Anthony heard someone coming up behind him. He spun around only to be met by the uncompromising stare from museum guards.
“Scusi signore, signorina museum closes in fifteen minutes,” pointing to his watch.
“Si, grazie,” Anthony nodded to the guard.
The guard smiled and walked away. Anthony took a deep breath realizing there was no danger. They were the last to follow the other visitors down the stairs. On the first floor they had to walk through the museum’s small store to exit the building.
“Anthony, remember we were going to get a book and some materials on Bellini’s altarpiece to take back with us.”
Nelli could see the girl behind the register was getting ready to close up. “I’ll run and ask if she would wait a few more minutes, go grab some books.”
Anthony had already spotted the section on Bellini and rushed over to it while Nelli talked with the young woman at the counter. After a few minutes, Nelli turned, trying to locate Anthony, catching his eye, she nodded yes and waved for him to hurry.
The rain had stopped. Walking to the car Nelli jabbed Anthony in the ribs. “The girl at the register wasn’t too happy with me.”
As they got into the car and closed the doors, Mattithyahu was watching them from a distance. He noticed a man following Anthony’s and Nelli’s movements a little too closely. He snapped a few photos and sent it plus a text message to Anthony’s iPhone.
“Shoot, I left my umbrella leaning up against the wall by the women’s restroom in the museum,” said Nelli. “I’ll run back and get it. It will just take me a few minutes.”
“I’ll drive you up to the front entrance. It will be faster.”
Running in Nelli saw her umbrella was still where she had left it. The young man at the front desk had his back to her and was talking on the phone and didn’t hear her approaching.
“Si, si Americanos, signore, signorina asked directions to the library.”
Hearing someone, he turned to see who it was. When he saw Nelli he reacted as if he had been caught stealing. Regaining his composure, he ended the phone conversation abruptly.
“Scusi signorina, the museum is closed.”
“I left my umbrella.” Nelli pointed to it leaning against the wall.
“Ah! Si, si capire.”
CHAPTER 54
Anthony got the photo from Mattithyahu while Nelli was inside getting the umbrella. He stared at the picture on his cell phone. It was the same man from inside the museum. He’d seen him somewhere before. But where? Anthony thought he heard his father’s voice, of course that was impossible. He looked around quickly to see who was talking. There was no one there but then he heard the voice again.
“Remember what you were taught Anthony, the mind can function as a camera. It takes a picture of everything we see and logs it away for future reference. Think of your brain as a library. How would you go about researching information you needed? What are you looking for? People, places, or things?” Definitely a person, Anthony thought to himself.
His father continued. “How far back do you need to go—days, weeks, or years? Anthony only needed to go back a few days.
Suddenly it hit Anthony. It was as if he flipped the page in a book and there it was: a photograph of Nelli and him looking in the store window at a display of small boxes. Then everything around him faded away and he was staring into a mirror, that’s when he realized where he had seen the man before.
When the man knew Anthony had spotted him, he headed for the nearest side street. Just before he disappeared Anthony noticed the man had a slight limp. That’s what he noticed about the man in the museum. It was the same man. He called Mattithyahu.
“Anthony, did you get the pic…..”
“Mattithyahu, what do you know about the family of the man driving the car that was following Nelli and me?”
“The family name goes back many generations in this area and is believed to be connected to the Cosa Nostra. The father has been mayor of Rimini and is also a long-time member of the local Masonic Lodge. The chapter is one not recognized by the UGLE. The son was initiated a few years ago into the same chapter.”
“I’ll call you back,” Anthony said abruptly, the car door opened and his sister got in.
“What’s wrong Nelli? You look worried?”
“The strangest thing just happened. When I went back into the museum the young man at the front desk was on the phone. I overheard him telling the person on the other end that the two Americans asked for directions to the library. When he saw me, he got rattled and ended the call.”
Anthony had no doubt now that his sister was on someone’s radar.
“Someone out there is very interested in you. I must assume they suspect you could be the Chosen One, and I must also assume that that same someone is aware of the Chosen One’s role in fulfilling the prophecy of Saint Anthony. If the person knows we are looking for a book ….” Anthony hesitated before making the next statement. “Nelli, do you understand what I am suggesting?”
Nelli sat there quietly. She was remembering what her father had told her: if you are pure of heart you have nothing to fear. Turning her head towards Anthony, she reached over and rested her hand on his arm.
“We suspected it might not be easy, but evil will never win against those that believe and put their trust in God.”
“I believe that too, Nelli. I was chosen to be your Guardian and with that duty, the other Guardians and I must protect you against the dark forces that do not want you to succeed. Unfortunately, evil has already taken its first victim, Father Roberto. When Mary Ellen gets here tomorrow we must find out what the priest told her. Before the day is over, I want to get into the library’s archives to see if we can find a link between Saint Anthony and Gradara Castle.”
“Anthony, someone knows we’ve asked directions on how to get to the library.”
“I know. I’ll make a few inquiries but first let’s get away from here.” He drove in the opposite direction of the library.
