Once Pete had navigated the crosstown traffic and turned onto Madison, the drive up to Saint Patrick’s Cathedral was slow but steady. It took a bit less than thirty minutes by the time Pete was able to pull over to the side of the road next to the residence. As soon as they’d come to a stop, Jack hopped out, slid open the van’s door, got the ossuary over to the edge, and then lifted it. By then Pete had come around, and he closed the slider.

“I appreciate the help, Pete,” Jack said over his shoulder.

“No problem,” Pete said, eyeing the stark, gray stone residence.

Jack hauled the ossuary up the front stone steps and, balancing it on a bent knee, gave the receiving bell a good pull. Within he could hear the chimes. Always mindful of possible imminent disasters, Jack could suddenly see himself dropping the awkward ossuary down the stone steps, where it would certainly shatter and dump the bones, scrolls, glass panes, codex, and Saturninus’s letter out onto the concrete. As a consequence, Jack gripped the stone more tightly and was even contemplating putting it down when the door was swept open by the same priest who’d welcomed him to lunch.

“Dr. Stapleton,” Father Maloney commented. “What can I do for you?”

“It might be nice to invite me in,” Jack suggested, with a touch of sarcasm.

“Yes, of course, come in!” Father Maloney stepped back to give room. “Is the cardinal expecting you?”

“He might be, since he knows more about what’s been going on than I, but I’m not certain. Why don’t I wait where I waited last week?”

“That is a superb idea. The archbishop is meeting now with the vicar general, but I will let him know you are here.”

“Very good,” Jack said. On his own, he’d already started down the hall, clearly remembering where the small private study was located. Father Maloney sprinted ahead and held the door ajar by the time Jack arrived. The first thing Jack did was place the ossuary on the floor. He was careful not to damage the flawless surface.

“Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”

“If you sense it is going to be a while, a newspaper might be nice.”

“Would the Times suffice?”

“That would be fine.”

Father Maloney closed the door behind him. Jack looked around the ascetic room, noting the same details he had on the previous visit, including the strong but not overbearing odor of cleaning fluid and floor wax. Already starting to get warm, he pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it onto the small club chair. Then he sat down on the mini-couch exactly as he’d done when he’d come for lunch, making him acknowledge how much a creature of habit he was.