Forbidden Sanctuary by Richard Bowker

Author:Richard Bowker
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 0-345-29871-3
Publisher: Del Ray / Ballantine Books
Published: 1982-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

15

“Jesus Christ, you shoulda been there,” Fitzgerald said. “I’ve never seen him so p.o.’d. I thought the walls in the Oval Office would crack. You ever seen Gibson when he’s in one of those fits?”

“No, sir,” Madeleine West replied.

“I’ll bet he had an even worse one when he heard what the Pope did. He was pretty calm by the time he got back to me, though.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, full speed ahead, of course. He also wanted a progress report, which is why I called you, obviously. Got the guy yet?”

“Sorry.”

“Can’t win ’em all. What have you got?”

West took a deep breath, marshaled her facts, and began. “We interviewed Bernardi’s fellow priests at the Jesuit residence. No one saw him leaving or returning that night He took a tan ’99 Plymouth Excelsior minicoupe; apparently none of his personal possessions are missing. The conclusion is that he didn’t return there after getting Tenon. There’s no way of knowing how much money he had, but it couldn’t have been a great deal. We put the Plymouth into the police computer identisystem as a top priority for the East Coast and Midwest. At ten this morning it was discovered parked on a side street near Penn Station in New York. There was a parking ticket on it written at 2:07 the day before yesterday, so we may assume they were in the city at some time before that. We have so far been unable to trace anything of their movements between Greenough and New York, and I doubt that we’ll be able to.”

“What about after New York?”

“Nothing. They could have taken a train, a plane, rented a car, you name it. However, without much cash they couldn’t get very far unless they used a credit card. We’re checking on that now.”

“Hard to believe this guy Bernardi’d be stupid enough to use a credit card. It’d be like sending us a map.”

“I agree. But there might be someplace he wanted to get to, where he’d feel secure. He might be willing to let us know the city he was headed for, let’s say, aware that he’d have a day or two’s head start. After all, he couldn’t keep driving that Plymouth.”

“He might still be in the city, though.”

“That, I think, is more probable. Bernardi was raised in New York. He has all kinds of relatives and friends there. My feeling is that he came home for help—transportation or lodging. We’ve just got to do some legwork and see if that’s true.”

“What’s this guy’s background, anyway? He seems like kind of an odd one.”

West reached for the paper on the far side of her desk. “Born 1961, New York City. Attended local parochial schools and Fordham University—where he met Anthony Collingwood, by the way. After graduation, entered the Jesuit Order in 1983, studied—”

“Yeah, yeah. Very interesting. What’s the real poop, though?”

“Well, he’s an only child. Father died when he was young. Very likable, athletic, socially active growing up. Sort of a natural leader, evidently, and religious besides.

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