The Third Hour

by Richard Devin

  Smaller pieces of glass, as though they had been perfectly aimed, headed directly toward Tonita. She flinched at the explosion, covering her head with her arms, throwing herself into Dominic’s lap.

  Dominic recoiled and instinctively fell over Tonita, shielding her further. His head, shoulders, and arms became dotted with small shards of imbedded glass.

  Tonita screamed, as other small slivers of glass penetrated her skin at her unprotected back.

  Within seconds, the storm of glass subsided and an unnerving silence from the peaceful Vatican grounds floated in through the now glass-less window.

  Dominic pulled himself upright, wincing as his skin and muscles twisted the glass imbedded into his body. Droplets of blood began to ooze out where the glass shards had lodged.

  Tonita slowly lifted her head. “Is it over?”

  “I think so.” Dominic put his hand on her back. She winced. “Sorry. Don’t move.” He looked at her shard embedded back. “You’ve got glass all over you.”

  “What the hell happened?” Tonita asked, slowly rising to her feet. “Oh God, Dominic, you’re bleeding.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He stood and looked to the where the window once was. “A bird or something must have hit the window.”

  “Some bird.” Tonita started toward the window. “Dominic!” She nodded toward the window.

  On the floor in front of them, Cardinal Celent had fallen. His back was badly torn by the glass. Large dagger like pieces of the window protruded from his back. His clothes were torn and, in places, shredded by the blast. He stirred, struggling to move.

  “Cardinal, don’t move. We’ll get help.” Dominic gestured to Tonita to get the phone. “Stay still.”

  Cardinal Celent raised his head slightly off of the floor. “It is all right, my son. I will not be fine.” He coughed, spitting out blood. “My death has come.”

  “We’re getting help.” Dominic looked back at Tonita on the telephone. “Tonita’s calling now. Someone will be here.”

  “I’m afraid they’ll be too late for me.” The Cardinal struggled to keep his eyes open.

  Tonita set the telephone handset down onto the cradle. “An ambulance is on the way.” She joined Dominic at Cardinal Celent’s side, broken glass crunching under her footsteps. She kicked away some of the glass with the side of her foot, clearing a path.

  “There is more that you must know.” Cardinal Celent’s voice grew considerably weaker. “I am sorry that you will have to learn without me. I had hoped that we would have more time. But time is not ours to keep or to manipulate. That I have learned.” Cardinal Celent reached out with one hand and grabbed hold of the leg of the nearby table. He pulled on it. “Help me to stand.”

  “You shouldn’t move,” Tonita began.

  Cardinal Celent offered, “I must.” He held his hand out to Dominic, “Help me.”

  Dominic glanced quickly at Tonita, then reached forward, taking hold of the Cardinal’s hand, and nearly slipping on the glass covered floor, he pulled the Cardinal to his feet.

  The glass cut deep into the Cardinal’s back, as he took a step and then another toward the sofa. Steadying himself on one the arm of the sofa, he leaned forward and picked up the book on Roswell that he had thrown when the window behind him had shattered. The book had landed on the sofa, narrowly missing Tonita’s head. “Here take this. Keep it safely with you. And you will understand.”

  Dominic took the book from the Cardinal.

  “There is more to be said by the shortest chapter in the Bible, than in all the words in the whole book.” Cardinal Celent pointed to the book.

  Dominic noticed how shaky the Cardinal’s hand had become. “You need to rest...” Dominic’s words were cut short as a wheezing breath escaped from the Cardinal’s mouth.

  “You have been chosen. You wear the crown,” Cardinal Celent said. And then collapsed.

  Dominic turned to Tonita. As he did so, her hand went to her mouth covering a gasp. “Dominic.”

  Dominic looked into the gilded mirror that hung neatly on a small space on the far wall. His reflection revealed that bits and pieces of glass had become embedded in his skull, circling from his forehead and around to the back. With the light of the room glinting off of the shards of glass and the droplets of blood, that were now running down his face, the reflection was clear.

