“No, I’d like you to help me try to change Shawn and Sana’s opinion on publishing their work. I want to make them realize how much harm will come from it by appealing to their better judgment. I know Shawn is a good man, even if he’s somewhat vain and self-indulgent.”

Jack shook his head. “If what I remember about Shawn’s desire for fame and fortune is still true, it’s going to be a tough sell. Changing his mind is going to be nearly impossible. This is the kind of story that will take him out of the dry archaeological journals and catapult him into Newsweek, Time, and People.”

“I know it will be difficult, but we must do it. We must try.”

Although Jack wasn’t optimistic about changing Shawn’s mind, which he imagined was set in stone, he had no idea about Sana.

“There’s one other thing,” James added. “Whether or not you’re willing to help, I must ask you to keep this in the strictest confidence. You cannot tell a soul, not even your wife. At the moment, the only people who know of the ossuary’s supposed contents are the Daughtrys, me, and you. It must stay that way. Can I have your word on that?”

“Of course,” said Jack, though he knew he would have a difficult time not telling Laurie. It was a truly fascinating story.

“Oh, dear God,” James voiced after glancing at his watch. “I must leave at once for Gracie Mansion.”

They stood, and James enveloped Jack in a rapid hug. As Jack returned the gesture, he could feel how plump his friend had become. Jack vowed to take him to task at a more opportune moment. Jack could also hear a slight wheeze when James breathed.

“So, you are willing to help in this most unfortunate episode?” James asked, as he snapped up his skullcap that he’d put on the chair to his left and returned it to his head.

“Of course,” Jack said, “but can I have permission to tell my wife? She’s the soul of discretion.”

James stopped abruptly. “Absolutely not,” he said, staring into Jack’s eyes. “I don’t know your wife, although I do hope to meet her. But I’m sure she has a friend whom she trusts as much as you trust your wife. I must insist you not breathe a word of this to her or anyone. Can you promise me that?”

“You have my word,” Jack responded quickly. He felt impaled by James’s glare.

“Good,” James responded simply. He turned and continued out of the room.

As if by magic, Father Maloney appeared near the foyer and handed His Eminence his coat and a stack of phone messages. While James struggled into his coat, Jack mentioned that his bomber jacket was in the study. Without a word, the priest quickly disappeared.

“I’ll hear from you soon?” James asked Jack.