Free All He Saw Was the Girl by Peter Leonard Page B

transept, using a column for cover. He saw a monk appear
behind the altar, hands in prayer, genuflecting before the crucifix. He had
seen monks in their simple brown tunics outside the church and knew there was a
monastery next door. The monk made the sign of the cross. He lighted candles on
the altar, a dozen of them, taking his time. He did not seem to notice the
soccer bag that was clearly out of place in the house of God.
        The
monk lighted a few more candles and came back to the altar. Now he seemed to
focus on the soccer bag, bending his legs, genuflecting, and disappearing from
view. Arturo hesitated for a minute, thinking the monk was still on his knees,
praying, but then he saw him reappear with the bag, moving behind the altar.
The monk moved to the rear wall and disappeared again. Arturo radioed Luciano,
"Did you see him, the monk? Let's go."
     
     
        They
were sitting outside at a cafe in Campo di Fiori, the market bustling with activity,
women hassling vendors over the price of parsley and basil and tomatoes,
everyone wanting a bargain.
        "You
don't look like a priest," Angela said, looking at his hair pulled back in
a rakish ponytail. "Priests don't have hair like that. You'll call too
much attention to yourself. We should have Sisto do it. He looks desperate
enough."
        Mazara
said, "You think priests look desperate?" He drank espresso, thinking
he needed some extra energy for what he was about to do.
        "The
ones who know they do not have the calling," Angela said.
        Mazara
said, "How do you know about priests?" He lighted a cigarette.
        "I
have a cousin who was ordained and lives there at the monastery," Angela
said. "He tells me what they talk about." She picked up her cup,
sipped cappuccino.
        "I
will use the hood," Mazara said. "Do you feel better now?" He
brought the cigarette to his mouth, inhaled and blew out the smoke. "Did
your cousin tell you how to get into the monastery?"
        "I
used to visit him," Angela said. "He is a Passionist."
        "What
is that?"
        "A
Catholic religious order founded by St Paul of the Cross. Its real name is the
Congregation of Discalced Clerks of the Most Holy Cross and Passion of Our Lord
Jesus Christ."
        Mazara
gave her a broad smile. "Did you make this up?"
        "No,"
Angela said. "It happens to be true. Only they are not a full order, but a
congregation. Founded to teach people how to pray. I think you could use some
help in that area."
        "What
is there to teach? You want to pray, you pray."
        "What
do you know about it?"
        "Praying?
Not very much any more," Mazara said.
        Angela
lit a cigarette.
        "You
said women are allowed in the monastery?"
        "If
you are related," Angela said.
        "Or
if you are a prostitute," Mazara said.
        "Why
are you so negative about priests?" She pulled her sunglasses down and
looked at him.
        "You
would understand if one tried to molest you."
        Angela
said, "This really happened?"
        "The
priest from our village invited me to his office in the rectory," Mazara
said. "It was a great honor. He told me to sit on his lap and I felt
something hard poking into me. He said, 'Do you know what that is?'"
        Angela
said, "How old were you?"
        "Eleven,"
Mazara said. "Old enough to know better."
        "What
did you say?"
        He
gave her a questioning look. "What do you think?"
        Angela
said, "What did the priest say?"
        "It
was the staff of God, and he wanted me to hold it."
        "What
did you do?"
        "I
ran," Mazara said.
        "I'm
sure it was shocking," Angela said, "but I have to ask you - can you
do this? Because if you are not sure, I will dress like a nun and pick up the
money."
        He
said, "I like to see that. You would be a sexy nun."
        She
said, "Let's go over it again."
        "You
sound like your father. You have to be in