Knock Three Times

7. Deduction

                HEELS OF RECENTLY POLISHED black shoes tapped along the cobblestone streets like two dark mirrors moving confident over cobblestone as Father Jeremy approached an ancient structure. The grand temple had been part of the Vatican's history since before any of the surrounding buildings had been erected. Constantly updated and as old as the historic city itself, the sheer size of the palace-like building was intimidating to most newer members of the clergy, which was the case for young Jeremy during his first years on assignment, but not as of recent. Along the cement rim of the domed roof were many angelic sculptures which seemed to come alive when the sun shown down at just the right angle, but the young priest rarely took the time to fully appreciate the immaculate architecture of Vatican City. He was a busy man, and there were pressing matters at hand.

    The good priest was only recently assigned to one of the most covert and controversial programs within the whole of the Papacy, a position rarely sought amongst his brethren. In his early thirties, the hair on his neatly trimmed, well-groomed beard had only begun to sprout the odd gray, but he felt it only added to his charm. He was one of the more intelligent priests within his diesis, but lacking experience, was rarely taken seriously, even though his theories and conclusions were never proven inaccurate, though questioned regularly, regardless.

    His job was simple, yet his practices were considered most complex. Father Jeremy was only one of many Vatican specialists assigned to the controversial study of the paranormal. His purpose was to investigate spiritual anomalies around the world, and to prove or disprove their conclusive authenticity in relation to the Catholic faith. In fact, he had just returned from Barcelona on one such assignment, a weeping statue of the Savior which grew massive crowds from distant lands.

    Slightly jetlagged, he forced the spring in his step, thinking only of his sleeping quarters and the single bed that had been calling his name for weeks.

    Climbing the wide steps before the building, the priest passed through the towering Roman pillars and pushed open the broad double doors where his superior had been waiting. A thick file wedged under his arm, he carried a paper coffee cup in each hand which he delivered upon meeting the Cardinal.

    'Right on time, as per usual.' The quaint clergyman checked his wrist watch. 'Punctuality and fresh coffee will get you far in our line of work, Father Jeremy; welcome back.'

    'I do try, Cardinal Paul.'

    Jeremy had practically been raised by Cardinal Paul, his kind eyes and generally good nature were always a comfort upon returning from lengthy or physically and emotionally taxing assignments. Paul was only a priest when Jeremy had first met him years ago, before the boy could grow facial hair. His blonde hair had turned a shimmering silver since, which seemed to add a sense of wisdom to his seemingly innate humble appearance. Though he was a busy man, to say the least, Paul never failed to take the time to get to know the young priest, to catch up in matters of faith or personal turmoil whenever possible. He was a respected man by any who worked with him, and loved by those closest.

    'I trust your trip to Spain has yielded substantial results?' he asked, his traditional red and black cassock gracefully flowing and sweeping along the steps as they climbed one of many staircases atop the wide landing. The dense marble floor echoed every footstep as they walked.

    'There is little concern about the case, as far as I'm concerned; though there may be a few inquires we should probably look into.'

    'Such as?' asked the Cardinal, his left hand tucked behind his back as he walked, a signature sign he was comfortable with his company.

    'The good people of the village have some concerns regarding the authority of the church in matters they believe are outside our jurisdiction.'

    'Yes, of course. We'll talk more in our offices, in the presence of Cardinal Merrill, of course.'