That pricked his interest. 揇id she say why??
Kelsey shook her head.
揧our convent is how far away??
揟hree hours by train.?
揂nd your prioress came all that way??His statement was rhetorical, but the answer was easy. 揧ou said only three people knew what you found and that you抎 recorded those images.?
She nodded.
He抎 originally thought his next move was to head to southern France. Not anymore. The next move might have just come to him.
揟he curator wants me to email the images file to him,?she said.
揑 assume Monsieur de Foix will be privy to those images too??
She nodded. 揙f course.?
That eliminated two of the three suspects.
揂ny idea why your prioress is so interested in those images??
She said nothing.
But he could see the questions forming in her mind.
揇on抰 email the images,?he said. 揘ot yet. First, if you抣l allow me, I have an idea that may give us the answer about your prioress.?
Chapter 22
Archbishop Vilamur had to force himself through the rededication ceremony, saying the right words, smiling at the right time, careful with the cameras, which had been numerous.
But the video he抎 been sent kept replaying through his mind.
Father Tallard was a problem, one that he抎 tried several times to either ignore or suppress. He抎 only been a monsignor when Tallard committed his crimes, another man then in charge. But that archbishop was dead and the problem of Father Tallard remained alive. Nobody would care that he抎 inherited the issue. He was the current archbishop. His job was to safeguard the church and its members. He抎 removed Tallard from any and all parishioner duties and ordered that he stay out of sight. But he抎 not taken the man抯 collar. Even after formal charges had been brought, he抎 opted instead to allow the criminal process to play out. That course, along with every other decision he抎 made relative to Tallard, had been approved by the Vatican and all had remained relatively quiet the past three years. Sure, there抎 been news accounts here and there. Victims raging about the lack of justice. But none of that lasted long. Thankfully, the public had become somewhat anesthetized to clerical sexual abuse claims. One more seemed not to matter much. But now this. A recorded confession? While tied to a table?
That was an entirely different matter.
Sensationalism?
Sure. But that抯 what people loved.
Other than Tallard, his diocese had been relatively free of abuse allegations. Not a single substantiated case had arisen during his tenure, which he liked to remind Rome about. His public comments had always been focused on zero tolerance, along with a respect for secular authority to charge, try, and sentence abusers. So far, Tallard had vehemently denied all of the allegations. The church had quietly arranged for him to have competent counsel, but everything was now in doubt. To this point Tallard had smartly remained silent. Clearly, the video had been obtained by coercion. But by who? Victims? Zealots? And why send it to him with the rather cryptic For your excellency抯 eyes only. You, of course, will not find it enlightening. But others will.
Really?
Was the statement about enlightenment meant to convey that Tallard had already privately confessed his sins? Vilamur had heard Tallard抯 confession himself, every word protected under French law as confidential. Only two people knew that had happened. Had Tallard confessed that too? An admission not recorded? One that others would learn?
He had to know.
So he抎 changed back into his black suit and collar and left the church right after the ceremony ended, driving away from Toulouse. He抎 called his office and instructed that his appointments into midafternoon be canceled, manufacturing a story that one of the bishops needed to speak with him. The drive from Toulouse to B閦iers was about two hundred kilometers, four-laned highway most of the way.
It took him only two hours to make the journey.
The house north of town had been obtained by Tallard抯 lawyer as the perfect out-of-the-way locale where nobody would pay the disgraced priest any attention. The farmhouse sat amid the dense local forest, with few neighbors. Tallard had been told to not venture out except to buy food, which should be done from different stores each time. No patterns. No routine. No consistency where the press or a victim might recognize him. He抎 also been told to grow a beard and mustache to further complicate things. So far all of the deceptions had worked. Not a word had appeared about Tallard in the media or on the internet. Everything possible had been done behind the scenes with the authorities to delay the trial for as long as possible. It had not helped that the French government recently pledged to toughen laws on child rape. That move came after a massive online movement saw hundreds of victims share accounts about sexual abuse within their families. A draft bill had already started being debated in Parliament. Thankfully, that was months or years away from becoming law, if ever, and the local prosecutor was a friend, with a cooperative personality.