The drive was scenic, and he allowed himself to relax and think about the upcoming evening, which he hoped would not be quite as ghastly as he’d originally feared, especially with Jack present. His mind also drifted back to his major problem: how to talk Shawn out of publishing anything about the possibility the bones in the ossuary belonged to the Blessed Virgin. He shuddered anew at the thought of the consequences if he were unsuccessful. With the Church still reeling from loss of clerical authority due to the molestation crisis, the news would be devastating to the Church. It would be crushing to him personally as he believed the Holy See would be forced to sacrifice him as a scapegoat, thanks to Shawn’s machinations. With a profound sense of sadness, James found himself reminiscing over his journey of achieving his current position and his hopes for higher office.

James sighed as he wistfully recalled all the twists and turns of his career and now its possible end at the hands of a friend. It seemed the ultimate betrayal, a thought that suddenly gave him an idea. He realized it was the personal angle that would most likely affect Shawn’s decision to publish. James was well aware of Shawn’s negative attitude toward organized religion, such that any appeal in that arena would fall on deaf ears. James was also aware that Shawn was not particularly moral, but he was definitely a com mited friend. With a modicum of new optimism, James decided that his approach with Shawn was going to emphasize that his actions would injure him, James, and more or less downplay what they might do for the Church in general and its laity.

James exited the highway into the West Village and made his way to Morton Street, taking the first parking place he found. As an admittedly poor parallel parker, it took him ten minutes to get the Range Rover into the spot, and even though it ended up two feet away from the curb, he considered it parked well enough.