A series of photos showed him emerging from a seedy bar in La Línea, a crime-infested, prostitute-ridden, gang-controlled ghetto on the outskirts of the city. The two boys either side of him looked to be no more than twelve. Another photo showed Jennings with the boys, booking into an even seedier ‘motel’, the rooms of which were made out of metal scrounged from shipping containers. Felici closed the file and pondered. So far, the Vatican Bank funding that financed Jennings’ archaeological expeditions to Central America had ensured Jennings’ loyalty, but it might not be enough. He also knew that an appeal to the Jesuit’s faith would be problematic. Felici had known of Jennings’ sexual proclivities for a long time, but this was the first concrete evidence he’d obtained. The papal nuncio had done well.The Cardinal’s private secretary knocked on the double doors of the office.‘Monsignor Jennings is here, Eminence.’‘Show him in.’ Felici glanced at his rolled gold Rolex.
