‘What is it?’ Gerald asked.
Dr Serafini pulled back the cover. ‘I was hoping you would tell me,’ he said.
It was a wooden display case. Under the glass top was a piece of yellowed paper covered in writing of the faintest ink. A black leather lace was threaded through two holes at the bottom of the paper, and tied in the middle was a gold disc, about the size of a hockey puck.
‘I think you might recognise this,’ Dr Serafini said to Gerald.
Pressed into the gold disk was the clear impression of three forearms clamped at the elbows forming a triangle around a blazing sun.
‘Your family seal, I believe,’ Dr Serafini said, watching Gerald’s reaction. ‘Professor McElderry was asking about it some weeks back. When he told me you were coming, I thought you might like to see it.’
Gerald looked carefully at the disc. The detail in the metal was exquisite.
‘What does the writing say?’ Ruby asked.
‘This, Miss Valentine, is a letter written in 394AD by one Quintus Antonius to Theodosius the Great, emperor of Rome.’
Gerald took in a sharp breath.
Quintus Antonius.
His ancestor.
‘Professor McElderry told us the emperor sent Quintus and his three sons on some secret mission,’ Gerald said, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing.
‘As ever, Knox has done his research,’ Dr Serafini said. ‘This letter is a report of that very mission.’
‘Does it say anything about golden rods?’ Sam asked. Gerald winced, and he saw Ruby screw her eyes shut.
Dr Serafini glanced sideways at Sam. ‘Nothing as interesting as that,’ he said. ‘My Latin is a little rusty, and this letter is written in the vernacular, the common language of the day. It is possible to translate it many ways.’
‘That’s okay,’ Sam said. ‘Just give it your best shot.’
Dr Serafini looked at Sam again. ‘My best shot, eh?’ He pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and adjusted them on his nose. He then read the letter written to the emperor more than sixteen hundred years ago.
Our group is a day’s ride from Brindisium. We meet with a company of your legionnaires in a week. All is unfolding as planned. I will take the young men into my confidence once we are at sea. My sons serve Rome well. Your eternal reign is secure.
Your servant,
Quintus Antonius, Consul of Rome
Gerald’s eyebrows were arched high. ‘Wow. Do you have any idea what they were doing?’
Dr Serafini peered at him over his glasses. ‘I thought you might know something about that.’
Gerald felt Dr Serafini’s eyes drilling into him. ‘There was a map in London,’ Gerald said. ‘With three paths coming out of Rome. We thought it might have shown the routes taken by Quintus’s sons when they smuggled the…’ His voice trailed off. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.
Dr Serafini tilted his head a little. ‘Smuggled?’
‘Three golden rods,’ Sam chimed in. Ruby landed a sharp kick to her brother’s right ankle, sending him to the floor with a yelp of pain.
‘Aren’t you clumsy?’ Ruby said to her brother. She helped him to his feet. ‘You ought to take more care.’ She turned to Dr Serafini. ‘Three olden roads,’ she said. ‘What my clumsy brother was trying to say was they must have taken three olden day roads on their trip to wherever.’ She gave a light laugh.
Dr Serafini stroked his beard. Gerald could tell he didn’t believe a word Ruby said.
‘Brindisium is the ancient name for Brindisi,’ Dr Serafini said. ‘It was the main port for all Roman shipping to Greece. Ferries still ply the route today.’
‘So Quintus was travelling to Greece?’ Gerald said.
Dr Serafini folded the leather cover back over the display case. ‘Possibly. But wherever they went, it’s ancient history now,’ he said. ‘However, I digress. Knox tells me you are interested in the Tower of the Winds.’
‘That’s right,’ Gerald said, happy to move the conversation on. ‘I hear there’s some interesting paintings in there. Sam is really interested in art.’
Dr Serafini raised an eyebrow.
‘He is?’
‘Sure,’ said Sam. ‘Why not?’
‘You don’t strike me as the sit-down-for-a-long-period-of-time type of boy. But yes, there are some extraordinary frescoes in there. Come. It will be my pleasure to show you.’
Sam shuffled next to Gerald as Dr Serafini led them out of the room and down a long corridor. He whispered into Gerald’s ear, ‘What’s a fresco?’
