And kept that to herself for ten years.
Amazing.
When the worldwide revelations of clergy sexual abuse were first exposed he抎 worried that something from his past might resurface. But nothing had. Whatever happened was long over and none of the women involved wanted any attention brought to it.
He抎 chosen them carefully.
Rene had seemed the perfect example.
She抎 worked at a local department store. A devout Catholic, active in the church, who regularly took confession. That was where he抎 learned about the unhappiness in her marriage. A simple matter from there to lure her into his bed, her vulnerability easy to exploit. Their relationship had been a long one, more so than the others. They抎 both seemed to enjoy it and, for a while, he抎 devoted himself solely to her. But the inevitable end came and he moved on. She抎 taken it fine, just like all of the others, and never created a problem. But what were they going to say? None really wanted to leave their husbands. They just wanted a diversion, the attention, the pleasure, for however long it might last. Then Rene had come back.
With a ten-year old son.
He and Bernat de Foix had swapped saliva samples, each depositing damp swabs into their respective glass vials. But he had no need for a DNA test. He knew then and now.
That man was his son.
揥hat do you want from me??he抎 asked de Foix, before leaving.
揂 great deal, Archbishop. A great, great deal.?
None of that had sounded promising.
He assumed de Foix would run the DNA test, not quite as sure about parentage as he wanted him to believe. That should buy a day, maybe two.
Then what?
揧ou have a visitor,?the housekeeper said, interrupting his thoughts.
He stood in the rectory抯 foyer.
The older woman had been with him a long time and they got along reasonably well. He抎 always made a point to never alienate, abuse, or sleep with his staff. They were vital to an orderly progression of things. Parishioners came and went. Diocese employees stayed around a long time.
揥ho is it??
She told him.
And he headed straight for his office.
Hector Cardinal Fuentes rose from the chair as he entered the room. 揂rchbishop Vilamur, it is a pleasure to meet you.?
揈minence, I thought you said you would be here tomorrow.?
揟he opportunity presented itself to come immediately, so I took it.?
No way that fortuitous occurrence was going to be good for him.
Fuentes was a husky man with bearish shoulders, a thick chest, and meaty arms. He had a broad nose and a heavy shelf of thick eyebrows under close-cropped auburn hair. Well groomed, the face, the eyes, the creases in the skin all conveyed a perpetually intense look, which, he assumed, fit this man抯 mood more often than not. Cardinals by and large were an aloof group. There were only 221 on the planet, 128 of them below the age of eighty and eligible to elect a pope. Fuentes appeared to be one of the younger ones. Mid-to late sixties, possibly. The question for the moment, though, was what was he doing here? And what did he want?
They both sat in chairs, facing each other.
Fuentes, like himself, was dressed casually in trousers, shirt, and jacket. No ring. No cross. Not a thing that identified him as a prince in the Holy Roman Church. Which also raised warning flags.
揧ou look like you抳e been hiking,?Fuentes said.
揑 had to travel to the south to see about things. I decided a walk in the mountains would be good.?
揥as it??
揇elightful.?
揑 love the outdoors. Unfortunately, I don抰 get to enjoy it much anymore.?
He decided to get to the point. 揥hat brings you here? And why all the interest in what happened to Father Tallard??
揕et me be clear. I care nothing for that deviant priest. You were correct. Whoever killed him did the world a favor. But that video confession is something that interests me, along with Cathars and les Vautours. Two subjects I have long been fascinated with.?
He now knew that all of the information anonymously sent to him had come from Bernat de Foix, who apparently was incredibly well informed about something important enough to stir the Vatican.
揥ill you be explaining why you have such an interest in those two subjects??he asked, keeping his voice controlled. 揙r will I be working in the dark??
Fuentes grinned and motioned with his hands. 揟hat is precisely why I am here. But first, Archbishop, is it possible to have some dinner. It is nearly 6:00 p.m., and I have neglected to eat since this morning.?
He抎 spent his entire clerical life dealing with people. Some priests focused entirely on their parishioners, ignoring ambition, intent only on human relations. Others were more aloof, keeping their distance, directing their attention toward the politics of religion rather than its substance. He liked to navigate a middle-of-the-road approach, interested in parishioners but always conscious of the lay of the land around him. Always looking for the next fork in the road. Which explained his rise from priest, to monsignor, to archbishop, to metropolitan archbishop, to, he hoped, cardinal.