by Chad Brecher
“That was close,” Ellie said.
Jonas rose to a crouching position and drew them close as if in a huddle. He whispered with a look of displeasure. “The only way out of here is through the vineyard. Follow me. Move quickly and don’t look back.”
Before anyone could respond, Jonas had moved further into the vegetation. They struggled to keep up with him as he darted across rows, ducked under vines, and pushed into the darkness. The further they moved away from the house, the only sound they could hear was the crunch of their footsteps. After traveling for over fifteen minutes, they arrived at an overgrown stone outcropping.
Jonas pushed his hands through the weeds and drew them apart, revealing an entranceway to a cave. “This way,” he whispered, motioning for each of them to enter. He took up the rear.
Alex and Ellie found themselves in complete blackness. They could hear Jonas curse and the sound of him searching desperately in the blackness. “Here it is!” A yellow beam from an oversized flashlight illuminated the interior of the cave.
“What is this place?” Ellie asked, her eyes exploring the stone walls.
“It’s an ancient aqueduct from Roman times, a nice archeological prize to have on your property, but more importantly a conduit to safety in times of need,” Clay responded with some pride.
“You’ve used this before?” Alex asked.
“I’m glad to say that I never had to, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” Clay winked at them and turned to follow Jonas who had continued to push deeper and deeper into the tunnel.
Alex pulled the leather satchel snuggly against his chest, reached out into the darkness and gripped Ellie’s hand. They walked side by side through the passageway to the sound of distant water droplets dripping and the squish of their shoes against ancient sediment.
“I’d say we escaped just in the nick of time.” Clay’s voice echoed as he ducked down to avoid hitting his head on a partially caved-in portion of the stone ceiling.
Alex mused upon what Ellie had said earlier about not trusting Clay. He couldn’t agree more but as they traveled through the ancient aqueduct he could not help but feel a sense of camaraderie with the old man — a bonding based on the uneasy realization that for better or worse their fates appeared linked — they were all being hunted. They had stumbled upon something larger than each one of them. They were following in the footsteps of Polo. There is no getting off this ride, Alex thought and shuddered.
Ellie could feel Alex shiver and squeezed his hand in response. He turned to her and tried to muster up a brave smile. He felt responsible for getting her into this mess.
“I should have never called you,” Alex muttered.
“Huh?” Ellie raised her eyebrows.
“That night I showed you what I had found on the box. Those guys chasing us are the real deal. They have guns, explosives, and they are looking for us. They want to kill us.”
“It’s not your fault. The truth is that I haven’t felt alive for a while: not since Iraq. This may sound sappy, but I don’t think you can die twice. Something died within me in Mosul. Without you and this…” Ellie waved her hand. “…I think I would have stayed dead. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“What happened in Iraq?” Alex tried to look into her eyes, but she turned away.
“Ask me some other time. Ask me something different.” Ellie’s hand slid from Alex’s and she hugged herself. Alex dug his hands deeply into his pocket and walked in silence.
“What’s the ‘C’ for?” Alex finally asked.
“Huh?” Ellie responded, squinting at him.
“The ‘C’ in ‘ECG.’ Eleanor C. Griffin.”
“Oh.” Ellie smirked. “Cleopatra.”
Alex nodded and smiled in the blackness. Of course, he thought. They continued to push further and further into the aqueduct, following Jonas’s dim light in the distance.
31
The blue Mercedes sat a small distance from the end of the aqueduct, hidden behind foliage and trees. Dusty and scratched, the car looked weathered, to say the least. Jonas eased the key he had found fastened to the visor into the ignition and turned it. The car initially screeched in protest, grunted several times, and began to vibrate.
“Like a kitten,” Jonas smirked as he flipped the visor down and adjusted the rear-view mirror.
“More like a wounded tiger. I hope this car will make it to Verona,” Clay responded as he attempted to wipe away grime from the passenger window with the sleeve of his jacket. The leather upholstery creaked as he settled into the passenger seat and turned to face Alex and Ellie in the backseat.
