Chapter 30 Chapter XXVIII Raphael Hotel

"This is the San Ambro Residence." "Good afternoon, I'm looking for Bishop Robaya." A young female reporter said in her broken Italian. The voice on the other end of the phone was a little flustered. "Who are you?" Although there was nothing, and the tone of the speaker hardly changed, the female reporter still caught clues. Andrea Otiro has been with The Globe and Mail for four years.For four years she had been a newsroom understudy, interviewing third-rate people and writing the last-page articles.She joined The Globe and Mail at 24 and got the job because of a personal connection.She started to work on the cultural page, but the editor-in-chief of this page never took her seriously, and then she went to the social page, and the editor-in-chief never believed her.Now that she has come to the international edition, the editor-in-chief is even more dismissive of her, but Andrea is very serious herself.Not just for the fame, or those journalism classes she'd taken.This also includes common sense, inspiration, and the reporter's sensitivity to news.If Andrea had even 10 percent of these qualities (which she feels she has already developed a lot of before), she would be a reporter who won the Pulitzer Prize for Journalism.She is confident in herself.Standing 5.8 feet tall, with an angelic build, blond hair and blue eyes, she was a strong-willed and intelligent woman.Andrea's colleague, a reporter assigned to cover the pope's death, fell down the stairs of her apartment and broke her leg before getting ready to take a taxi to the airport.The editor-in-chief considered letting Andrea go. After she got the news, she didn't hesitate at all, and with only one suitcase, she caught the plane to Rome at the last second.

Fortunately, the hotel she was staying in was in Piazza Navona, where there are small shops selling all kinds of necessities.Andrea bought a few coats and underwear there, as well as a mobile phone, all of which would naturally be paid by the newspaper.The last thing she bought was the one she called St. Ambro just now. She wanted to interview Cardinal Robaya, one of the pope's candidates. "My name is Andrea Otiro and I am from Globe and Mail. The bishop promised that today, which is Thursday, I can interview him. But unfortunately his mobile phone is not answered. Can you help me , help me connect to his room?"

"Miss Otiro, I'm sorry I can't connect you to the bishop's room, because the bishop hasn't arrived yet." "Then when will he arrive?" "He didn't come." "He didn't come, or didn't he come?" "He didn't come because he didn't come." "Does he live somewhere else?" "No, I mean, I guess maybe." "Who are you?" "I have to hang up." There was a hang up sound on the other end of the phone.The voice told Andrea two things: the call was over, and the person on the other end was extremely nervous, so she was lying.Andrea was almost sure of that.Because she is very good at lying, no one can fool her level.

There was no delay, and within 10 minutes Andrea found the phone number of the bishop's office in Buenos Aires.It's almost 10 am there now, a very deliberate time for a phone call.Thinking of the mobile phone fee that the newspaper company had to pay for her, Andrea was secretly happy.They must have paid more than budgeted, at least let them break the bank. The phone rang for a minute and then died.It's strange that no one answered.Andrea hit it again. Still nobody. Andrea tried to dial the main office number, which was answered immediately, and a lady answered. "Good morning, Archbishop's Office."

"Please pick up Father Robaya." "Oh, miss, he's gone." "Where did you go?" "Went to vote in Rome, madam." "Do you know where he lives?" "I don't know, miss. I'll pass you on to Father Sanrafin, his secretary." "thanks." The Beatles came on the phone, which was the right kind of music.Andrea decides she's going to tell a little lie to keep things interesting.She knew that the bishop had relatives living in Spain.She wants to try it out. "Hello?" "Hi, I want to speak to His Excellency the Bishop. I am his niece Ostron, the one in Spain."

"Ostron? I'm glad to hear your voice. I'm Father Sanlafen, the bishop's secretary. The bishop never told me about you. Are you Augusta's daughter or Romido's daughter?" what?" Andrea knew it was a trap.She crossed her fingers hoping she couldn't make a mistake.There is a 50% chance of being right anyway.Andrea is an expert at navigating wrong moves: She's good at saying things that embarrass others. "Romedo's daughter." "Oh, of course, look how stupid I am. Now that I think about it, Augusta has no children. But sorry, the Bishop is not here at the moment."

"Then when can I talk to him?" silence.The priest's voice suddenly became alert.Andrea could almost see his expression on the other end of the phone, he must be gripping the cord tightly and wrapping it around his index finger. "What do you want to tell him?" "Oh, that's right. I lived in Rome for many years, and he promised me to come and see me the next time he comes." The voice on the other end became even more suspicious. The priest spoke very slowly, as if he was afraid of saying something wrong. "My lord bishop has gone to Cordoba to deal with some news releases from the diocese there. He will not be going to the election."

"But the people in the main office just told me that he has come to Rome." "Oh, the operator is a new girl, she is not very familiar with the work." San Lafen replied, obviously he made it up now, "Please forgive me." "I'm sorry. Then can you tell my uncle that I called?" "Of course. Please leave your phone number, Ostron? I will leave it in the bishop's notepad, and we may get in touch with you." "He has my number. Sorry my husband called, bye!" Andrea hung up the phone before the secretary could speak again.Now she was sure there was something wrong here.But she had to double check.Fortunately, the hotel had internet, and it took her six minutes to find the phone numbers of three airlines in Argentina, and she chose one to call, hoping for a hit.

"Airlines Argentinas." Andrea tried to make her Spanish accent a little Argentinian, not too bad, much better than her Italian. "Hello. I am calling from the bishop's office. Who are you?" "My name is Volona." "Wolona, ​​this is Ostron, I want to confirm Bishop Robaya's return flight." "What day is it?" "He will be back on the 19th of this month." "His full name?" "Emilo Robaya." "Wait a minute and I'll check." Andrea nervously bit the ballpoint pen in her hand, looked at her hair in the mirror, then fell down on the bed, wiggling her toes, trying to calm herself down.

"Hello? My colleague told me that you only bought a one-way ticket, and the return journey is undecided. The bishop has already departed. If you buy a return ticket, you can get a 10% discount. There is a special price in April. Do you have his frequent flyer number on hand? ?” "Wait a minute, I'll check." Andrea hung up the phone with a smile on her face.The high tension immediately turned to the joy of victory.The bishop has already boarded the plane to Rome.But he didn't show up, maybe he decided to live somewhere else.But if that's the case, why would his secretary lie?

"Either I'm crazy or there's something going on here. A great story," Andrea said to herself in the mirror. In a few days, they will elect a new pope to sit on St. Peter's chair, and the candidate for the representative of the poor, who advocates support for the third world and does not reject liberation theology, has disappeared.