Braun met him in the middle of the room.

“It’s good of you to come,” Braun said when they were face-to-face. The cardinal extended his hand. Morgen hesitated for a moment and studied the cardinal’s face with a proprietary interest that briefly shook Braun’s composure. Finally the two men shook hands.

“I wasn’t aware that I had any choice but to comply with your summons,” Morgen said evenly. The cardinal ignored the remark, an affront that would ordinarily be the subject of severe discipline coming from a lowly priest.

“I took the liberty of having tea prepared,” he said as he stood up quickly and walked to the door. Morgen turned in his seat and watched as the archbishop of Vienna took a silver tray from someone who stood in the shadows. Braun thanked the person and returned with the tray that he then put down in the middle of the table. “Please help yourself.” He indicated the tray with its silver tea urn and pitchers of hot water and milk. The tray also contained two bone china cups and saucers, two small biscuit plates, linen napkins, and an array of tea sandwiches, biscuits, and condiments.

“High tea is a custom I picked up while a student at Oxford,” Braun explained as he took one of the plates and decorated it with an assortment of food. “It seems to me such a civilized way to provide some rest and contemplation for long working days.”

Morgen murmured something noncommittal as he got up and approached the silver service. He stood to Braun’s right and silently prepared a cup of tea with lemon.

Each man had prepared his tea and selected a plate of food.

“Shall we sit?” Braun asked. He motioned with his hand toward one end of the oblong table. Morgen nodded and took the indicated chair. Braun seated himself at the opposite end. They were silent, sizing each other up.

“You probably wonder why I’ve invited you here.”

Morgen knew, but instead of answering, he took a sip of his tea and waited in silence. He looked down at a cassette recorder on the table and at theinicrophone sitting beside it.

The cardinal took a sip from the cup, set it down at his end of the table.

“I would like for you to tell me about your time in Alt Aussee,” Braun said. “About the day when…”

“When I nearly died.”

Braun nodded.

“But I have told that story before,” Morgen said without any trace of annoyance. “Twice. To the men from the CDF and to … to the tribunal, two Assessors ago.”

“I know,” Braun said, “But I am hoping that perhaps there may be details that you have remembered since. Details that have … come back to you.”

Morgen smiled. “Brain tissue does not heal well,” the priest said. “Some say not at all. I have learned to live with the limitations caused by that day. I certainly am not aware of any recovery in my memory.”