98

Father Thierry Ateba unlocked the Librarian’s office suite, entered, and closed the ornate door behind. He crossed himself as though in the presence of death, although the death of Cardinal Cossa, of which Father Ateba had just learned, had occurred within the hour on the Janiculum Hill, not here. The room, of course, did not know its occupant was gone forever, and the Cardinal’s open books, his papers, and his humidor all sat as he had left them, awaiting his return.

It would fall to Father Ateba, as Lorenzo Cossa’s personal secretary, to sort and organize these items, to separate Cardinal Cossa’s possessions from those of the Church and ensure that each item was ultimately disposed of as it must be. It would take time, but meticulousness and patience were two of Father Ateba’s virtues. He glanced about the room, unconsciously planning his strategy for where to begin, how to conscientiously, efficiently fulfill this final responsibility. After his work was complete, he himself would no longer be needed here. The new Librarian and Archivist would bring with him his own assistant.

Father Ateba moved to the window and threw it open to rid the air of the lingering smell of cigar smoke; not offensive, but an odor he had never liked. Turning back to the room, he regarded the books and papers on the late Cardinal’s desk. Father Ateba had been made privy to the work the Cardinal was doing, and he wondered if the new Librarian would want to continue it.

He walked to the desk, the obvious place to begin. First, though, now that he was alone here where he wouldn’t be disturbed, one other task demanded his attention. As he’d been requested to do when he’d received the sad news, he took his cell phone from his jacket pocket and pressed in a number. He was greeted by a voice familiar to him for many, many years.

“Salve.”

“Salve. Sum Thierry Ateba. Quid aegis?”

“Hic nobis omnibus bene est. Quomodo auxilium vobis dare possumus?”