Two months later, the kitchen of the temple thrummed with activity. A two-day synod with most of the church’s bishops and archbishops would begin at a luncheon in a few hours. The casual kitchen demeanor was absent today; both chefs and sous-chefs were short-tempered and impatient. Some of the resident priests had volunteered to help, so the kitchen staff had doubled.
Tables were set for nearly seventy-five people in a dining room in one of the dormitories. Everyone helped serve. Even Tâm with her limp was tasked with refilling water glasses and replacing bowls, chopsticks, and spoons. They all worked without a break for several hours; thankfully, the heat had moderated and the monsoons were over.
In between meals—they would begin preparations for supper in an hour—the workers gathered outside to gossip.
“The archbishop seems to be in very good spirits,” Biên said, gulping down a quick cup of tea.
“He always is during these events,” Ly said. “Gives him a chance to show off the temple and the new additions.”
“What’s new?” Tâm asked
“I know there are some new relics of the saints,” Ly said. “I’m not sure what else, though.”
“Did you see the bishop from Da Nang?” Thủy said. “He looks as angry as a tiger whose prey has escaped.”
“Father Mạc?” Ly said.
“If that’s his name,” Thủy said.
“It could be because his girlfriend broke off their affair,” Ly said in a low voice.
“Girlfriend?” Tâm asked. “I thought priests were celibate.”
“The monks are. And a few priests who devote themselves to Cao Đài. But most priests are not, nor are they expected to be. It’s the higher clergy, anyone above the title of priest, who are required to be celibate,” Biên said.
“And you can see how that goes.” Ly grinned.
Everyone laughed.
“Did you see how Father Mạc eyed us when we were waiting on him at lunch?” Thủy asked Tâm. “I saw him checking you out. You’re probably on his list now. Don’t be surprised if he makes a move. You are very attractive.”
Tâm felt heat rise up from her neck. “I hope not,” she said. “I don’t want any trouble. I thought men and women had to sit separately, anyway.”
“Only during prayers,” Thủy answered.
“And even that doesn’t stop the Eye.” Ly raised his finger and pointed in the direction of the temple, where the giant eye rose above the altar.
Everyone laughed again.
“Stop. Now you are teasing me,” Tâm said good-naturedly, realizing the double entendre.
“Not really,” Ly said. “He’s quite the ladies’ man.”
“More than the priest who left a few months ago?” Biên asked.
“What priest?” Tâm said, hoping she sounded casual. General Minh’s lieutenant had said one of the possible spies was a womanizer.
“Like I said, Cao Đài doesn’t care what you did before you joined the church.” Ly arched his eyebrows. “There was a resident priest with us for about a year. But he left suddenly. No one knows why. But some church members swear they used to see him in town with prostitutes.”
Tâm sipped tea. “So the higher clergy forced him to leave?”
“Who knows?” Thủy said.
“Tell me, where were those other church members going when they claimed to have seen him with whores?” Ly said. “When it comes to the inner workings of the church, we can only speculate.”
Tâm put down her mug of tea. Suddenly she had two prospects for the “womanizer” spy. She needed to report back to Saigon. “What was the priest’s name? The one who left?”
“Why?” Ly joked. “You having troubles with your boyfriend?”
Tâm laughed. “I don’t have a boyfriend. But you never know.” She tried to joke back.
“What was his name?” Ly asked the others. “You remember. The man who was too vain to wear his glasses. He was always bumping into things.”
“Usually women.” Thủy grinned.
Biên bit his tongue. “Let me think. Father Huỳnh Van Hoa. Yes. That was it. From Hue.”
That night after supper at the church was cleared and the dishes were washed, Tâm rode her bike to one of the dead drops Lieutenant Khuyên had described. It was a fence on the eastern side of the market. At one point, it broke for a stone wall. She was to insert a note in one of the hollows of the stone and leave a mound of pebbles in front. She wrote the names of the two men and made sure to say she did not have proof of their espionage, but their names had come up among the staff as womanizers. One of the men had left the church soon after he was accused of fraternizing with whores. She thought it was information the general should have. Did they want her to go to Hue and discover more about Father Hoa? Or find out more about Father Mạc? She would wait for their response.