Chapter 280: In Good Faith
"I am at a loss for words. My client has, in good faith, offered to talk to you about things he has heard and help the law enforcement community solve long-dead cold cases. Cases which you initially asked about. And now that we have basic agreements in place and he wishes to talk to you and give details, you suddenly declare that it isn't enough and wish to change the deal? I'm not sure what type of bargaining you are engaging in, but it lacks the needed 'good faith' to be taken seriously! I will not badger my client with your demands, and will be putting in a complaint with the courts over this type of dealings."
Inspector Deville of Interpol let the lawyers outraged words fade away before he answered. "I believe you have misunderstood me, Mr. St. Clair. We are not changing anything. We are cancelling parts of the deals we have offered. They are off the table. Gone and not coming back. We no longer need your clients information, so I can hardly be expected to trade favors with you and him."
Captain Delaque, sitting next to him added his own version of those words. "Day late, dollar short. We aren't buying what he wants to sell."
Bernard St. Claire looked from one man to the other. "This is highly unorthodox. I'm not sure I believe you. I will need to speak with someone in authority. Someone with more authority. This is simply not done! My client is not going to work with you. There will be consequences, gentlemen. I know who to speak to on these matters. If you will not be dealing with my client, someone else will be interested and I will push to have him extradited to those locations to aid in solving old crimes and putting them to rest."
The Inspector waited a full thirty seconds for the lawyer to run out of steam, curious if he had any other cards he would put into play. "That is, of course, up to you and Mr. Seimovich. But let me emphasize a point. We were very interested. We are no longer interested. I'm you can think of reasons why that might have changed. Mr. Seimovich will find that he lacks a buyer for the first two items on the list, and the third item he has indicated he knows nothing about. The Captain and I are doing you and he a courtesy in letting you know that the need for such information is gone. Good day to you, sir, and please give Mr. Seimovich my best."
The lawyer sat with his mouth slightly open in disbelief and anger as he watched the two men left the room in good spirits. Cutting deals to close cases was a necessary evil in law enforcement, and not one that everyone agreed with. In this case, closing doors that might have let Victor Seimovich walk away was satisfying. So satisfying that they were off to a luncheon at the Garrick Club. It was an informal affair to honor the winners of the latest poker tournament. The unexpected third place showing of a team of newcomers had brought some excitement to the event and shook up the odds. There job of disappointing a lawyer finished, the two boarded a waiting taxi to take them to lunch.
"Don't need to know! What do you mean they don't need to know? These are old secrets I an offering! Huge secrets! They came to us, asking for them." Victor was pacing on his side of the conference room, absently tugging on his orange coveralls that never seemed to fit right.
The man from the Mossad wasn't amused, while everyone else laughed. "His family has wished him to have a proper burial for 28 years, Cardinal Bartonella, and hope that this can be accomplished in the coming weeks. We understand the delicacy of doing the work here in the Vatican, but plead that you can help us bring this man home to Israel."
The Cardinal nodded, books were consulted, and marks made on the maps. Finally the Cardinal smiled. "Luckily, my predecessor was a stickler for details and keeping notes. This is the spot where they must have buried him. The trench was dug, but not filled in for a week after that. It ran between the tombs of Saint Thomas the Unbeliever and Saint Elric the Pale. The spot can be easily pinpointed, but I'm afraid I have some bad news, it will not be a matter of digging there and recovering his bones."
Everyone was silent for a moment. The representative from the Mossad began, "Cardinal, I must insist..."
Bartonella held up a hand for silence. "My apologies, I'm stating this badly. You see, that gas line developed a leak and had to be dug up again. In doing so, one of the men noticed the spot where the ground had dipped, creating a bend in the pipe that had created the leak. Further digging revealed a body buried in the ground, deeper than we believe had been dug before. This is embarrassing, but you must take my word for how fervent Father Genovese was. He was so certain of who he had found, and may have overlooked proper protocol. At the time the church didn't know of anyone else buried in that courtyard, but assumed he was a priest or cardinal buried there in an unmarked grave as a sign of his piousness and poverty. Father Genovese was certain it was the grave of Saint Edward the pious, the beggar priest of Scotland. He died on a trip to visit the Pope, and the Holy Father was said to have honored his request to be buried in an unmarked grave. We reburied him, according to his wishes, in an empty courtyard, but word got out and several hundred people a day come to pray there."
"Are you saying?"
"Why, yes, he was laid to rest and has been hailed as a saint for the last twelve years."
The Interpol agent had a half smile on his face. "A Jewish man became a Christian Saint?"
The cardinal smiled as did his assistant priest. "Not without precedent. You have to remember that the original twelve apostles were also good Jewish boys who became Saints. Don't worry, I'll start the proceedings and we'll have him home to you in no time at all, no later than the next Synod."
