Spoils of the Game (14 page)

Madeline reached across the table and took Austin’s hand. Perhaps she sensed that she had gone too far, too soon. She wanted Austin to say yes, but his honesty was perhaps more important.

Madeline wanted to mention another issue that perhaps Austin was not aware of. “Let me change the topic if I can,” she said. “In about ten days it will be July, and most of Paris will be on vacation. I don’t know what Vassar’s plans are, but people that count may be on vacation for perhaps a month.”

Austin was aware of this practice in much of Europe, but the topic had slipped his mind.

“Well, I am set up to talk with Vassar on the Thursday before everybody leaves town,” said Austin. “I could go back to the United States if things are going to be on hold. Maybe we can concentrate on getting the Maetan painting studied. What are you going to do?”

“My sister and I usually rent a small house on the Riviera that we really love. This year she has some conflicts, and we are not going to do it, so I am not sure what I am going to do. I cannot afford the house by myself, and it is not as much fun to go alone.”

“Okay, I will make you a deal. Let me see first if there is any reason I should go back to the United States. If they are doing better without me, I will stay here. If you find a way to get the Maetan painting scanned quickly, then I will take you to the Riviera as my guest. I have been to Europe a bunch of times, but I have never been to the Riviera. You set it up, but let me first check with the office.”

Madeline smiled. It was a smile that Austin had learned to love. “So how soon will you know?” she asked.

Austin reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. A few button pushes later he was talking with his office.

“Bonnie, this is Austin. Is Carl Thomson around?” Austin pulled the phone away from his ear so that Madeline could listen in.

“Yes, boss,” answered Thomson.

“Carl, I am sitting here in a meeting, trying to plan the next month. Is there anything that I should come back for in July?”

“Hey, there are some people here that hope you never come back,” Carl said with a laugh. “The only thing that might matter is that big industry show in Las Vegas in November. To be honest, things are going smoothly, and I am not saying that just because you are away. Engineering and the software group have stopped fighting, and things look very good for the new organ injector we are going to show in Vegas. Most of our customers are paying their bills. Freddie got some new leases on the space we needed, and legal got that nutcase in Texas to back off. I think you are good until September. I will not be here for the first two weeks in July, so if you are coming back to see me, forget it.”

Austin smiled at Madeline.

“Carl, you are giving me the impression that I should be laid off or something.”

“Well, I will call HR and discuss it. The money we would save by not paying you would be great for our bottom line,” said Carl with his typical wise-guy attitude.

“In all seriousness, the reports you have been sending me via e-mail have been great. I would love to come back, but we are making some real progress here, and if you can live without me, I will stay a little longer.”

“That is fine by us,” said Carl reassuringly.

Austin ended the conversation and then looked directly into Madeline’s eyes. “Okay, get us a place on the beach for three weeks,” said Austin.

“Four weeks?” answered Madeline with a little
girl smile.

“If you get the picture scanned before July, it can be four weeks, but I cannot and will not promise that I will be able to be there for all four weeks. But remember, I will pay for it, and your boss is not to know. Understood?”

“Understood,” said Madeline with a smile. “Oh, I forgot—you got a call, and Vassar’s secretary took the message.”

Madeline reached into her purse, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Austin. He opened the envelope and looked at the pink message form with some concern. The note said that a Father David Moreau had called and left a phone number.

“Who is Father Moreau, and why does he want to talk to me?”

Madeline shrugged and looked at Austin with an expression that suggested that she did not know. Austin looked at the ceiling and then back at Madeline.

“I’ll bet you this is Vassar’s doing, and I am not sure if he is trying to help or hurt. Well, it is what it is. I don’t think the good father is calling about my soul. You know, Feret was right about the Church. I have been worried that I am approaching this project backward. I came to the Louvre because of my wife’s connections, but the root of the solution, if there is one, rests with the Church. I know nothing about the Roman Catholic Church. I don’t know the structure or who is who. I don’t know the protocol or where to begin. He is probably some art monster appointed by the pope to send me to hell.”

