Part 6 (1/2)

There was a sound as the door behind them opened and a man with close-cropped gray-white hair entered. He was nearly six feet tall and handsome and carried with him an aura that was both aristocratic and at the same time kind and humane. He wore the black ca.s.sock and red sash of a cardinal of the Church. A red zucchetto was on his head, and a gold pectoral cross hung from a chain around his neck.

”Eminence...” Father Bardoni bowed slightly.

The man nodded, his eyes going to Harry. ”I am Cardinal Marsciano, Mr. Addison. I came to offer my deepest sympathies.”

Marsciano's English was excellent, and he seemed to be comfortable speaking it. The same was true of his manner; his eyes, his body language, everything about him comfortable and comforting.

”Thank you, Eminence...” Friend of power brokers and world celebrities, Harry had never once been in the presence of a cardinal, let alone a man of Marsciano's stature within the Church. Having been brought up Catholic, no matter how nonreligious, how totally non-churchgoing he was now, Harry was humbled. It was as if he were being visited by a head of state.

”Father Daniel was my personal secretary, and had been for many years...”

”Yes, I know...”

”You are waiting here now, in this room, because it is your wish to see him...”

”Yes.”

”You had no way of knowing, but Father Bardoni called me while you were with Signore Gasparri. He thought perhaps I would have better luck in dissuading you than he.” The slightest hint of a smile rose then left. ”I have seen him, Mr. Addison. I was the one the police asked to identify the body. I have seen the horror of his death. What the proud inventions of mankind can do.”

”It doesn't matter....” Marsciano's presence aside, Harry was resolute; what he had chosen to do was deep and very personal, between Danny and himself. ”I hope you can understand.”

Marsciano was silent for a long moment. Finally he spoke. ”Yes, I can understand.”

Father Bardoni hesitated, then left the room.

”You are very much like him,” Marsciano said quietly. ”That is a compliment.”

”Thank you, Eminence.”

Immediately a door near the altar opened and Father Bardoni came back in. He was followed immediately by Gasparri and a heavy-set man wearing a crisp white jacket who pushed a hospital gurney. On it was a small wooden coffin no bigger than a child's. Harry felt his heart catch in his throat. Inside it was Danny, or what was left of him. Harry took a deep breath and waited. How do you prepare for something like this? How does anyone? How do you prepare for something like this? How does anyone? Finally he looked to Father Bardoni. Finally he looked to Father Bardoni.

”Ask him to open it.”

”Are you certain?”

”Yes.”

Harry saw Marsciano nod. Gasparri hesitated, and then in one motion leaned forward and removed the lid from the casket.

For a moment Harry did nothing. Then, steeling himself, he stepped forward and looked down. As he did, he heard himself gasp. The thing was on its back. Most of the right torso was gone. Where there should have been a face there was a crushed ma.s.s of skull and matted hair, with a jagged hole where the right eye would have been. Both legs had been sheared off at the knee. He looked for the arms, but there were none. What made the whole thing even more obscene was that someone had pulled on a pair of underpants, as if to protect the viewer from the indecency of the genitals, whether they were there or not.

”Oh, G.o.d,” he breathed. ”Oh, f.u.c.king G.o.d!” Horror and disgust and loss swept over him. The color drained from his face, and he had to put out his hand to keep his balance. Somewhere he heard the rattle of Italian, and it took a moment before he realized Gasparri was talking.

”Signore Gasparri apologizes for what your brother looks like,” Father Bardoni said. ”He wants to cover him again, to take him away.”

Harry's eyes lifted to Gasparri. ”Tell him no, not yet...”

Fighting everything in him, Harry turned to look at the mutilated torso once more. He had to pull himself together. To think. To say silently to Danny what needed to be said. Then he saw Cardinal Marsciano gesture and Gasparri move forward with the lid. At the same time something else registered.

”No!” he said sharply, and Gasparri froze where he was. Reaching out, Harry touched the cold chest, then ran his fingers down under the left nipple. Suddenly he felt his legs turn to rubber.

”Are you all right, Mr. Addison?” Father Bardoni moved toward him.

Abruptly Harry pulled away and looked up. ”It's not him. It's not my brother.”

14.

HARRY DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO THINK OR how to feel. That it might be someone other than Danny in the casket had never occurred to him. That after everything-the police work, the investigations by how many agencies, the recovery of the personal articles, the identification of the body by Cardinal Marsciano, the death certificate-they could have made this kind of error was unconscionable.

Cardinal Marsciano put a hand on his sleeve. ”You are weary and filled with grief, Mr. Addison. In circ.u.mstances like this our hearts and emotions do not always let us think clearly.”

”Eminence,” Harry said sharply. They were all staring at him-Marsciano, Father Bardoni, Gasparri, and the man in the starched white jacket. Yes, he was tired. Yes, he was filled with grief. But his thinking had never been clearer in his life.

”My brother had a large mole under his left nipple. It's called a third breast. I've seen it a thousand times. Medically it's known as a supernumerary nipple. Whoever's in that casket has no mole under his left nipple. That person is not my brother. It's as simple as that.”

CARDINAL MARSCIANO closed the door to Gasparri's office, then gestured toward a pair of gilded chairs in front of the funeral director's desk.

”I'll stand,” Harry said.

Marsciano nodded and sat down.

”How old are you, Mr. Addison?”

”Thirty-six.”

”And how long has it been since you last saw your brother without his s.h.i.+rt or with it, for that matter? Father Daniel was not merely an employee, he was a friend. Friends talk, Mr. Addison.... You had not seen him for many years, had you?”

”Eminence, that person is not my brother.”

”Moles can be removed. Even from priests. People do it all the time. I should imagine you, in your business, would know that better than I.”

”Not Danny, Eminence-especially not Danny. Like most everyone else, he was insecure growing up. What made him feel better about himself was when he had things other people didn't. Or did things differently from those around him. He used to drive our mother crazy opening his s.h.i.+rt and showing his mole to people. He liked to think it was some kind of secret baronial mark, and that he was really descended from royalty. And unless he changed deeply and immeasurably since then, he would never have had it removed. It was a badge of honor, it kept him apart.”

”People do change, Mr. Addison,” Cardinal Marsciano spoke gently and quietly. ”And Father Daniel did change a great deal in the years I knew him.”

For a long moment Harry stared, saying nothing. When he did speak, he was quieter but no less adamant. ”Isn't it possible there was a mix-up at the morgue? That maybe another family has Danny's body in a sealed casket without knowing it?... It's not unreasonable to imagine.”

”Mr. Addison, the remains you saw are those I identified.” The cardinal's response was sharp, even indignant. ”Presented to me by the Italian authorities.” No longer the comforter, Marsciano had suddenly become acerbic and authoritative.

”Twenty-four people were on that bus, Mr. Addison. Eight survived. Fifteen of the dead were positively identified by members of their own families. That left only one....” For the briefest moment Marsciano's manner reverted and his humanity returned. ”I, too, had hopes that a mistake had been made. That it was someone else. That perhaps Father Daniel was still away, unaware of what had happened.