“That is where we are headed? Verona?” Clay asked.
“We think that is where Polo is leading us,” Alex explained. “There is a church in Verona called the Church of San Proculus. It is near the Basilica of San Zeno on the outskirts of the city. The priest that prepared Polo’s will was from that church.”
“And the diamonds?” Clay extended the palm of his hand into the backseat. Alex could see Ellie give him a sideways look of distrust. Alex removed one from the box and placed it in the old man’s palm. He watched as Clay held it up in the light. The jewel flickered brilliantly as he spun it between his thumb and index finger. Jonas’s eyes opened wide with wonder…and perhaps something more. Alex squinted at the man.
“It’s beautiful.” Clay handed it back to Alex.
“What if this is Polo’s secret? Maybe this is the treasure he was hiding,” Jonas offered.
“There was a message in the box with the diamond that again referred to Saint Proculus,” Alex answered. “Also we haven’t found the third symbol, the circle with the dot in the middle. I think the diamond is another piece in the puzzle…”
“No!” Ellie interrupted.
Alex nearly dropped the diamond as he twirled around to find Ellie examining the contents of Alex’s leather satchel. She had splayed out the contents of the bag upon the seat between them and finally displayed the empty bag.
“My notes…the laptop, they are not here!”
“Everything was so rushed. We couldn’t take everything. We were lucky we got out of there with our lives,” Clay responded.
Ellie looked at Alex with alarm. “My notes had everything we talked about. It had all of our research. We practically left them a map of our plans. They’re going to quickly figure out what we know,” Ellie wailed.
The car grew quiet as Jonas eased the stick shift into first gear and let the car roll forward. The vehicle roughly bumped up and down the uneven, unpaved path. He eased the car by small trees and bushes, allowing it to pick up speed as it neared the bottom of a small hill and the beginning of a paved road. As the tires contacted the pavement, Jonas’ foot settled onto the accelerator. The car lurched forward and began to steadily pick of speed as it traveled along the provincial roads.
“Then, I suggest we get a move on if we hope to beat our friends to Verona,” Jonas muttered as he focused on the road ahead.
32
The car rattled as it drove across the short bridge spanning the River Adige. Ellie stirred from her slumber and shielded her eyes from the sunlight. She could see Alex sitting next to her staring at a sketch he had made of the key symbol hidden on the bottom of the wooden box.
She watched in silence as he turned the symbol ninety degrees so that the key faced downward and rubbed his chin in thought.
Ellie yawned. “What is it?”
“This symbol bothers me. I can see that it looks like a key with the ridges at the end but I don’t understand what the circle means.” He traced the two intersecting lines. “It doesn’t fit in with the other crosses.”
“Maybe it’s just trying to say that the diamonds in the box are the ‘keys’ to solving Polo’s riddle.”
Alex pushed the sketch aside as Jonas eased the car to the side of the road. The car idled beside a large stonewall. Ellie craned her head in an attempt to peer out the front windshield, in hopes of gaining her bearing.
“Is this it?” she asked. Alex pulled himself up and peered over Clay’s shoulder. Jonas and Clay were consulting a cell phone, which displayed a digital map of Verona. He watched as they zoomed up onto Regaste San Zeno, a road that paralleled for a stretch the River Adige as it wound its way through the city of Verona. Jonas panned through the map with the flick of his finger, exploring the area to the west of the river. An icon of a cross popped up a small distance from the Via Lega Veronese. He handed the phone back to Clay, pulled away from the curve without a word, and maneuvered through the streets of Verona. He finally stopped the car in a large outdoor parking area beside several oversized stone vessels filled with flowers.
“Now we are here,” Jonas pronounced and shut off the engine. Glad to be free of the vibrations that shook the frame of the car during their travels, the four spilled out of the vehicle with an overwhelming feeling of relief. Ellie breathed deeply the unseasonably warm air and stared ahead at a large stone church.