Madeline started to laugh and kept laughing. Other people in the restaurant started to notice that she was laughing almost uncontrollably.

Austin said, “Hey … I am going to hell, and you are laughing. That is just not right.”

It took several minutes before Madeline had calmed down. It wasn’t what Austin had said, but how he’d said it. Austin decided he would address it in the morning; he wanted to get back to talking with Madeline.

“So where are we going on this fun-filled trip to the beach?” asked Austin.

“Antibes.”

“Where or what is that?”

“It is a small town south of Nice, without all of the hassle. The good news is that the place I want to go to is available. I was amazed, and I already made the reservation,” said Madeline.”

“I just said yes a few minutes ago!”

“I know, and I knew I could get you to say yes. I was concerned that you might do something stupid and go back to the States, but now it’s all set.”

Madeline was proving to be an equal in this relationship. Austin liked her aggressiveness and her independence. He also liked the fact that she had him figured out.

“Austin, we are going to a great place. I got us a house on a little hill overlooking the ocean. My sister and I rented this house two years ago, and I just love it. There is no better place in France.”

“Is this going to be expensive?”

“Just give me your credit card, and I will take care of the rest.”

“Do you think I am crazy?”

“Will that be Visa or American Express?”

Austin looked at Madeline, and now he wanted to laugh. “So what are you doing tonight?” he asked.

“I have to clean my apartment. So when I get home I will be running the vacuum and doing the dishes.”

“That sounds like something that could wait.”

Madeline knew where Austin was going with that comment, and it was more than okay with her.

When dinner was over, they walked through the lights of a Paris night and back to his place. Thoughts of Susan ran through his head. One side of his brain felt guilt and the other wondered if people could be influenced by loved ones that had died. His relationship with Madeline was going too well, and Austin wanted to believe that Susan was in on it.

Chapter 6

Paris

Madeline left early after making breakfast for Austin. She always insisted on being at work on time, and even through she was offered an encore, she made it to her desk with three minutes to spare.

At nine, Austin made his move and called Father Moreau.

“
Bonjour
.”

“Father Moreau, this is Austin Clay. I have a message that you called.”

“Oh, yes, Monsieur Clay. I had a discussion with Andre Vassar the other day, and he suggested that we get together regarding your project.”

“Father Moreau, that is probably a good idea. I had mentioned to Andre that once our program was defined, a meeting with a representative of the Church would be mandatory. We have not yet completed our project outline, but talking with you sooner, rather than later, may be a good idea.”

“I have some time this morning. I know that this is short notice, but if you can be here by eleven, then perhaps we can at least begin the discussion.”

“Eleven would be fine.”

The good father provided an address, but he did not provide a sense of optimism. Austin was not able to get a sense of how the discussion might go. But he had to face up to the fact that without cooperation from the Church, there would be no project.

Moreau’s office was in a historic building in Paris, and the interior looked as historic as the outside. The woodwork and paneling were dark and heavy, and even the carpets were dark. There wasn’t a receptionist, so Austin went to the room number that Father Moreau provided. Austin opened the door slowly, only to find a corridor lined with cardboard boxes. At the end of the hall was an open door with sunlight shining in. Austin walked to the door and was met by a young priest who was perhaps no older than thirty-five.

“Monsieur Austin?”

“Father Moreau, I presume.”

“Yes, yes. Come in, please.”

The office was small, and the good father’s desk was a bit messy.

“Please don’t mind the mess,” said Moreau. “One of the things I pray will be in heaven for me will be someone to keep my desk more organized. Until then, I guess I must suffer here on earth.”

It was clear that the priest needed more room and perhaps some office help, but in a strange way it gave a clue to Austin.

The priest said, “I would offer you some coffee, but the coffee machine is way down the hall.”

“No, no, I am fine,” insisted Austin.

Austin had always assumed that when it was time to address the Church, it would be before a stern tribunal of cardinals who looked down from a high courtroom bench to the lowly Austin far below. Now he was dealing with a guy who looked like he’d just left the tennis court and was about to pose for a photo spread in
Church Weekly
. It was clear that if properly used, his picture could be used to bring women into the Church.

