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Je
The man named Pendergast did not directly acknowledge this pleasantry.
“Well.” He cleared his throat. “Now, just what can I do for you, Mr. Pendergast?”
In reply, Pendergast plucked a small leather wallet from his suit jacket, opened it, and placed it on the desk.
Je
“No.” The voice was faint, yet melodious, with mellow accents of New Orleans gentry. “It is a personal matter.” And yet the FBI shield lay there on the desk, like some charm or totem.
“I see.” Je
“I’m here about an exhumation.”
“I see,” Je
“A new exhumation order.”
Je
“My wife. Helen Esterhazy Pendergast.”
The polishing stopped for a moment. Then it resumed at a slower pace. “And you say this is not a question of a court order? A police request to determine cause of death?”
Pendergast shook his head. “As I said, it’s personal.”
Je
When Pendergast said nothing, Je
“If the family of the deceased wishes to move the remains to another burial spot,” Pendergast finished.
“Well, ah, yes, that is it precisely,” Je
“It is.”
“Well then, I think we can get the application process started.” He turned to a filing cabinet that stood beside the bookcase, opened a drawer, pulled out a form, and placed it on his desk blotter. He examined it for a moment. “You realize there are certain, ah, prerequisites. For example, we would need a copy of the death certificate of… of your late wife.”
Reaching into his jacket again, Pendergast produced a folded piece of paper, unfolded it, and placed it on the desk beside his shield.
Leaning forward, Je
He found the silvery eyes staring into his. “You also have jurisdiction — technically speaking.”
“Yes, but as a matter of protocol, Saint-Savin is handled only through the west parish branch.”
“I picked you, Mr. Je
“I’m flattered, I’m sure.” Je
Once again, the pale, slender hand disappeared into the suit jacket. Once again, it reappeared, this time with a check, dated and signed, made out in the correct amount.
“Well, well,” Je
Another form was produced and laid on the desk.
“And the form of consent from the cemetery to which the body is being transferred.”
Still another form was placed, slowly and deliberately, on the polished wood.
Je
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Je
Je
“If you take a closer look at the two forms of consent, I think all will become clear.”
Je
“That is correct. So as you can see, there will be no need for transportation. Cemetery management will be in charge of transferring the body.”
“Is there something wrong with the current burial spot of the deceased?”
“The current spot is fine. I chose it myself.”
“Is it a question of new construction? Must the body be moved because of changes being done at the cemetery?”
“I selected Saint-Savin Cemetery specifically because nothing will ever change there — and no new families are being accepted for burial.”
Je
“Because, Mr. Je
Je
“A medical examiner will be standing by, fully licensed and accredited by the State of Louisiana, during the exhumation. An examination of the remains will be performed in a mobile forensic lab, parked on cemetery grounds. Then the body will be reburied — in a grave directly adjoining the one in which it had previously lain, within the Pendergast family plot. It is all spelled out in the application.”
“Examination?” Je
“No. It’s strictly a private matter.”
“This is irregular, Mr. Pendergast — most irregular. I can’t say I’ve ever had such a request before. I’m sorry, but this is not something I can approve. You’ll have to go through the courts.”
Pendergast regarded him for a moment. “Is that your final word on the subject?”
“The guidelines on exhumations are quite clear. I can do nothing.” Je
“I see.” Pendergast picked up the shield and replaced it in his suit jacket. He left the paperwork where it was. “Would you mind coming with me for a moment?”
“But where—?”
“It will only take a minute.”
Reluctantly, Je
“I wish to show you,” Pendergast said, “why I chose you in particular for this request.”
They walked through the outer office, down the main corridor of the public building, and out the main entrance. Pendergast stopped on the wide front steps.
Je
“Pleasant day indeed,” came the reply.
“That’s what I love about this part of Louisiana. The sun just seems to shine more brightly than anywhere else.”
“Yes. It lends a curious gilding effect to everything it touches. Take that plaque, for instance.” And Pendergast gestured toward an old brass plaque that had been set into the brick façade of the building.
Je