Dov stood up and turned his head toward the priest. The old man cupped his hand over Dov's ear and whispered.
Dov stiffened and gasped. "The Prologue of James is hidden there!
"Yes. You would never have expected it."
21
Michelle townsend walked up the path to their offices with her arms filled with books while her husband sauntered along behind her. An October morning in Rome always felt exhilarating, and she walked at a brisk clip.
"You trying to set a new record for the sprint," Jack asked.
"How can I answer a tortoise with the energy of a snail?" Michelle quipped.
Jack reached over and pinched her on the bottom. "That'll teach you to be smart with your husband."
Michelle giggled. "Maybe I should upgrade you a tad from a turtle status, but only a tad."
"Definitely." He shut the door behind them.
"Well, my, my," Dov Sharon said. "Here they are. The love birds from Texas, the Bobbsey Twins, Mr. He and She. At it again."
Jack set his briefcase down on the desk. "You have a way of getting here before the sun comes up, Dov. Seems to put you into gear."
"It's a little hard to dance all night when you walk up and down the stone stairs in the Vatican's hidden basement," Dov answered sarcastically. "Forces one to go to bed early. That will definitely get you up with the dawn."
"Let's sit in the conference room and discuss where we are this morning," Jack suggested.
"I think everyone needs an update."
Michelle watched Dov shuffle some papers together. Obviously, Jack didn't agree with her doubts about him. She'd have to admit he'd done an amazing job at the Vatican Library, but her skepticism lingered. If she was totally wrong, then nothing was harmed. On the other hand, if she were right and Dov was mixed up in the dark side, her concern would be significant. She simply couldn't dismiss her hesitation.
She carried her books into the conference room and set them on the old table. Jack opened his briefcase and pulled out a file. Last of all, Dov shuffled in and slowly slid into the chair at the end of the table.
"Let's review what we've found to date," Jack started the session. "What about the project to find the ending to Mark's Gospel. That's the main objective we're pursuing. Any progress on that front?"
Dov shook his head. "Not to date. I've wandered around down there in that dungeon of a library on the bottom floor, but all I've picked up is insignificant. The most important clue I've stumbled across is that a trail points toward a Laterani family. Apparently they were important in the first century and had a great deal to do with building the first church facility in Rome. Actually, the Vatican wasn't the site of the first edifice. San Giovanni in Laterano, or St. John of Lateran, is the most ancient church in Rome. I don't know where this path is going, but it's a good lead for us right now."
"I haven't found anything in the research that I've done on the writings of Clement of Rome at the end of the first century and Ignatius of Antioch at the start of the second century," Jack said. I've also studied Hermas of Rome in the same period. I don't find evidence that any of them dealt with the problem of the ending of Mark's Gospel. I'm still looking though." He turned to Michelle. "What's on your plate, kid?"
"The most important matter that I have to report is that I'm extremely happy with the work Guido Valentino has done. The man is amazing. I've never met anyone with a grasp of Roman history like he has. We have indeed found an important friend."
"You're right about that," Dov said. "Guido's a good scholar. He's going to be important for the future."
"Dov, what have you come up with in your quest for The Prologue of James?"
The telephone rang.
"I'll get it." Michelle jumped up and went back to the other room to answer the phone on her desk.
Dov rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It hasn't been easy," he began more seriously than usual. "I've talked with Father Donnello at great length and only our friendship has helped me get information. He gets edgy when we start talking about The Prologue, but I've made a breakthrough. I've waited to tell you the extraordinary news I have because it must be kept in the highest confidence. My discovery is for your ears only."
"Really?" Jack smiled. "Good job, Dov. I'm all ears. Do you have any clues about why they are hiding the parchment so tenaciously?"
Dov leaned closer and cupped his hand over his mouth, speaking more in a whisper than in his usual voice. "The document's existence destroys the idea that James and the other children were cousins of Jesus. If the document is true, it verifies they were all siblings. Right off the bat that's a blow to Roman Catholic doctrine. However, I'm getting the suggestion that some of what James wrote reconstructs the picture of Jesus that the Roman Church currently holds. I'm not sure what the document asserts, but it seems to raise entirely new issues."
"What do you think they might be?" Jack asked.
"Hard to say," Dov answered. "But put yourself in the position that James must have been in. No matter how you stack up the debate over cousins or brothers, James grew up with Jesus and must have watched his brother become an entirely different person than they would have expected. Consider the options. Did he consider Jesus a fanatic? a genius? deluded? maybe, just plain nuts? the long-expected messiah? What did he think?"
"We don't want to buy an idea that is blasphemy," Jack said. "We've got a great deal at stake here, too. Being a Jew, you're in a slightly different position, Dov."
"True, but it doesn't change the fact that there's something in that document that profoundly troubles the Roman Catholic Church. That's why they've kept it concealed under lock and key. I now know where it is hidden."
Jack's mouth dropped. "You're kidding me!"
"Nope. Father Donnello leveled with me."
