Published by BooksForABuck.com at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 by Michael Paulson
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and locations are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people is coincidental.
Chambers Elliot, a tall man with gray hair and dark smears beneath his blue eyes from habitual lack of sleep, looked up from the brief on his limed-oak desk to focus upon the black-clad figure entering his private, well-appointed office.
"Good morning, Father Zamoyski," Elliot said in his usual, reassuring manner. His deeply-timbered voice resonated from the rosewood walls. He arose from his swivel chair and with a finger indicated one of the brown Harvard chairs fronting his desk. "Please sit down."
The stooped, white-haired Priest took a ragged breath. Then he moved unsteadily across the brown carpeting toward the lawyer's desk, not unlike a sailor on the deck of a ship in heavy seas.
Below the Priest's thinning hairline was a pale, deeply-lined, wet face set off by hollow eyes with constricted pupils, a generous nose, and a heavy jaw. Lodged in one ear was an old-fashioned hearing aid. The wire from the ancient device dangled across the priest's tunic into an inside pocket. His short legs joined large feet encased by scuffed, black shoes. Despite the unusually warm weather for June his hands were sheathed in thin, black leather gloves.