  Dominic’s head was covered by a crown of thorns.

  THIRTY SEVEN

  INSPECTOR CARROLA PUSHED by the old nurse, and despite her objections, pulled back on the cream colored curtain, sliding it along the metal rail on chrome rings. It made a kind of bell sound as the rings clinked together along the rail.

  Dominic turned his head as did the young doctor tending to him.

  “Aspeta,” the young doctor, not more than twenty-five said, shooting a look of anger at the Inspector. “Aspeta, nessun ospiti.”

  “I am not a tourist and I do not wait.” Inspector Carrola flashed a badge at the young doctor. “Tourist? That is correct?” He looked to Dominic

  “Visitor. Tourist is okay,” Dominic answered the inspector.

  “You would say tourist?”

  “No, visitor.”

  Inspector Carrola looked at the young doctor. “I am no a visitor.”

  The young doctor shook his head at the Inspector, then turned his attention back to the embedded glass shards in Dominic’s head.

  “He’s only an intern and he thinks he’s a doctor.” “I didn’t think that I’d see you.” Dominic winced as a piece of glass was pulled out of the flesh surrounding his skull.

  “That is the difference. I knew that I would see you again.”

  “Unfortunate.”

  “For those who surround you, yes,” Inspector Carrola said, watching as the doctor pulled several pieces of glass from Dominic’s flesh. “You have a way, signore, of...how do you say...making the tide?”

  “Making waves.”

  “Ah, yes. Making waves.” Inspector Carrola moved around the bed, coming up behind the doctor. “I don’t understand this saying really. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “It means churning things up. Making a mess of a situation.

  “And that you do. Am I not right, Dominic?”

  “Lately.”

  “Finito,” the doctor said, dropping the surgical tweezers onto a stainless steel tray. He grabbed a roll of white sterile gauze from the stand and began to wrap it around Dominic’s head.

  “Tell me. What happened tonight?” The inspector watched as the doctor manipulated the gauze around Dominic’s head.

  “The window broke.”

  “How did this happen? The window broking?”

  “Breaking, not broking.”

  “How did this happen then?”

  “Something broke the window.”

  “A bird maybe?” Inspector Carrola picked up some of the instruments on the stand inspecting them.

  “Per favore, Ispettore.” The doctor glanced at the inspector and the surgical tool in his hand.

  Inspector Carrola dropped the tool.

  “Maybe? I didn’t see a bird.” Dominic tried to keep his head still, but failed.

  “Non si muova,” the doctor ordered.

  “Sorry, spiacente,” Dominic apologized and tried to remain still.

  “Someone put a rock into the window?”

  “Maybe? I told you I didn’t see anything.”

  “Perhaps, that is because there was no rock, Signore. And also, there was no bird.”

  “I can’t help you then. We were just talking...”

  “Talking about what then? I can ask you?”

  Dominic barely missed a beat. “Books and travel.”

  Inspector Carrola picked up a set of tweezers. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “No, Inspector. I’m not planning on it.”

  “And your girlfriend? Is she going somewhere?”

  “She is not my girlfriend.”

  “Did I use the wrong word?”

&nbs
p; “Per favore, Ispettore!” The doctor’s tone was sharp.

  The inspector put down the tweezers. “I’m sorry. But sometimes my English is no so good.”

  “The word is correct, Inspector. It’s the implication that’s wrong.”

  “Ah, I forgot. You are a priest. No girlfriend then.”

  “If you don’t mind Inspector?” Dominic jumped down from the surgery table, waving off the doctor. “I would like to see Tonita and the Cardinal.”

  “Yes, yes. I am sorry to be keeping you.”

  “If there is nothing more then?” Dominic headed toward the door, not waiting for an answer.

  “No. That is it. You go to see your girlfriend.” Inspector Carrola waved a hand animatedly in front of his face, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I use the words wrong again. Go see your friend.”

  “Scusilo. Dove posso trovare Tonita e Cardinale?” Dominic said to a passing nurse.