Ruby was about to take another shot at Sam’s ankle, but Dr Serafini turned around to face them. ‘The Tower of the Winds is not open to the public. It would be too difficult to manage crowds in such a tight space; few have seen its treasures.’
‘Is it true the tower was first used as an observatory?’ Sam asked.
Dr Serafini gave him a surprised look. ‘That’s right. The meridian hall still has the marble line across the floor where they marked their observations of the positions of the sun hundreds of years ago.’
They stopped in front of a door. Brown paint was peeling from its surface. Dr Serafini opened it and they went inside.
‘Take a seat,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
‘Where are you going?’ Ruby asked.
‘To fetch a key,’ he said, smiling. ‘I won’t be long.’
Dr Serafini pulled the door closed. And then came the sound of a lock turning.
Gerald moved to the door and rattled the handle. It wouldn’t budge.
‘I don’t like the look of this,’ he said. He crossed to the windows on the opposite wall.
‘Why would he lock us in?’ Ruby said, and she tried the door again.
‘I don’t want to hang around to find out,’ Gerald said. ‘There’s a ledge out here. It runs the length of the building. I reckon we could climb down to the courtyard.’
Ruby joined him by the window and looked at the five metre drop to the ground below. ‘You’re not serious?’
Gerald tugged on a metal bolt that secured one of the windows. ‘Dr Serafini seemed awfully interested in the golden rods,’ he said. The bolt worked free and Gerald pushed the window open. ‘He may not be as friendly as he makes out.’
But before Gerald could climb onto the sill, the door behind them opened.
Dr Serafini stepped into the room, followed by Constable Lethbridge and the stern-faced figure of Walter. And in the corridor beyond, it seemed, was half the Vatican security service.
Chapter 15
A broad white bandage was wrapped around the top of Walter’s head. He greeted Gerald through gritted teeth.
Gerald looked from Walter to the open window.
Ruby stared at him in alarm. ‘Gerald, don’t…’
Then Walter stepped forward. ‘Let me speak to the boy. I’m trained in child psychology,’ he said to Dr Serafini who nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.
‘Don’t be mad with Dr Serafini,’ Walter said to Gerald. ‘He contacted us after hearing from Professor McElderry this morning. He was concerned about your safety.’ Walter gave Gerald a look of practised pity. ‘As we all are, Gerry.’
‘Rubbish!’ Sam said. ‘You’re just worried about Gerald’s money.’
Walter smiled. ‘Such negative energy in one so young.’
‘Is that right? How’s the head?’ Sam replied.
Walter’s smile vanished. He placed a hand on the bandage and pressed his lips together. ‘I am willing to forgive the assault by your sister,’ he said. ‘Don’t push it.’
Walter faced Gerald and forced another smile. ‘You are a child. A simple boy. Your brain isn’t developed enough to be making important decisions. That’s why you’re in such trouble. I bet you find yourself in trouble at school all the time. Am I right? You need to let an adult decide for you. I know what’s best.’
Gerald couldn’t believe wh
at he was hearing. ‘Is that how you see my mother? You know what’s best for her too?’
Walter took a pace towards Gerald with his hands extended. ‘Come home, Gerry. Face up to what you’ve done. Confession will shore up your foundations—give you a firm footing from which to construct a new and better tower of you. Now, you will have to start your new life in the basement. Or prison, more like. And it may delay access to your inheritance for a few years. But what are years at your age? And your mother, with my guidance, will manage the estate for you.’
Ruby snorted. ‘How considerate,’ she said.
Walter lowered his hands. ‘It’s the best offer you’re going to get today, son,’ he said. ‘The constable and I are ready to take you home.’
Gerald turned to Lethbridge, who was standing just inside the closed door. ‘You know there’s no way I killed Mason Green. It had to be Charlotte.’
The policeman was gazing out the window with a lost look on his face.
‘When you saw her,’ Lethbridge said, ‘did she mention me?’
Gerald was surprised by the question. ‘Um, I think she said something about meeting you.’