“Why don’t we head back to the Piazza del Popolo? We can stop and get a light snack so we don’t spoil our appetites for the meal Franco is preparing for us tonight. You can start to study some of the materials I got from the museum store while I make a few calls.”
“Whatever you think is best but aren’t you worried about us being followed?”
“We have our own personal security team Nelli. Little does our assailant know he has someone following him.”
Nelli smiled and decided to look through one of the books on the altarpiece. Her brother made some calls but spoke in Italian, so she had no idea what was being discussed.
She scanned through the history on Bellini, how he was essential to the development of the Italian Renaissance art and his use of “disguised symbolism” in his paintings. That’s interesting, she thought to herself and continued reading.
Commissioned by the Sforza family, Bellini created the great altarpiece, Coronation of the Virgin, which seemed to be his earliest effort in a form of art previously almost monopolized in Venice by the rival school of the Vivarini. Many times the likenesses of the benefactor’s family members were represented as religious figures in the paintings.
In Coronation of the Virgin, some believe Saint Lawrence had an uncanny resemblance to Lord Sforza’s son. She flipped through more pages and stopped on the page titled “Artist’s Inspiration.” Art historians discussed the reasons of some of the choices for Bellini’s works. The artist had kept notes on each of his paintings and what inspired him. Unfortunately, many of his notes that were retrieved were damaged or faded with age. A notebook recently discovered is believed to be on the altarpiece now hanging in a museum in Pesaro. It corresponds to the dates and location when he would have worked on this particular piece.
In it he writes, “It was as if the Holy Spirit came down and guided my hand. Normally it takes much thinking to decide what to put into my paintings but with this painting, I knew immediately what I should include
. I believe the divine hand of God directed me to create this work.”
Nelli saw that Anthony was finished making calls. “Anthony listen to this,” as she read out loud the last few paragraphs from the book.
She turned and faced her brother, “We need to get into the library and find out everything we can about Gradara Castle. I believe it could be the clue we’re looking for.”
“It’s all taken care of; everything is set up for later this evening
CHAPTER 55
The wall clock softy chimed on the hour. Donovan looked up to see if it was really three o’clock already. It was Patrick McKenna’s wish that his son get the clock after his death. It was a ritual for the cardinal to wind the clock and say goodnight to his father as he left his office each evening. He always smiled when taking down the key, remembering his father, telling him ad infinitum, “Now don’t wind it too tightly son, or you will break the spring.”
You never knew what to expect from his father. McKenna would often see his mother shake her head with frustration but laughing at the same time when her husband would pull one of his legendary practical jokes. His father loved his family, life, and his church. Donovan remembered how proud his father was when he announced he wanted to become a priest one day. From that day on his father always introduced him as, this is my son the future Father McKenna.
There was a knock at his door. It had to be Robert telling him he was leaving for the day.
“Come in, Robert.”
He was carrying a banker’s box in his arms.
“This just came for you Cardinal McKenna. Would you like it in your office?”
“Yes please, place it here on my desk.”
“Is there anything else you would like me to do before I leave for the day?”
“Maybe you could make sure our two new friends out in the hallway aren’t sleeping on the job,” winking at Robert. Since His Holiness had assigned the two Swiss Guards for protection, he was never alone.
“That I don’t think we need to worry about Cardinal McKenna,” he said laughing.
“Then I will see you on Monday. Please leave my door open. Goodnight Robert.”
Robert turned off the lights as he left except for the small lamp in the corner of the seating area. On the wall next to it hung a painting by Alessandro Botticelli, Madonna del Libro. It was a beautiful painting of the baby Jesus looking up at his mother Mary lovingly as she teaches him to read. When Cardinal McKenna was alone in the office, he liked to have his door left open so he could look at the painting from his desk. Botticelli had captured in the child’s face the essence of his love for his mother so exquisitely you could almost feel the emotion radiating from the painting.
Many of the great artists did more than just paint pictures, they told stories. Some even have left clues to mysteries yet unsolved in their works, but that was for another day. His attention was now drawn to the box on his desk.
What, if anything, would he uncover that others hadn’t from the stack of financial records and documents of a scandal that happened almost thirty years ago?
He glanced up at his father’s clock, “Well, Dad, looks like we have a few more hours of work before we can call it a day.” He lifted the lid and pulled out the first file.
Late afternoon had turned to evening and the drapes on the windows now framed black holes in the walls. He didn’t remember turning on the desk lamp. Massaging the back of his neck he removed his reading glasses and checked the time. Had he read the clock right? Quarter to ten?
Picking up the legal pad, he looked over the information he had written down. He had divided a sheet of paper into three columns. He wrote the word DATE at the top of the first one. At the top of the second column he wrote NAME and the third column, EVENT.
The meetings between Parocchi and Father Maciel appeared to be just the tip of the iceberg. Glancing at the sheet of paper in front of him, a pattern was developing that he couldn’t ignore. Something unholy was taking place. He could feel it.
Where was the money coming from to make all these transfers? The pictures that Mary Ellen had shown him were of Parocchi going into the same bank, a Swiss bank located in Lugano, which was named in the Banco Ambrosiano scandal in the early 1980s.