Michelle came briskly back into the room. "No big deal on the phone. I was going to tell you that I've been trying to see what's behind Teaching of the Twelve Apostles that dates from A.D. 130 to 160. and trying to find any clues hidden there," Michelle said. "No luck so far, but I have one thing I want to show you." She turned to her pile of books. "Oh, gosh! I left it in my briefcase in the car. I'll run out and get it." She stood up. "I'll be right back."
Hurrying through the kitchen and out the back door, Michelle rushed to their car parked in the reserved space. Her briefcase should be in the back seat. Picking up the armload of books had distracted her, but then again, she couldn't have carried everything at once. Halfway down the path, she wondered if she put the briefcase in the car or might have left it at home. Could be either.
Her body suddenly left the ground followed by a roar engulfing her with a terrifying boom that shook every bone in her body. When she hit the grass, Michelle bounced, catching a glimpse of a piece of wooden siding flying passed followed by a shower of broken glass. She came up on her hands and knees but a hunk of something dark careened toward her face. Michelle tried to block it, but felt it catching the top of her head and sending her flying backward. Everything blanked out.
Voices seemed to be drifting in from somewhere. She tried to open her eyes but found it difficult to focus. Noise increased, and she heard men running somewhere out there in front of her. No matter how hard she pushed, it seemed impossible to get off the ground.
"There's a person over here!" A man yelled in Italian. "Over here in the grass."
Michelle kept blinking, and shapes became more defined. Wherever she looked, splintered pieces of boards were scattered on the yard. Only then did she look at their offices. She looked again. Pieces of the roof were gone and the walls at the kitchen entrance had cratered inward. Entire sections of the wall were ripped away. It looked like a volcano had erupted through the floor. Michelle kept blinking, unable to grasp what she was seeing.
"Here she is!" a familiar voice yelled. "My God! Get a stretcher over here!"
Father Donald Blake leaped over the broken pieces of wood on the ground, rushing toward her. The heavyset priest appeared to be flying through th
e air. She still couldn't grasp what he was about.
Father Blake dropped on his knees beside her. "Oh, you poor dear. How badly are you hurt?"
"I-I don't know," Michelle mumbled. "W-what's happened?"
"You're bleeding from the top of your head," Blake said. "We've got to get you in an ambulance."
Michelle got a tight grip on his coat sleeve. "Tell me what's happened."
"An explosion went off under your offices," Father Blake said. "Apparently, you weren't inside."
"Inside?" Michelle mumbled slowly. "Heaven help us! Jack was in there."
"You're sure?" Father Blake pressed.
"Yes, and our assistant Dov Sharon. Both men were . . ."
Father Blake stood up. "There are two more inside," he shouted at the top of his voice. "Somebody get in there and see where they are! Get me a stretcher over here."
"J-Jack was in there," Michelle mumbled, finding it difficult to talk. "You've got to find him." She pulled frantically on the priest's arm. "Understand? We've got to get him out."
"We will. Don't worry. We will."
Oh, my poor husband," Michelle groaned. "Lord help him. "Everything around her began to shift and swirl. Michelle felt nauseated and her stomach wrenched. A white glaze began descending over the pile of debris and the men running around the smashed house. The whiteness increased, and she couldn't sit up any longer. Grass pressed against her face and suddenly everything disappeared.
22
When a bright ray of sunlight fell across Michelle's face, she awoke but nothing made any sense. She pulled her arm over her eyes to shield them from the brightness and only then realized she was in a strange bed. Rising slightly, she stared at the face that didn't seem to fit.
"It's me," the man said. "Donald Blake."
The man's features slowly took a familiar shape. "F-Father Blake," she stammered. "Where am I?"
"Your in the hospital, my dear. You've been unconscious for several hours."
Michelle lay back down. "The hospital? What am I doing in a hospital?"
"You got hit in the head and received a concussion when the house exploded. They stitched your head, but you've been unconscious for some time."
"Concussion?" The idea didn't make any sense. "What house?"
"Your offices," Father Blake said. "Don't you remember any of what occurred?"
"I remember leaving to go to my car, but nothing more."
"A bomb went off underneath your building," Father Blake said. "Did you have any idea or warning the explosion was coming?"
"A bomb?" Michelle struggled to grasp what the priest was saying. "A bomb?"
"Caught you by complete surprise?"
Michelle pushed herself up and stared at the man. Nothing was making any sense. She didn't know what to say.
"OK," Blake said. "I think I have your answer."
"You're here?" Michelle said. "Where is Jack?"
"Jack was in the house," Blake's voice sounded grave. "I came here with you in the ambulance."
Michelle lay back down and tried to think. Jack should be here with her. Why hadn't he come in the ambulance. Maybe he and Dov were still talking. Busy. Yes. Preoccupied.
"They were having a conference," she said. "He and Dov. "We were talking . . ."
"Yes," Father Blake leaned forward.
Everything felt too heavy. She could feel her eyelids fluttering as if they were independent of her control. Michelle couldn't finish the sentence. That was the last thing she remembered.
23
The firemen worked back and forth in the wreckage trying to make sure the ruins of the old house didn't erupt into flames. While there had been some charred wood, only smoke still curled up out of the wreckage. A crowd of people from the neighboring office buildings and houses had gathered and stood next to the church staring at the pile of smoldering rubble.