Lethbridge sighed deeply. ‘She was very beautiful. Her lips…they were like a big jam doughnut…’
‘I’m not sure I’d put it quite like that, but yeah, I guess she had nice lips.’
Lethbridge’s gaze was stuck on the window. ‘All I ever wanted was a friend,’ he said. ‘And my pigeons.’
Clouds drifted over the sun, drawing a grey curtain across the sky.
‘Constable Lethbridge?’ Ruby said. ‘Are you all right?’
Lethbridge’s eyes misted over. ‘You really think you can catch her?’ he asked.
‘I really think we have to try,’ Gerald said.
Walter had heard enough. ‘Listen you.’ He walked over and prodded Lethbridge in the chest. ‘Your job is to bring this kid back to England to face justice. No one cares about your love life. Cuff him and let’s get out of this dump.’
Lethbridge reached for the handcuffs on his belt.
The door banged open and Gerald was bundled into the corridor, his hands behind his back and a scowl set on his face. Lethbridge had a heavy paw on his shoulder and was shoving him forward.
‘Stop struggling!’ he barked. Gerald muttered a curse under his breath. The constable turned to the group of security guards who were still waiting in the hallway. Somehow they all had cups of coffee. ‘Thank you for your assistance,’ Lethbridge said. ‘Molte grazie. We have a car waiting to take us to the airport.’
Lethbridge was followed out of the room by Sam and then Ruby, who pulled the door closed behind her.
Dr Serafini stepped from an adjoining office, a puzzled expression on his face. He called after Lethbridge as they barrelled down the corridor. ‘What about the American?’
Lethbridge looked back over his shoulder, still pushing Gerald ahead of him. ‘He’s on the phone to the embassy,’ he said. ‘He won’t be a moment.’
Lethbridge shoved Gerald harder. By the time they reached the end of the corridor they were almost running. They burst around the corner and set off.
‘How long do you think we’ve got?’ Sam asked, his feet skating across the tiled floor.
‘As long as it takes for Walter to free himself,’ Gerald said.
‘Those handcuffs aren’t coming off without a key,’ Lethbridge said. ‘And that radiator pipe will take some moving. He won’t be going anywhere for a while.’
‘Nice touch with the sock, by the way,’ Sam said to Gerald. Gerald felt his bare right foot squelching inside his shoe.
‘I wouldn’t fancy having it stuffed into my mouth,’ Gerald said. ‘I haven’t changed it in three days. But it should keep Walter quiet for a bit.’
Ruby laughed. ‘It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.’
They reached a flight of stairs and took them two at a time. Gerald stepped over a velvet rope strung across the top and into a gallery full of tour groups.
Lethbridge, Ruby and Sam clustered around him. ‘Which way now?’ Ruby asked.
‘Dr Serafini said the Tower of the Winds isn’t open to the public and I don’t fancy asking a security guard for directions,’ Gerald said.
‘Maybe we should join the tourists and keep an eye out for a sign?’ Ruby said.
‘I guess that’s as good a plan as any,’ Gerald said. He turned to Constable Lethbridge. ‘Thanks for helping us get away, but it’s probably best if we go it alone from here. You tend to stick out a bit.’
Lethbridge nodded and wiped his palm down the front of his trousers. ‘The least I could do,’ he said, shaking Gerald’s hand. ‘I was getting sick of being bossed around by that fellow anyway.’
‘Won’t you be in trouble?’ Ruby asked. ‘Will Inspector Jarvis be angry?’
Lethbridge snuffled a laugh. ‘Inspector Jarvis was born angry. I’ll say you forced me to do it.’
‘What!’ said Gerald. ‘Won’t that get me into trouble?’
Lethbridge turned to the exit. ‘No more trouble than you’re already in, sunshine,’ he said. And with a wave, he was lost in the crowd.
‘He’s not as silly as he looks,’ Gerald said.
They tagged onto the end of a school group and tried to blend in. They passed through gallery after gallery with walls and ceilings covered in murals.
‘Look,’ Ruby said to Sam, ‘I think we’re coming up to the Sistine Chapel.’ Before Sam could open his mouth, Ruby said, ‘Don’t ask. Just look and appreciate.’