“Andre and I work together on a project now and then, and he has become a good friend,” said the priest. “He mentioned that you were preparing a very interesting proposal and that a meeting might help put some of your plans in perspective before you go too public. I work with something called the Committee of Sacred Art of the Diocese of Paris. Your plans would be of interest to this office.”

Austin’s mind spent a second or two on the phrase “too public.”
That did not sound good,
he thought to himself.

“Father,” he said, “as I mentioned to Andre, I have elected to take over a project that my wife began. She passed away about two years ago, and the project has haunted me since.”

“Andre mentioned that your wife had died. I am so sorry to hear that, especially when one is so young.”

“Thank you, Father. If she were here now, I suspect that this project would be well under way, and now I am just trying to get it started. Did Andre give you any of the details of the project?”

“Not enough to do it justice.”

“Okay, I don’t want to waste your time with too many details or too many opinions, but let me condense it down. My wife and I have had the opportunity to travel through every Western European country and some in Eastern Europe. The good news is that typically the churches in Europe were built with love and a commitment, and many are in good shape. But some of the finer detail is disappearing. I am sure this is not news to you, in your capacity.”

“Oh, no,” said Moreau. “The Church currently has repair work under way on hundreds of churches in France alone, and the needed investment throughout Europe is staggering.”

“Father Moreau, my wife and I also noted that some of the interior features are showing signs of age. Some of these cannot be replaced without losing the historical significance, but perhaps some of it can be saved. My wife developed a concept that would require the cooperation of many resources, with the objective of saving many of the paintings that hang in many of the churches that are suffering from age. If I might be frank, Father, there are paintings hanging in churches today that are almost lost to dirt, candle smoke, water damage, and insects. There is new technology that can restore some of these paintings and extend their lives and beauty for perhaps another two hundred years. But the more time that goes by, the more difficult it may be to achieve the amount of work required. We see this as a big project and one that would require a great deal of money for both the restoration and for the management of the program. The mission is not to take possession of the painting per se, but rather to create a resource in France, and perhaps other locations in Europe, that could be a focal point for restoration and corporate sponsorship.”

“Monsieur Clay, Vassar mentioned to me that you may not have been aware of the fact that the state has ownership of many of the churches built before 1905. I know this is a little surprising for many non-French people, but in this day of shrinking budgets, I must tell you that having the state responsible for many of our churches is a blessing. It does make your project a little complicated, but Vassar is connected and knows how to deal with this issue. With respect to the Church’s role in your project, let me mention this. I was in Ohio about five years ago, visiting family, and I noted signs on the side of the road that said that someone had adopted the highway to help keep it clean. I have often thought that the Church could use the same approach to restore buildings, and I could see something like that helping your plan. The one thing that is obvious is the need for a platform or structure to define the program and administer the rules.”

“Father, in the initial period of this effort, the objective is to define the scope of the project, including the inventory of paintings that might be candidates, as well as the means to fund the effort, which is perhaps the most important issue. We believe that the program can be packaged to allow all of the corporate sponsors to benefit beyond the amount of their contributions, and I have no problem if smaller groups or even individuals want to participate.”

“Monsieur Clay, let me give you my initial perspective. If you are going to give me money to do my job, I will accept it. If you want to do my job, then we must talk. This may not be my opinion alone. You must understand that the Church today, as it has been for the past one thousand years, is very conservative and perhaps slow to react to changing conditions. The thinking is that the world must conform to the Church, versus the Church conforming to the world. The truth is somewhere in the middle, but I will admit to you that the Church in France has some issues that are perhaps as demanding as ever. Attendance is down, and to use a business term, the cash flow is down while the real estate overhead is growing. The number of active priests is down to the point that some churches hold Mass every other week and some churches are being closed or even sold and turned into retail establishments. As a Catholic that has dedicated his life to the Church, I find the decay heartbreaking. Your perception that there are some art objects that may have suffered is correct. I am not against what you want to do. My job will not be to say yes, but rather to help you get a yes from the Church in France.”