The Trinity Game

con artists pumping salt water through hollowed-out statues of the Blessed Virgin. Ten years of oil drum rust-stains that look
kinda-sorta-almost
like Jesus if you squint your eyes just so and hold your head on an angle and harbor an intense desire to see Jesus in a rust-stain.
    Ten years.
    Seven hundred and twenty-one cases.
    Not one miracle.
    It wasn’t as if Daniel wasn’t hoping for a miracle. But even setting aside the principles involved—even if he were willing to start down the slippery slope of
ends justifying means
—the girl in Nigeria would never stand up to scrutiny; she’d be exposed as a fraud. And putting the Vatican’s stamp of approval on a fake could lead to the kind of PR the Church didn’t need in the war for
hearts and minds
. “You’re not suggesting I change my verdict on this case, are you, Father Nick?”
    “No. There are those who wish you would, but I’m not one of them, and I already made that fact clear to all interested parties.But you need to face reality—the cost of that choice is I now have to loan you to Conrad for a while. I’ll continue to lobby His Eminence, and hopefully your exile will be brief.” He sipped some brandy and forced a smile. “Ah well, if God wants a miracle in Nigeria, He’ll just have to make one Himself.”
    “Come on, Nick, there’s gotta be something you can do. Conrad’s a first-class prick, I’ll go crazy working for him.”
    “You haven’t walked in his shoes,” said Father Nick. “The horrors he has to deal with…but you’re right, he is a prick.” Nick looked into his snifter for a long while, then took a slow sip. “Actually, there is a case I could claw you back into the ODA on, citing special circumstances, but—”
    “Special circumstances?”
    “That’s the problem. The very reason I don’t think I should assign the case to you.”
    “I’ll do it. Anything.”
    “I think it could be bad for you, kiddo. I’ve seen you get personally involved in cases before—”
    “One case.” Daniel fought to keep the anger out of his voice. He’d done his penance for Honduras, but Vatican memories are long. Here they forgive, but they never forget. “
Four years ago.
Come on, Nick, I’m fine. I can handle it.”
    “I dunno.” Nick held eye contact. “How’s your faith holding?”
    “I’m working on it, as usual.” Nick didn’t respond, so Daniel quoted the older priest’s familiar phrase back at him, “ ‘Faith is a choice, not a state of being.’” He smiled. “I keep making the choice. That’s what matters, right?”
    “You’re not working on it, you’re running around looking for proof. You don’t think I know? Believe me, I know. You made a deal with God a long time ago: you’d pretend to believe, and He’dshow His face, and then you’d
really
believe. And you know
how
I know? Because that was me as a young man. But time’s ticking, you’re not getting any younger.” Nick finally smiled for real. “Look, you’re my doubting Thomas and I love you for it. I hope someday when I’m old and senile enough, you’ll be sitting here in the big chair. But you do have to work on your faith. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”
    Daniel shook his head. “What do you want me to say? I keep making the choice, even when I have to make it several times a day. I’m fine, really. I want this case, whatever it is. And the fact that we’re still discussing it tells me you could really use me on it.”
    Father Nick conceded the point with a nod. After a long silence he said, “OK. We’ve got a…well, an anomaly, let’s call it. And it has to do with your uncle.”

D aniel played it twice over in his mind until he was sure he’d heard it correctly. A defensive snort escaped before he could rein it in. He followed with, “My uncle is a
con man
.”
    Father Nick held up his hands. “I know. I know, and that makes you perfect for it. You’re the best debunker in the business,
and
you know his particular tricks.” He picked up a television remote from the desktop. “Have you seen his show recently?”
    “It’s been a while,” Daniel said.
    Nick aimed the remote at a wide, flat-panel television perched on the antique credenza, and the screen came on blue. He pressed another button, and the blue screen was replaced by video of the
Tim Trinity Prosperity-Power Miracle Hour
. “This was taped last week,” he said.
    On the screen, Reverend Tim Trinity stalked the stage like a large predatory cat,