Chapter 22
Purcell spotted Vivian and Mercado sitting in the rear of the dark restaurant. They weren’t tête-à-tête, but they did seem at ease, talking and smiling.
He brushed past the hostess, walked to the table, and said, “Sorry I’m late.”
Mercado replied, “You’re a bit early, actually.”
Purcell did not shake hands with Mercado or kiss Vivian; he sat, still wearing his trench coat. Henry, he noticed, was looking a bit more trendy in a black leather jacket and black silk shirt.
Vivian said, “Henry has brought me up to date.”
“Good.”
There was a bottle of wine on the table, and Henry poured into an empty glass for Purcell, then raised his glass and said, “Ad astra per aspera. Through adversity to the stars.”
Purcell wondered how many Latin toasts Mercado had in him.
They touched glasses, and Vivian proposed, “To peace and friendship.”
Purcell lit a cigarette and scanned the room. The place looked as if it had been decorated with the stuff from the blankets, including the blankets themselves that hung on the walls. The tables were half empty, and the clientele seemed to be mostly African and well dressed, probably, Purcell thought, the cream of Ethiopian society who’d washed up on the banks of the Tiber.
Vivian, trying to keep the conversation going, said, “Henry told me about the research he’s done in the Vatican archives.”
Purcell didn’t respond.
Mercado said to her, “Frank was unimpressed.”
Vivian waited for Purcell to respond, then said, “Odd that they wouldn’t let you into the Ethiopian College.”
Mercado assured her, “I’ll work that out.” He added, “That is the type of practical research that would appeal to Frank’s practical mind.”
Mercado and Vivian continued their two-way conversation, the way they had before Purcell arrived, and Purcell knew he was not being civilized or sophisticated, and this probably pleased Mercado to no end. So to avoid a scene later with Vivian and to avoid giving Mercado the satisfaction of seeing him uncomfortable in this situation, Purcell said, “Henry and I have agreed to disagree about some things, but we agree that the three of us are going back to Ethiopia—if we can get in—and we are going to pick up where we left off when we buried Father Armano.”
Vivian nodded, then reminded Purcell, “You have something for Henry.”
“I do? Oh…” He reached into his coat pocket and set the bronze goblet on the table.
Mercado picked it up and looked at it.
Purcell announced, “We have found the Holy Grail.”
Vivian added, “At a street stall near the Termini.”
Mercado laughed, then turned the goblet upside down and said, “Indeed you have. Made in Jerusalem, 10 B.C., property of J. Arimathea.”
Vivian laughed.
Mercado said, “Well done, you two. Now Frank and I can get working on this story, then go our separate ways.”
Purcell thought that would be nice, but to keep the ice from refreezing, he said, “You need to research this grail, Henry.”
They all laughed, then Mercado picked up the wine bottle and poured into the bronze goblet. He said solemnly, “We will drink of this and this will be our covenant.” He passed the goblet to Vivian, who put it to her lips and drank, then passed it to Purcell. He drank and passed it to Mercado, who finished the wine and said, “May God bless our journey.”
Vivian reached out and took both men’s hands, though Purcell and Mercado did not join hands. Vivian lowered her head and said, “God rest Father Armano and all those who suffer and die in his name, in Ethiopia and around the world.”
The waiter, a tall thin black man wearing a colorful shamma, saw that they had completed their prayers and came by with menus, but Mercado stood and said, “I will leave you to enjoy this wonderful food and enjoy each other’s company—after your long separation.”
Purcell forced himself to say, “Please stay.”
“Yes, please stay, Henry.”
“I’ve let some work pile up at the office.”
Purcell stood and they shook hands, then Mercado came around and gave Vivian a peck on the cheek and left.
Purcell sat and the waiter left two menus.
Vivian said to Purcell, “Thank you.”
Purcell perused the menu.
Vivian informed him, “We’ve worked everything out.”
“Good. I hope you like lamb. Here’s a fish called Saint Peter’s fish.”
“He understands what happened and how it happened, and he understands that we are in love.”
“Good.”
“Did you tell him we were in love?”
Purcell put down the menu. “At the time I spoke to him, I didn’t know if we were.”
“Well, you know now.”
“I do.” He looked at her and said, “A piece of advice, Vivian. Henry Mercado is a charming rogue. He is also a manipulator and a con artist.” He added, “Don’t get me wrong—I like him. But we need to keep an eye on him.”
She thought about that, then replied, “He’s not trying to… reseduce me.”
“He would if he could. But what I’m talking about is our partnership with him.” He nodded toward the goblet. “Our new covenant.”
She stayed quiet for a few seconds, then said, with some insight, “I was easy for him. But I think he knows he’s met his match with you.”
Purcell couldn’t have said it better, and he smiled at Vivian. “I have met my match with you.”
“You never stood a chance, Frank.”
She filled the goblet with wine and passed it to him. He drank and passed it back to her. She said, “If you believe in love, you believe in God.”
Where had he heard that before?