The front of the church was disappointingly unattractive. The stone was a dreary cream-color that had been discolored by the elements through the centuries. A stone arch capped a bronze door composing the narthex of the church. Two stone lions flanked columns beside the entranceway. Above the arch was an elaborate window composed of twelve panes of glass arranged like petals of a flower.
“It’s a rose window popularly found in Gothic architecture.” Alex pointed to the window like a tour-guide. “They call it the Ruota della Fortuna — the wheel of fortune.”
“Is this then the Church of San Procolo?” Clay asked as they walked towards the building.
“No. This is the Basilica San Zeno — the church dedicated to the patron saint of Verona.”
Ellie could see a Romanesque bell tower to the right of the basilica and the remnants of an old Benedictine abbey to the left consisting of a brick tower and cloisters.
“I don’t want to interrupt the history lesson, but let’s not linger out in the open, mind you. Where is this Church of San Procolo?” Jonas asked gruffly, constantly scanning the area for any sign of trouble. Ellie’s concern that her notes could have tipped off their pursuers to their location was not lost on Jonas who had surreptitiously slid an extra cartridge of bullets into his boot before leaving the car.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been here before.” Alex tentatively approached the entranceway. Ascending a small flight of stone stairs, he walked between the two crouching lion sculptures that flanked the porch of the church. The bronze doors were parted, revealing an ornate interior that belied the weathered and relatively understated exterior. Built in the shape of a Roman cross, the nave stretched away from them as they entered into the hall. Corinthian columns constructed out of alternating white and pink marble divided the nave into two long aisles. A staircase led to the presbytery housing the sarcophagi of Veronese saints that overlooked the grand hall. Steps led downward to the crypt where the body of Saint Zeno resided within an urn.
Ellie followed Alex as he explored the interior of the church while Clay lingered by a statue depicting Saint Zeno holding a fishing rod and his dangling catch. Jonas took up the rear, suspiciously eying visitors to the museum who dallied by the columns and looked their way.
“What do you think?” Ellie questioned.
“We need to find someone to ask where the Church of San Procolo is located.”
Alex squeezed his body into a small group of tourists clustered around a baroque altar with a Pieta painted upon the wall. He could feel Ellie’s body twist by several of the tourists and brush up against his back. As they neared the front of the group, the tour guide was entertaining the idea that the crypt of Saint Zeno was supposed to be the site of the marriage of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Several of the tourists smiled at the thought.
The guide raised a Union Jack flag on a stick over the heads of the clustered tourists in case one of her group had wandered off, and opened a nearby door.
“Now if you will follow me, we will be entering the adjacent cloisters.” The tour guide held the door open as the members of her group filed past her and into the sunlight. She smiled painfully as if to fight a severe headache. Alex sidled up to her.
“Excuse me, where could I find the Church of San Procolo?”
“San Procolo? It’s a delightful little church. But, it’s not on the tour.”
“Where could we find it?” Alex motioned to Ellie.
“Go out through the front door and make a left. You’ll see it at the end of the fence.”
Alex thanked her and drifted away from the assembly with Ellie following closely behind. They met Clay and Jonas within the central portion of the nave. Jonas appeared annoyed at the slow pace of their exploration of the complex. Alex waited until another group of tourists filtered into the main hall and passed by them.
“Alex, any luck on San Procolo?” Clay rubbed the palms of his hands together.
“Follow me.”
Alex retraced his steps to the front of the church, squeezing through the oversized bronze doors, and back onto the stone porch. He quickly scampered down the short flight of stairs and walked backwards onto the grand piazza in front of the basilica. The bell tower loomed to the right of the basilica enclosed in a courtyard ringed by a wrought iron fence. Cyprus trees rose along the front of the courtyard but were dwarfed by the bell tower. As Alex’s eyes drifted along the course of the fence, he could see a smaller building bordering the courtyard.
“I think we found the Church of San Procolo,” Clay declared and patted Alex on the back.
