The male receptionist in the lobby of the Opus Dei headquarters on Lexington Avenue in NewYork City was surprised to hear Bishop Aringarosa's voice on the line. "Good evening, sir.""Have I had any messages?" the bishop demanded, sounding unusually anxious.
"Yes, sir. I'm very glad you called in. I couldn't reach you in your apartment. You had an urgentphone message about half an hour ago.""Yes?" He sounded relieved by the news. "Did the caller leave a name?""No, sir, just a number." The operator relayed the number.
"Prefix thirty-three? That's France, am I right?""Yes, sir. Paris. The caller said it was critical you contact him immediately.""Thank you. I have been waiting for that call." Aringarosa quickly severed the connection.
As the receptionist hung up the receiver, he wondered why Aringarosa's phone connection soundedso crackly. The bishop's daily schedule showed him in New York this weekend, and yet hesounded a world away. The receptionist shrugged it off. Bishop Aringarosa had been acting verystrangely the last few months.
My cellular phone must not have been receiving, Aringarosa thought as the Fiat approached theexit for Rome's Ciampino Charter Airport. The Teacher was trying to reach me. DespiteAringarosa's concern at having missed the call, he felt encouraged that the Teacher felt confidentenough to call Opus Dei headquarters directly.
Things must have gone well in Paris tonight.
As Aringarosa began dialing the number, he felt excited to know he would soon be in Paris. I'll beon the ground before dawn. Aringarosa had a chartered turbo prop awaiting him here for the shortflight to France. Commercial carriers were not an option at this hour, especially considering thecontents of his briefcase.
The line began to ring.
A female voice answered. "Direction Centrale Police Judidaire."Aringarosa felt himself hesitate. This was unexpected. "Ah, yes... I was asked to call this number?""Qui êtes-vous?" the woman said. "Your name?"Aringarosa was uncertain if he should reveal it. The French Judicial Police?
"Your name, monsieur?" the woman pressed.
"Bishop Manuel Aringarosa.""Un moment." There was a click on the line.
After a long wait, another man came on, his tone gruff and concerned. "Bishop, I am glad I finallyreached you. You and I have much to discuss."
纽约市莱克星顿大街的天主事工会总部里，男接待员意外地接到了阿林加洛沙主教的电话，于是他问候道："晚上好，先生。"
"有我的口信吗？"主教急切地问道。
"是的，先生。很高兴您打了过来。我往您的房间里打电话，可是没人接。半小时之前有您的一个紧急电话留言。""是吗？"阿林加洛沙的声音听上去有点欣慰。"打电话的人留下名字了吗？"
"没有，先生。只留下了一个电话号码。"接待员把那个号码复述了一遍。
"区号是337 那是法国，对吗？"
"是的，先生。是巴黎。打电话的人说情况紧急，请您立刻跟他联络。"
"谢谢你。我一直在等这个电话。"说完，阿林加洛沙迅速地挂上了电话。
接待员边挂电话边琢磨："怎么阿林加洛沙主教的电话里有"噼哩啪啦"的干扰声？日程安排显示他这个周末在纽约，可是他的声音听起来却像是从世界的另一端传来的。"他耸了耸肩。"近几个月来，阿林加洛沙主教的举动一直都很古怪！"
我的手机肯定一直没信号，阿林加洛沙坐在菲亚特轿车中琢磨着，此时他们正直奔罗马的洽米皮诺机场。"导师"一直在试图跟我联系。虽然阿林加洛沙为错过了电话而担忧，但依然倍受鼓舞，因为"导师"直接把电话打到教会总部去了，说明他充满了信心。
今晚巴黎的事一定进展顺利。
阿林加洛沙激动地拨打起号码，他知道自己不久就可以到巴黎了。天亮之前我就能飞到那里。阿林加洛沙为这次法国之行包用的飞机已经在机场等候了。这个时候不宜坐客机，特别是考虑到他的公文包里装的东西，就更不能去坐客机了。
电话接通了。
一个女人的声音问道："这里是中央警署。请问您找谁？"
阿林加洛沙不禁犹豫了一下。这太意外了。"啊。请问是谁用这个号码给我打了电话？"
那个女的问道："请问您的名字？"
阿林加洛沙一时不知道是否应该说出自己的真名。那里是法国警署？
"您的名字，先生？"那个女人又问道。
"曼努埃尔。阿林加洛沙主教。"
"请等一下。"电话里传来"嗒"的一声。
过了好一会儿，电话里传来一个男人粗哑而不安的声音。"主教，很高兴终于找到你了。我们有很多事要商量。"