Tony Mattei pushed his way through the crowd to the front. For a moment the diamond merchant watched the workers throwing broken lumber into piles. The police were guarding the perimeters and holding the crowd back. The situation looked grave.
"Officer! Mattei called out and beckoned with his hand.
A policeman looked at him and strolled over. "Ciao."
"I am a close friend of the Townsends who have an office in that building. Can you tell me what happened?"
"You knew the residents?" The policeman said.
"Quite well. I am their personal friend."
"Come with me." The policeman led him out of the crowd over to a small command station that had been set up near the back of the church. "I want you to speak with my supervisor and give him any information you have."
"Certainly," Tony Mattei said.
"This man knows the Townsends," the officer said to a skinny inspector in a worn sport coat making notes on a small pad. "He might be able to report something. Please meet Alfredo Pino."
"How many people were in there?" the detective immediately barked.
"I don't know," Mattei said. "Usually three people worked in those offices."
"Three? Hmm. We've found three so far."
"Probably got 'em all," Tony said. "Did anybody survive?"
"Don't know yet," Pino said. "Took two away in ambulances, but I didn't see them. Can't tell if everyone survived."
Mattei held his arms in the air in a helpless gesture of consternation. "What happened?"
"We believe a plastic explosive device was placed under the house," the inspector said. "At least that's my hunch at the moment. We'll know more later."
Tony Mattei nodded. "Doesn't look like anybody could have survived."
"Best we can tell a table fell over on one person and shielded him from the direct blast. Another guy apparently was standing over the spot in the kitchen where the bomb was planted. I'm sure he's gone."
"Terrible, terrible," Tony muttered.
Another man came out of the crowd and walked straight toward the detective without speaking to the policeman. When the cop reached for him, the man glared furiously and the policeman let go. The intruder kept walking.
"I am Dr. Albert Stein," he said forcefully. "I'm an associate of the Townsends. We work on the same projects and do research together. I am sure they will be concerned that their investigations not be destroyed in the blast. Since I am an anthropologist, I would be delighted to help recover any material scattered in the ruins."
Tony studied the professor with the arrogant look on his face. His appearance looked foreboding.
"At the moment, we're attempting to make sure a fire doesn't break out," the detective said. "We'll need to make certain there are no other explosives planted in or around the building. Once we're certain, we'll be ready for a salvage operation. Perhaps, you can help with that. Of course, it will be tomorrow before we know for certain."
Stein nodded perfunctorily. "I see. Yes. It's best to return tomorrow?"
"That would be my suggestion," Pino said.
"I'll be back," Stein said and turned away.
Tony Mattei watched the man walk back toward the crowd. Stein remained unintimidated by the police.
24
By the time Michelle awoke, night had returned with the darkness feeling far more soothing than the early morning bright sunlight. For several minutes, she stared at the ceiling and tried to make sense out of what had happened but only drew a blank. She stirred and felt a sharp pain race through the top of her head.
Carefully touching the top of her scalp, Michelle felt bandages running over the crown of her head covering a throbbing ache. For the first time, she realized that with each beat of her heart, another sensation of pain surged through her body. Glancing around the room, she appeared to be in a hospital. A strange place indeed.
Scooting up in the bed, she found a button and pushed it. A soft, gentle light appeared from behind her head. Yes, she was definitely in a hospital room. She glanced at a digital clock fastened to the wall. It said 8:00 p.m. How could it be night? It had just been morning when she lef
t for the office?
Michelle felt up and down her side, which felt like it was covered by a huge bruise running the length of her body. Could she have been in a car wreck? Maybe she had been coming to work and got blindsided. But why would she have been driving by herself? That didn't make any sense. Jack was always with her. Where was Jack?
Michelle laid back on the pillow. Where had Jack gone? Jack should be there with her, but she couldn't remember when she had seen him last. Her memory seemed to have turned to mush.
But something had happened. Something she couldn't quite remember. Something that lay just beyond the tips of her fingers. Something . . . something . . .
She took a deep breath. Somewhere along the way she had heard the word "concussion" and obviously had been hit on the head. A blow of some kind had knocked everything out of her, leaving her feeling numb, disconnected, emotionally flat. Nothing made any sense, but she had no idea what was missing.
Missing? Yes, that was the word that described her condition. Missing! Some important piece of the day had disappeared, vanished like fog in the morning. Still missing . . .
The door to the room cracked slightly, and she caught sight of an eye peering in.
"Yes?" Michelle said.
"Are you awake?" a man's voice ask.
"Yes. Come in."
To her surprise Guido Valentino walked in holding a small vase with flowers. "I wanted to make sure you were awake before I disturbed you. Please tell me if you need quiet and I can leave immediately."
"Guido!" Michelle felt relieved that she recognized him. "Thank you for coming to see me."
"I thought maybe the flowers would cheer you." Guido set the vase on the bed stand. "They tell me you've been unconscious all day."
"I guess I have. You're the first person I've seen. Thank you for the flowers. They help. I can't remember anything except going to work early this morning."
Guido nodded and rubbed his chin. "I see. So, you know nothing of what has happened today?"
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