluvial,” said Cardinal Mendosa. He glanced back along the line. “But we have a number of colleagues who still get dolled up, don’t we?” He indicated Cardinal Jung who was formally vested, and with him Cardinal Lepescu, also in full regalia.