  “I can help you there,” Inspector Carrola said, waving the nurse off. “Tonita is in the room just across the hall. And the Cardinal Celent...you will find him in the morgue.”

  THIRTY EIGHT

  THE NOVICE PUSHED ON the door to Cardinal Celent’s flat, expecting it to be locked. It was not. The door swung open a few inches, then stopped.

  He had been waiting on the street, staring up at the window to the Cardinal’s flat, with the tourists, Vatican employees and priests, nuns and passersby, while the police and Vatican officials inspected the flat, looking for something they could never find. He had covered himself in a tunic, taken from the closet of an office on the ground floor of the same building that housed the Cardinal’s flat, he blended in perfectly.

  He pushed on the door again and it completed its arch, opening widely. The Novice stepped inside. The glass from the shattered window had been swept from the floor, and the opening of the window was now covered with a sheet of clear plastic. It bellowed inward like the sail on ship. But this sail could not move a ship across the seas. It would barely hold back the cold of the night air.

  Small shards of glass, missed by the cleaning crew, glinted off of the light of the sun. There was an eerie stillness to the apartment. He stepped away from the door, coming fully inside the apartment. There was a sudden chill to the air and in his veins. He was at once cold and began to sweat. His calm was replaced by a nervousness that penetrated his every cell. He started to shake. He was disorientated. Confused.

  It was just moments ago, as he climbed the stairs to the Cardinal’s flat, that he had been reveling in the feeling of his power and control. He had only just focused his energy and thoughts on the pane of glass at the window, and then watched as it cracked and shattered. It was more than he had anticipated. But then, God’s power was under no man’s control, he thought, as a smile spread across his face, and he quickly made the sign of the cross.

  He moved around the room, taking note of the teacups and the still heavy fragrance of Earl Grey that lingered about them. He allowed his hand to glide along the back of the sofa and the chair to the table and the abundance of books piled upon it. He touched as many of the books as he could, hoping to sense something. But there was nothing from any of the books, only a growing, gnawing nervousness inside him.

  Get out.

  It was as if someone had just spoken it aloud to him.

  Get out.

  A threat? A warning? He contemplated the words of the unspoken voice.

  A car door closed on the street below, just below the plastic covered window. He pulled at the covering, tearing a small section from the white duct tape holding it to the wall, and peered through.

  Two people stepped out of a police patrol car. A man and a woman. The patrol car pulled away slowly, leaving the man and woman on the street. The man glanced up to the window.

  The Novice quickly released the plastic covering, letting it fall back to the wall. He smiled as he watched the man take hold of the woman’s hand. The Key and his slut had returned.

  Get out.

  The warning echoed again within his thoughts.

  He took a step forward, unconsciously obeying the order, then stopped, flicking away the thoughts of leaving from his mind.

  “Stay,” he commanded to himself out loud. Stay and kill the slut and make the Key watch. Then the Key too, would die.

  Get out.

  “What are you asking of me?” The Novice turned his face skyward and spoke aloud.

  He heard the street level door at the bottom of the stairs open. Hushed voices swept up the stairway into the flat.

  The Novice took a step toward the open apartment door, intending to close it. As he moved toward the door, his hand fell upon a book left on the corner of the table by the window. A book on Roswell. A searing flash of pain coursed its way from his fingertips, up his arm and deep into his brain. His hand recoiled instinctively from the book and the pain ceased. He held his hand just above the cover of the book and feeling nothing, let his fingers drop down so that they were lightly touching the tattered cover. In an instant, an intense pain shot from his fingertips directly into his brain. He pulled his hand away, momentarily dazed. He shook off the effects, just as Dominic and Tonita stepped into the flat.

  Sheer panic, a feeling that the Novice was not accustomed to, overwhelmed him. His muscles tensed. His body ready to react, to spring in any direction that his mind asked of him. But his mind would not act. His thoughts were frozen, scattered at best, unclear, and in turmoil. His flesh reddened. Sweat broke out on his brow and trickled down the side of his face. He urged a hand to wipe it away, but the hand remained hovering above the book.

