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the strain from her face and filled her with light.  You re right, she said,  but we re looking for St. Louis,
too. Do you have them both here?
 Well, of course we do. The St. Michael and St. Louis altar. Right there by the Lady Chapel.
 What did you say? Mel whispered.  What altar?
 It s called the St. Michael and St. Louis altar. Right beautiful it is, too. Would you like to see it?
 Absolutely, Mel said. To Stryker, she added,  That has to be it. Everything fits. But what s the next
clue?
 Clue? Paddy asked as he led them further into the cathedral.
 It s kind of a game, Stryker said as they followed. They d turned to the left, moving up some stairs next
to the main altar. They passed the organ, though it seemed more that they passed through it, with the
organ on their right and the pipes on their left and the intricately carved wood surrounding them.
They moved down a passageway past a series of doors until Paddy signaled for them to stop. They were
just to the left of the Lady Chapel, essentially behind the high altar.  There it is, Paddy said, indicating
the white Carrara marble altar. It had a Gothic feel to it, with three towering, intricately carved spires
over three niches. The middle spire rose the highest, marking the altar cross. The niches to the left and
right contained statues of St. Louis and St. Michael, respectively. Behind the altar was a stained-glass
window, through which a stream of light now passed, a warm purple with bits of dust dancing in the
colors. A small altar rail surrounded the area, complete with red velvet kneelers, effectively keeping them
from getting close enough to inspect the altar in more detail.
 A game, eh? Paddy said, his voice low in deference to the altar and the nearby Lady Chapel.  You tell
me what you re looking for, and maybe I can help you. Otherwise, can t see that I m doing much good
here.
 We re not  Stryker began, but Mel cut him off.
 A scavenger hunt, she said, giving him an apologetic little shrug.  I know it sounds silly, but this altar is
a clue. We re just not sure what the clue is.
 Ah, I see. A bit of the wild-goose chase, then.
 Something like that.
 So a clue led you to the altar, and now the altar will lead you to a prize?
 Essentially.
 Well, I don t think there could be a message actually waiting for you here. Off limits, don t you know.
Stryker nodded.  It must be something about the altar. Something that points the way to something else.
 The direction the saints are facing, maybe? Mel suggested, though without much enthusiasm.
 Oh, no, my dear. That s not it. The clue is obvious, though what you ll find when you ll follow it is a
mystery to me. You ll come back and tell an old man?
 If you can tell me what the clue is, I promise I ll tell you where it leads.
 Tiffany s, of course. What would have a better prize?
 Tiffany s? Mel asked, her face reflecting Stryker s confusion.  You mean Tiffany & Co. down the
street? Diamonds and crystal and bridal registries Tiffany s?
 That ll be the one. You ll be finding your next clue there. Mark my words.
 Okay, I ll bite, Stryker said.  What makes you so certain?
 The altar, of course. The altar was built by Tiffany& Co.
 Mr. O Shea, you re my patron saint. Mel took the man by the shoulders and kissed him on each
cheek.  Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
 Well, now&  His already ruddy cheeks colored even more, and he shuffled a bit.  Unless you want
more of a tour, I d best be getting back to my post.
 We re fine, Stryker said.  Thanks again. As Paddy headed toward the front of the cathedral, Stryker
turned to Mel.  Ready to go shopping?
 On Fifth Avenue? I can t wait. Her eyes danced, and color lit her face as well. They d figured out
another clue, and they were on their way. He hoped her happiness lasted. The clues were getting harder
and harder, and the stakes were still just as high.
She started to walk past him back toward the aisle, but he reached out a hand to stop her.  Wait. There
s something I want to do.
He moved toward the shrine next to the Lady Chapel, then knelt and took a candle, dropping an offering
into the little box. He lit the candle and bowed his head. He hadn t prayed in years, but it felt right to be
there now asking for help from some power higher than himself, and the words came easily to his lips.
When he stood up, Mel was behind him, her face a wash of compassion.  Are you okay?
 I was asking Mary to pray for you. To pray for your protection.
 Thanks, but wasn t that a waste of a prayer?
He frowned.  What do you mean?
 It s just that your prayer s already been answered, she said, taking his hand and flashing a smile that cut
right through him.  I have you.
Chapter 58
S t. Patrick s may be heaven on Fifth Avenue to some. To me, heaven was Fifth Avenue itself. More
specifically, the shops that line Fifth Avenue.
Ironic, then, that as we moved down the avenue with all deliberate speed passing all the stores I lust
after on a regular basis I couldn t have cared less.
All of them just passing me by. And me with a man carrying significant cash on his person. Really, I didn t
care at all. (Well, had we passed Manolo, I might have cared a little, but fortunately it s not on the route,
and I didn t have to suffer the agony of not going in.)
I ll confess to feeling a little OHMYGOD twinge as we rushed through the doors of Tiffany s. Most girls
go there with their husbands or fiancés (or lovers or rich daddies). I was there to save my own life.
That sobered me up tout de suite.
The clerk who approached us wore her hair piled up, making her resemble Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast
at Tiffany s, a little tidbit that I m sure wasn t lost on her.  May I help you?
Now that the question was out there, I realized I had no clue what to say. We d made the trek up Fifth in
silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I was so giddy about knowing where to go for the next clue that I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]