The camera settled on Donati again. “Luscious Luigi,” saidVeronica. “He hated that article inVanity Fair, but it made him a star inside the Church.”
“You should have seen the waiters at Piperno.”
“How lucky you are, Gabriel. Just once I’d like to share a lunch with him in public on a perfect Roman afternoon.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Does he ever talk about me?”
“Incessantly.”
“Really? And what does he say?”
“That you are a good friend.”
“And do you believe that?”
“No,” said Gabriel. “I believe you are desperately in love with him.”
“Is it that obvious?” She smiled sadly. “And what about Luigi? How does he feel about me?”
“You would have to ask him.”
“Ask him what, exactly? Are you still in love with me, Archbishop? Will you renounce your vows and marry me before it’s too late?”
“You’ve never?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m afraid of what his answer might be. If he says no, I’ll be heartbroken. And if he says yes...”
“You’ll feel like the worst person in the world.”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“Except when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“You have a perfect marriage.”
“I’m married to a perfect woman. Don’t confuse the two.”
“And if you were in my position?”
“I’d tell Luigi how I felt. Sooner rather than later.”
“When?”
“How about later this afternoon?”
“At the Jesuit Curia? I can’t think of a place I’d rathernotbe. All those priests,” said Veronica. “And they’ll all be gawking at me.”
“Actually, I rather doubt that.”
She made a show of thought. “What does one wear to a conclave party?”
“White, I believe.”
“Yes,” said Veronica. “I believe you’re right.”
At the conclusion of the Mass, the cardinal-electors filed out of the basilica and returned to the Casa Santa Marta for lunch. Alois Metzler rang Gabriel from the noisy lobby. Father Graf, he said, was on ice in a Rome morgue. He would remain there until the conclusion of the conclave, when his body would be discovered in the hills outside Rome, an apparent suicide. Veronica’s name would appear in none of the reports. Neither would Gabriel’s.