“But,” said Toussaint, “even as we talk, I am certain there are at least a couple of men who are preparing themselves to commit murder.”
A tremor ran through Koesler.
Toussaint glanced about several times. “Bob, do you have the feeling we are being followed? That someone is watching us?”
Koesler reflected. “No, I don’t. But that may be because, to my knowledge, I’ve never been followed. I don’t think anyone ever thought I was worth following. I’m not sure I’d recognize the feeling if I were.”
“Do not be concerned, Bob. I may very well be mistaken.”
The guide cleared his throat, preliminary to continuing his spiel.
“Now this, ladies and gents, very ornate and obviously ancient wooden chair is the very throne used for the coronation of King Edward the First. And it has been used in the coronation of all subsequent English monarchs with the two exceptions of Edward V and Edward VIII. The coronation ritual has developed and changed over the centuries. But the coronation chair has remained the same over all.
“Now, you’ll note the obvious presence of a large gray rock set right within the confines of the chair. That, ladies and gents, is the famed Stone of Scone. In 1296, Edward ‘malleus Scotorum’ captured the stone from the Scots, who had crowned most of their kings on their ‘stone of destiny,’ brought it to London and, at a cost of one hundred shillings, had this special oak chair made to contain it. Both the chair and the stone have been used at English coronations ever since.
“And now, ladies and gents, we’ll just be movin’ along.” He checked his watch. “Time’s gettin’ short and we don’t want you to miss Madame Tussaud’s.”
“What’s this ceremony tonight supposed to be, anyway, another Mass?” Joe Cox asked.
“Not hardly,” Pat Lennon replied. “It’s some sort of ecumenical or intersectarian service. They can’t hold a Mass. The Catholics and Anglicans don’t agree with each other enough to hold a Mass. And the ceremony is going to have a couple of Catholic Cardinals along with the Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury.”
“Well, don’t the Anglicans hold Masses in here?” Cox persisted.
“They call them something like communion services.”
“Don’t the Catholics have communion services?”
“Well, yes; but they’re not the same.”
“What’s the difference?”
Lennon sighed. It was all so complicated. And, in the final analysis, she wasn’t all that interested in all this ecclesiastical red tape.
“Maybe it would help, Joe, if you thought of it in terms of an Australian tag wrestling match.”
“Now you’re cooking.”
“The way Catholics view their Church is that Jesus Christ established it. He chose the Apostles to, in effect, be the first bishops, and gave the primacy—or ‘the power of the keys’—to Peter. They, in turn, selected others to succeed them; those others selected others, who selected others, and so on. For instance, Peter became the first bishop of Rome. And he was succeeded by Linus, then Cletus, then Clement, and so on, down to the present Pope, Leo XIV.
“But, as far as Catholics are concerned, today’s bishops of Christian sects are real bishops only if they can trace themselves in a direct line from the Apostles.”
“And that means that only Catholic bishops qualify,” Cox supplied.
“Not necessarily. The Orthodox bishops—Greek, Russian, and so forth—are also direct descendants of the Apostles, but they don’t recognize the Pope as the supreme leader of Christianity, so they’re not Catholic. But the Catholics recognize
“Then what’s the matter with the Anglicans?”
“In the beginning, nothing. At the time of Henry VIII, all England was Catholic. When Henry decided to do it his way, the bishops were still kosher, to mix a metaphor. But then, somewhere along the line, the Catholics decided that the Anglicans had broken the chain. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“To return to your original metaphor,” Cox was trying to clarify her explanation for his own comprehension, “just as in an Australian tag match, the partner in the ring has to touch his partner on the apron of the ring before the inactive one can take his place . . . so each prospective bishop has to be touched by a valid predecessor in order to be an authentic successor bishop. Right?”
“I think he’s got it . . . by George, he’s got it!”
“I have only one further question: What makes
“There are two kinds of people who go through a complete primary, secondary, and college Catholic education: those who pay attention, and those who don’t. I belong to the former group.”
They had to hurry. Lost in conversation, Cox and Lennon had fallen behind the group who had exited St. Edward’s Chapel and reentered the main section of the abbey.
“Now, ladies and gents, I’ll just call your attention to the high altar here. Isn’t it a beauty! The high altar and that very ornate wooden screen behind it that runs along the whole wall were designed by Sir Gilbert Scott in 1867. The mosaic just above the altar, as you can well see, represents the Last Supper. It is at the high altar that the truly great services take place. The ecumenical service tonight, in fact, will take place right here. And that large golden cross you see over there on the left is the very processional cross that will be used in tonight’s service.
“And now, ladies and gents, we’ll just go on through the north transept here. And I’ll just point out a few things to you as we continue on out through the north entrance and board our coach for the final leg of our tour.”
As the group began moving out, Toussaint noticed that Koesler had remained behind just outside the sanctuary directly in front of the high altar. He was standing stock-still, looking intently at the floor.
Toussaint crossed to him. “What is it, my friend?”
“Ramon, I know we weren’t supposed to be looking for anything in particular, but I think I found something anyway.”
Toussaint followed Koesler’s gaze to a spot on the floor. There, almost blending in with the Persian carpet, were two images of black fists, side by side.
The two stood motionless for a moment.
“My friend,” said Toussaint, “I believe you have stumbled upon the very spot where the assault is planned to take place. Congratulations.”
“We have to get word of this to Inspector Koznicki!” It was Koesler’s first thought.
“Yes. But we cannot alarm or alert any of the others, especially those two reporters. It will be important that the police alone know about this.” He thought for a moment. “You go now and inform the Inspector about what you have discovered. I will continue on with the group and conclude the tour. If anyone asks about you, I will make some excuse for your absence. Now go, my friend.”
Koesler hurried for the west entrance while Toussaint caught up with the tour group just as it was exiting the abbey.
As Toussaint boarded the bus he seemed lost in thought. Gradually, his thoughts were transformed into prayers; prayers of gratitude for the success they had so far enjoyed in protecting Cardinal Boyle, and prayers of petition for continued success.
“Now, ladies and gents, here we are at our last stop today, the very famous and, if I may say so, infamous, Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum.
“Be careful now, each of you, to take one of these passes as you leave the coach. With the pass, you won’t be needin’ to buy a ticket at the door.
“Now, ladies and gents, the exhibition takes up four floors of the museum. On the ground floor is the Battle of Trafalgar. On the first floor, you’ll find the Grand Hall containin’ kings and queens as well as the present royal family. On the upper floor will be the tableaux, the conservatory, and some of yer popular heroes. And, ladies and gents, below ground, and appropriately enough, I might add, is the Chamber of Horrors.
“We’ve only an hour, so step lively now. The next time I see you folks I won’t be able to recognize you ‘cause your hair’ll be standin’ on end after goin’ through the Chamber of Horrors.”
