“Does she know anything about them?”

He shrugged. He was sure she didn’t. He didn’t know how many there were, what companies they were drawn on, how long since they’d last been examined, or who had access to them. The only thing he knew was the new prior wanted to sell them in order to make repairs on the building. Yes, they’d been in a safe.

“Her heart’s broken because of the suspicion.” He saw my derisive look and said defensively, “Just because you only see her when she’s upset or angry you can’t imagine she has real feelings. She’s seventy-five, you know, and that job meant a lot to her. She wants her name cleared so she can go back.”

“Surely the FBI is investigating, and the SEC.”

“Yes, but they’d be just as happy to hang it on her if it made things easier for them. After all, who wants to take a priest to court? And they know she’s old, she’d get off with a suspended sentence.”

I blinked a few times. “Albert. No. You’re out of touch. If she were some poor West Side black, they might railroad her. But not Rosa. She’d scare ‘em too much for one thing. And the FBI-they’ll want to get to the bottom of this. They’re never going to believe an old woman masterminded a counterfeiting scheme.” Unless, of course, she had. I wished I could believe it, but Rosa was malicious, not dishonest.

“But that church is the only thing she really loves,” he blurted, turning crimson. “They might believe she got carried away. People do.”

We talked about it some more, but it ended as I suppose I’d known it had to, with me pulling out two copies of my standard contract for Albert to sign. I gave him a family rate on the fee-sixteen dollars an hour instead of twenty.

He told me the new prior would be expecting my call. Boniface Carroll his name was. Albert wrote that on a piece of paper along with a rough map of how to find the priory. I frowned as I stuck it in my bag. They were taking an awful lot for granted. Then I laughed sourly at myself. Once I’d agreed to make the trek to Melrose Park they could take a lot for granted.