They approached the smaller church. The façade of the Church of San Procolo was weathered with haphazardly alternating areas of exposed red stone and cream-colored tuff. There was a small narthex, which contrasted with the more elaborate narthex and porch of the nearby basilica. Two double mullioned windows flanked the stone archway that capped aged bronze doors. Above the archway was a window in the shape of an octagon. Unlike the Ruota della Fortuna on the façade of the basilica, the window on the Church of San Procolo was considerably less ornate and had only eight panes that symmetrically radiated out from a glass oculus in the center. Alex froze and stared at the window, prompting Clay to wring his hands with excitement.
“Yes, yes,” Clay muttered as Alex reached into the leather satchel slung over his shoulder, removed the metallic flower piece, and held it up in the air. It hovered next to the window. It bore an uncanny resemblance.
“It’s a sign, man!” Clay clapped happily, sending two cooing pigeons into flight and prompting a pedestrian to look their way.
Jonas unhappily grumbled at the attention garnered and scanned the piazza with concern. Clay lowered his voice, emitted a guilty smirk, and turned to Alex. “What do you think it means?”
“It’s hard to say. This window had eight panes like the eight petals on this metallic artifact.”
“Eight is an interesting number,” Ellie added. “There are some who believe that the number eight has mystical significance. The Star of Bethlehem after all had eight points radiating from the center. The three magi from the East spotted the star that heralded the birth of the baby Jesus. This, of course, prompted their trip to Jerusalem where they gave gifts to Jesus. Others see the number eight as a sign of infinity or everlasting life.”
“Let’s move on,” prompted Jonas as he edged Ellie towards the church.
“What is it?” Clay asked.
Jonas held his head down and lowered his voice. “We are being watched.”
Ellie could not resist casually glancing back at the piazza.
“…the man walking with the camera near the tree and bench. He’s trying to be inconspicuous. He was in the basilica with us, taking photos.”
“He’s probably just a tourist.” Ellie seemed unconvinced. The man wore a Hard Rock Café tee-shirt, jeans, and white sneakers. She watched over her shoulder as he backed further away from the basilica and aimed his camera up at its façade.
“I’m telling you, he’
s not right. His camera was trained on us too often in the basilica. What tourist brings a camera with a telephoto lens into a building like the basilica?”
Ellie was quiet and peered at Alex. “Are they here?”
“He could be just a scout collecting intel on us while awaiting their arrival,” Jonas surmised.
“Or maybe they’re already here and are just waiting for us to do all the work for them,” Alex said.
“Is it safe? Should we leave?” Ellie asked.
“Leave? When we are so close to solving the mystery?” Clay appeared appalled. “The only way is forward, my friends. The Polos never turned back. Neither will we.” Clay turned his back to them and walked by three stone pylons that prevented vehicle traffic from entering the piazza. As he approached the bronze doorway, he looked back impatiently. Jonas reached under his jacket with his right hand, instinctively patted the grip of his pistol, and sighed.
“You coming?” he asked Ellie and Alex before following Clay.
“What do you think?” Ellie squinted at Alex. He gripped the metallic artifact in his hand and looked at the octagon window. “The more I look at that window, the more it reminds me of something. It looks like a…”
“…a Greek cross,” Ellie finished.
“Exactly. The aesthetic of this style of window has been thought to have been brought back to Europe from Arabic architectural style during the Crusades.”
“From the East.”
“I think Clay may be wrong.” Alex pulled the strap of the satchel, bringing the bag against his chest, before slipping the artifact within it. He slid the satchel back until is rested against his right flank and began to walk towards the church. Ellie reached out and restrained his wrist.
“Wrong about what?”
Alex turned and looked into Ellie’s blue eyes. “Wrong about being so close to solving the mystery. Something tells me that this is just the beginning.”
“But the clues all seem to be directing us here. You said it yourself.”
“Yes…directing us…but where. To Verona? To Europe?”