Swiss banks are known to be safe havens for offshore bank accounts. The main advantage is the bank account owned by the customer, a nonresident in a foreign country, is one hundred percent private and confidential where bank secrecy laws apply. Friends, spouses, tax authorities, personal enemies, and governments can never get access to a person’s financial records.
Flipping through the yellow sheets of paper, he read through the notes he had made about the conspiracy theory around the death of Pope John Paul I. It was speculated that P2 had the banker Roberto Calvi killed, and his clothing stuffed with bricks and $15,000 worth of cash in three different currencies. Many considered it to be a masonic warning because of the symbolism associated with the word “Blackfriars.” Although it was initially ruled a suicide, it was later prosecuted as a murder.
Mary Ellen’s suspicions, plus his own findings, were beginning to frighten him. What was the goal of the P2 leader back then? Had P2 been resurrected with a new leader? Evil is always present even when we think it isn’t, that’s actually when we need to be the most vigilant.
As he looked at the portrait of His Holiness that hung next to his father’s clock, the prophecy of Saint Malachy haunted him. According to the Abbé Cucherat, Saint Malachy while in Rome to give an account of the affairs of his diocese to the Pope, Innocent II, received the strange vision of the future where it was unfolded before his mind the long list of illustrious pontiffs who were to rule the Church until the end of time. The second to the last name on the list was symbolized by an olive branch. Pope Benedict was becoming recognized as the Pope who wanted to extend the olive branch to create world peace.
The next name on that list, which was also the last name on the list, is what caused fear in McKenna. Some say it will be the name the Antichrist takes before the end, with the coming of Christ, as described in the Book of Revelation.
Then there was the prophecy of Saint Anthony and his visit by the angel, who told him to write the words of the Lord down in a book. When the time came, the Chosen One would deliver it to the one who would be known by the symbol of the olive branch.
Donovan’s mind was reeling; you need to get some sleep, he told himself. Your imagination is working overtime. You’re trying to find a link between the LC, a secret society that no longer exists, and a 600-year-old prophecy. I’d better keep those thoughts to myself, otherwise someone might think I’ve lost my grasp on reality but the transfers of money to the LC over the last five years were not his imagination. That was fact. He needed to make copies of his findings and give them to Mary Ellen before she left in the morning, so she could read them over the weekend.
He was slow getting up from his chair, his legs stiff from sitting for so long. There was also a message on his cell phone. It was from the archivist from the Vatican library. His heart started racing. Could the researcher have found evidence of the private diary of Saint Anthony?
He replied to the message but it was almost an hour since it had been sent. McKenna decided it would be morning before he would know what it was the researcher had found out.
Removing the key from the top of the clock’s mantel he wound the gear, gently turning the key, but not too much. It was all in the touch. One too many turns and you could break the spring.
“Good night, Dad.”
Placing the key back on the mantel of the clock, he whispered, “Watch over your son.”
CHAPTER 56
Anthony and Nelli found a little trattoria across from the Palazzo Ducale. They decided to split a plate of antipasto and share a bottle of the house Chianti. After placing the order, the waiter stood there waiting for the other menu choices. Anthony smiled and told him that completed their order.
The waiter looked at them like they had just
committed a mortal sin. The young man acknowledged he understood, shrugged his shoulders, and walked away.
“What was that all about?” Nelli asked.
“Remember the afternoon meal is a major affair here. Businesses close up and everyone goes to a restaurant or home for a leisurely two to three hour seven-course meal. In Italy, antipasto is equivalent to hors d’oeuvres in America.”
Nelli glanced at the tables around them. She assumed most of them were occupied by the residents of the town. She couldn’t help notice that almost everyone smoked.
“Italians do like their cigarettes, don’t they?”
“Yes, that’s an understatement to say the least.”
Their waiter returned with a large platter containing cured meats, olives, pepperoni, mushrooms, artichoke hearts, cheeses, and roasted garlic. A second young man placed a bottle of Chianti and two glasses on the table. Nelli was shocked by the huge platter of food.
Their server poured the wine and said, “Mangia, mangia” then grinned from ear to ear, set the bottle down and was off to another table.
Anthony laughed, “I guess he made his point. There is enough here to make up for a couple more courses.”
While they ate Anthony filled Nelli in on the evening plans. The afternoon went by very quickly. They took a walk through the gardens at the Palazzo Ducale and on the way back to the villa located the exit for Gradara Castle. They decided to tour the castle after Mary Ellen arrived tomorrow.
Back at the villa Nelli wanted to freshen up a little and make a couple calls. She would check in at the office and then see if she could catch Larry. After she headed upstairs, Anthony took a stroll on the grounds and checked in with some of the other Guardians for updates.
As he walked by the kitchen section of the villa, he could hear Franco singing along to an Italian opera. The smells coming from the window were heavenly. For a second, he allowed himself the pleasure of enjoying the beauty of the countryside and the aromas drifting from the kitchen window. His phone buzzed.
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