‘Before I can answer that question, would you please stand?’
As Grin rose, Donoher pulled a Bible from his briefcase and held out the book with his left hand.
‘Repeat after me,’ Donoher began, leading Grin through the same oath sworn by all those providing service to the cardinal electors.
As Grin recited, he wondered what his devoutly religious parents would think of their highly unorthodox son being made a party to the secrets of a papal election.
‘—and these Holy Gospels which I touch with my hand,’ Grin said, completing the oath.
Donoher slipped the Bible back into his briefcase. ‘I swore you in because there are matters we need to discuss that are bound up in the rules of the conclave.’
‘And if I’m not in, I’m out.’
‘Precisely,’ Donoher said. ‘Pope Leo has let the proverbial cat out of the bag.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Shortly before the start of the opening session, the late Pope’s personal assistant took me aside and gave me a disk containing a message from the late pontiff to the conclave. In it, His Holiness, God rest His soul,’ Donoher said the last phrase through clenched teeth, ‘revealed that Yin was in fact the cardinal he had named in pectore so many years ago, then as much as said that I was mounting a jailbreak to get him out and that the cardinal electors should consider Yin himself for the papacy.’
‘You’re kidding.’
Donoher’s expression was devoid of humor. ‘As we speak, my staff is preparing a dossier on Bishop Yin for the cardinal electors to review before the session tomorrow morning. Most of my esteemed brothers know very little about the man, and now that Yin is in the running, they would like to make a more informed decision.’
‘The talking heads of the media have been chattering about a secret cardinal,’ Grin offered. ‘So Bishop Yin is really a cardinal?’
‘No, but only because he could not be named publicly and attend a consistory. Yin was a cardinal only in the heart of Pope Leo, and until today, Nolan and I were the only ones brought into his confidence. It’s a dangerous secret,’ Donoher explained, ‘one I would have preferred stayed secret until after Yin was free.’
‘Is there really a chance Yin could be elected Pope?’
‘Honestly, I don’t know. I wouldn’t have thought it possible until Velu spoke up on his behalf — resulting in Yin drawing the second highest number of votes. It’s either the most selfless act I’ve ever seen or the most Machiavellian.’
‘How so?’ Grin asked.
‘Just an odd thought, but going into the conclave, there were five cardinals with a strong possibility of being elected. And since graft, bribery, and sex have little to do with Vatican politics these days, and there is no campaigning per se, a papal election boils down to networking and personality. You’d be right in thinking that five papabili would split the electorate five ways, making it unlikely that anyone would secure the supermajority required to win. I’m wondering, perhaps, if Velu might have backed Yin to muddy the waters.’
‘But wouldn’t that damage his own candidacy?’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. The introduction of Bishop Yin makes this a completely different race from what we were all expecting. Yin’s story evokes a certain amount of sympathy, which has translated into votes. Not enough to get him elected, mind you, but enough to shake the status quo. As long as Yin remains in China, he is unelectable, and once that reality begins to set in, his backers will begin to look elsewhere. They’ll remember Velu and the selfless act he performed in front of them all.’
‘You have a very devious mind, Your Eminence.’
‘This election will play out as God wills, but now I have to contend with a chapel full of cardinals who know we’re up to something in China. I pray for the sake of Nolan and the others that none of this information gets out.’
‘That would be bad,’ Grin agreed.
‘It would indeed.’
‘Any way to dissuade the Yin vote?’
‘Overtly, no, but I will certainly continue to do what I can without violating both the letter and the spirit of the Apostolic Constitution.’
Both of the news feeds on Grin’s monitors cut to a live image of a Vatican official delivering a statement to the press. In a split screen appeared a file photo of Cardinal Gagliardi.
‘You mind turning up the volume?’ Donoher was staring at the monitors.
‘Sure.’
‘—the Vatican has confirmed that it was indeed one of the cardinals who was rushed just a short time ago to the Gemelli Polyclinic here in Rome,’ a newscaster said off-screen. ‘The cardinal has been identified as Cardinal Gagliardi of Sicily, a long-time Vatican insider with a history of heart trouble. No word yet on the cardinal’s status, though clearly this is serious enough for him to be removed from the conclave.’
‘That’s enough,’ Donoher said.
Grin muted the feed. ‘You did have an exciting session.’ ‘Much more than I would have wished.’
23
Donoher displayed his identification to the security guards at the entrance to the cardiac care unit. Although most press members respected the needs of the patient and satisfied themselves with updates from the hospital’s public relations staff, there were some paparazzi who would employ any guise to get a photograph of a cardinal stricken ill during the conclave.
Once stabilized in the emergency room, Gagliardi was admitted to the CICU — the cardiac intensive care unit. The nurse station was an island in the center surrounded by glass-walled patient rooms. Cleared to enter the unit, Donoher was led by the head nurse to where the Sicilian cardinal lay under careful observation.
Through the glass, Donoher saw that Gagliardi was with another visitor — a man in his early forties who bore a strong resemblance to the Sicilian churchman, equally large-framed if much more physically fit. The man was talking on a cell phone.
‘If you’ll wait here a moment, Your Eminence,’ the nurse said, ‘I must have a word with the cardinal’s other visitor.’
Donoher could not hear the exchange, but the nurse was clearly irritated with the man’s use of a cell phone inside the hospital. Unrepentant, the man ended his call and slipped the phone into the pocket of his leather briefcase.
‘You may go in now,’ the nurse told Donoher as she exited the room, satisfied that order had been restored.
Gagliardi reclined in bed, his body connected by wires and tubes to a dozen different medical devices. He was still ashen and appeared old and frail. The cardinal’s other visitor leaned over him as Donoher entered the room.
‘Uncle, you have a visitor,’ he said in a warm, friendly tone.
Gagliardi opened his eyes and smiled weakly. Donoher wrapped his hands around one of Gagliardi’s — it felt cool and clammy.
‘It is very kind of you to come,’ Gagliardi said, his voice a hoarse whisper filled with emotion, ‘especially at such a difficult time.’
‘Wasn’t it you who once told me that caring for the sick is more important than paperwork? The others would be here as well if they could, but I am the only one permitted to leave the area of the conclave. Know that their prayers are with you, my friend.’
‘I know, and mine are with them.’ Gagliardi lifted his other hand feebly, pointing in the direction of the young man. ‘This is my nephew, Guglielmo Cusumano. He’s an antique book dealer here in Rome.’
‘An honor to meet you, Your Eminence,’ Cusumano said before kissing Donoher’s ring. ‘My uncle speaks very highly of you.’
‘It is good of you to be here. Family is very important at times like this.’