Cold Vengeance - Lincoln Child [56]
“If the family of the deceased wishes to move the remains to another burial spot,” Pendergast finished.
“Well, ah, yes, that is it precisely,” Jennings said. The interjection had caught him off guard, and he struggled for a moment to find his rhythm again. “Is that the case?”
“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, Jennings examined it. “Ah. Very good. But what is this? I see the originating cemetery is Saint-Savin. That’s clear on the other side of the parish. I’m afraid you’ll have to take this request over to the west parish office.”
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. Jennings, for a very particular reason. Only you can do this for me—no one else.”
“I’m flattered, I’m sure.” Jennings felt a flush of pleasure at the declaration of confidence. “I suppose we could make an exception. Moving on, then, to the matter of the application fee…”
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,” Jennings said, looking at it. “And then there is the form of consent, naturally, from the management of the cemetery where the remains are currently interred.”
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.
Jennings stared at the row of paper in front of him. “Well, aren’t we organized today!” He attempted a smile but was discouraged by the grim look on the man’s face. “I, ah, believe that is everything we need. Oh—except the form from the transport company in charge of moving the remains from the old burial site to the new.”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Jennings.”
Jennings blinked in surprise at the apparition on the far side of his desk. “I don’t quite understand.”
“If you take a closer look at the two forms of consent, I think all will become clear.”
Jennings put his glasses back on his nose and peered at the two documents for a moment. Then he looked up quickly. “But these cemeteries are one and the same!”
“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.”
Jennings leaned forward slightly. “Then may I ask why are you moving the body?”
“Because, Mr. Jennings, moving the body is the only way I can get temporary access to it.”
Jennings licked his lips. “Access?”
“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?” Jennings said. “Is this related