  Tonita was the first to step into the apartment. “Are you sure this is alright?” She turned her head to Dominic, who was just a stair step behind her.

  “No one else is staying here and we’ve...” Dominic came to a stop mid-stride. He reached out, grabbing Tonita around her stomach with his arm and pulled her quickly to him.

  “Dom? What the hell?” she said, pulling at his arm.

  “Hello.” The Novice smiled, finally gaining control of his thoughts and body.

  Tonita turned in the Novice’s direction, startled, “Hello,” she sucked in a breath and then let it out. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  The Novice fought the urge to grin broadly at Tonita’s statement, reveling in the hint of fear that he had caused her. “I’m sorry to have startled you,” he spoke in the soft quiet tone and manner that he imagined a Vatican emissary would use. “I’ve been sent by Vatican security to insure that everything here is in order. Well, the best that it can be given the circumstances.” He paused for moment eyeing Dominic and Tonita with a smile remaining on his face. “Are you looking for something?”

  “No. We were just checking to see that the apartment was secure,” Dominic said, without taking his eyes off the man.

  “I can assure you that it is well protected.” The Novice moved toward the doorway and the stairs. “You are not with the police?”

  “Oh, no, we are...we’re friends of the Cardinal” Tonita pushed herself closer into Dominic as the Novice approached.

  “Are you...” He looked into Dominic’s eyes, “... all right?” He allowed his eyes to drift up to the bandage covering Dominic’s head.

  “Yes,” Dominic said, dropping his arm from Tonita’s waist and bringing it up to touch the gauze wrapped around his head. “Just an accident.”

  “They seem to be happening quite frequently, Accidents.” He waited for a response, when none came, he continued, “Won’t you come in? I’m nearly finished here.”

  The Novice reached forward taking a hold of the door. “I understand if you wish to have some time alone with your thoughts.”

  Tonita smiled at the man. “Thank you. That is very kind of you.”

  “No. We’ll be on our way,” Dominic said, as he pushed Tonita around him, so that she now stood at the top of the stairs, behind him. Dominic stepped into the doorway blocking it.

  The smile on the Novi
ce’s face spread. “If you wish. But the offer stands.”

  Dominic placed an arm behind his back and using his fingers, motioned for Tonita to move aside. “I’m sorry,” he said to the Novice, “but I didn’t get your name?”

  The Novice’s smile faded then returned. He’s digging, he thought.

  DOMINIC EXTENDED HIS hand forward. “I’m Dominic,” he said to the man before him, who hesitated, then slowly extend his own hand.

  The hands of the men met.

  Dominic could feel the man’s flesh slide over his own. The hand was rough, calloused, and not at all as smooth as Dominic had expected it to be. Dominic wrapped his fingers around the man’s palm and began to move his hand up in the gentlemanly motion of the traditional Western greeting. The moment that Dominic had a secure handshake, he pulled the Novice toward him with all the strength he could muster.

  The Novice, caught off guard, fell toward Dominic. Off balance, he stumbled. The plastic smile on his face replaced by shock.

  Dominic did not let the momentum slow, and he pulled harder, allowing his arm to cock back completely.

  The Novice reached out with his left hand, crossing his own body, grabbing for the door to steady himself and missed. His hand slid along the door panel and he dug his fingernails into the wood in an instinctive effort to grasp something. But he only managed to scratch a curving trail into the wood. He flayed his arm, twisting his body as he did, throwing himself further off balance.

  Dominic held tight to the Novice’s right hand, and yanked one more time on his arm, pulling him through the doorway, past Dominic, and narrowly missing Tonita. At the last moment possible, Dominic released his grip on the Novice’s hand and sent him free falling, head first down the stars.

  Tonita screamed, “Dominic!”

  Before the Novice completed his tumbling, bone-cracking, flesh-tearing fall down the worn steps, Dominic had taken hold of Tonita’s hand, pulling her with him, taking the steps two at a time.