The torrent of tourists swept through a doorway and emptied into a large chamber. The first thing Gerald noticed was that everyone was looking up with their mouths flopped open.
His eyes were drawn up, too.
And he joined the slack-jawed masses.
‘Oh my,’ Ruby whispered. ‘It’s…magnificent.’
The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel stared back at the crowd below. The entire surface, including the walls, was covered in the most extraordinary frescoes. Light poured in from tall windows, lifting the colours on the walls to even greater brilliance.
‘Look,’ said Ruby. ‘The Last Judgment. The Creation of Adam. It’s astounding.’
Even Sam seemed impressed. Gerald scanned the walls. The artist had divided them into a jigsaw of shapes, all filled with recreations of the stories of antiquity. Hundreds of figures were depicted across the ceiling and walls, their clothes a rainbow of oranges, yellows and blues. Cherubs and angels vied for attention with mortals and prophets. Around the perimeter were a dozen giant portraits each with its name inscribed underneath.
An Irish priest guiding a party of nuns around the chapel stopped beside Gerald. ‘Look, sisters,’ he said. ‘The twelve seers. There’s Daniel. And Ezekiel. Over there is Jonah. And right in front of us is the sibyl of Delphi.’ Gerald followed their gaze to a painting of a young woman holding a scroll in one hand. She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She had a purple cape over her shoulders and her head was wrapped in a plain scarf. She was looking off to the side, as if distracted by someone entering the room. What was she thinking? What could she see?
It took the blast of a police whistle to snap Gerald back to reality.
His head darted around, searching for the guards. The whistle seemed to come from all directions at once. But another blast pinned the origin. By the chapel entrance stood three security guards.
And they were all pointing at Gerald.
Ruby dashed up to him, dragging Sam by the arm. ‘The exit’s this way,’ she said, and dived into the crowd.
The guards moved as one, making their way through the crush of tourists. Gerald didn’t falter—he flew after Ruby and Sam, and they elbowed their way to the exit.
‘Quick!’ Ruby said. ‘Through here.’
She hurdled a velvet rope strung across a narrow entryway and they bolted up a tight stairwell to a small alcove facing a closed wooden door.
Gerald turned the handle and the
y bustled into a gallery that seemed to stretch on forever—the high vaulted ceilings accentuated the narrowness of the room. The walls were hung with enormous paintings of maps, which gave the gallery a blue hue of water.
All the tourist traffic was coming towards them. Gerald could see they would have to battle the tide.
‘We can’t go that way,’ he said with a jab of his thumb. ‘That’ll take us back to the Sistine Chapel.’
Ruby prodded him between the shoulder blades. ‘Then lead on MacGerald,’ she said. Sam gave her a confused look and she raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I’ll explain later.’
Sam fell in behind Gerald as he ploughed through the various groups of school students and retired Americans. They finally reached a set of glazed double doors and heaved their way into another long gallery. This one was hung with enormous tapestries.
Gerald ducked into a corner next to the doorway. On the ground was a map of the museum that someone must have dropped. He unfolded it and Sam and Ruby crowded around to see.
‘We must be here,’ Gerald said, pointing to a long gallery on the western side. ‘But I can’t see “Tower of the Winds” marked anywhere.’
Ruby took the map and studied it closely. She shook her head. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘What do we do?’
Sam had taken a step back and was staring vacantly down the gallery. ‘What do you think Torre dei Venti means?’ he asked.
Ruby and Gerald looked up from the map. ‘What was that?’ Ruby said.
‘Torre dei Venti,’ Sam said. ‘It’s on a signpost up there.’ They followed the direction of his outstretched finger to a slender wooden pole with a number of cross boards showing the way to various galleries. ‘Torre sounds like tower. And Venti could be winds. It sounds right. What do you think?’
Ruby stared at her brother for a second—then hugged him. ‘You continue to surprise me,’ she said, giving him an extra squeeze.
Sticking close to the side of the gallery, they managed to avoid the main flow of tourists and were almost at the signpost when Ruby grabbed Gerald.
‘Guard,’ she said in his ear. ‘Over by the stairs.’
The Mask of Destiny Page 15