Sign Of The Cross (31 page)

‘That might take a while.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Payne assured Boyd. ‘We bought ourselves some extra time at the airport.’

Lars knew his commander was expecting an update, but the truth was, he didn’t want to deal with him. At least not yet, not with such disappointing news.

At first he thought their mission was going to be simple, especially when they learned that Payne had used his credit card to buy four tickets to Geneva at the local train station. Unfortunately, while they were busy flagging down the angry conductor near Fribourg, they received a report that Jones and Boyd had both rented cars from an agency back in Bern. Confused, he ordered half his men back and told the others to continue their search of the train.

But that was only the beginning.

Before his men returned, Lars was informed that Maria Pelati had rented a limo to Zürich, and any attempts to contact her driver would be pointless, because of cellular interference in the Alps. Then he was told an American named Otto Buckner, a gentleman matching Payne’s description, had purchased eight pairs of tickets on eight different buses, and all of them were currently on the road and heading in opposite directions around Switzerland.

Of course what Lars didn’t know was that all of those purchases were false leads. The truth was that Payne and Jones had found their transportation in the long-term parking area at the Bern airport. They simply waited for a businessman to pull into the lot, then had Maria flirt with him to obtain his travel information. Once she discovered he was flying to Paris and would be gone for an entire week, Payne and Jones knew they could take his
BMW
to Küsendorf and wouldn’t have to worry about the car being reported stolen for days.

Dr Boyd managed to explain everything they needed to know: his discovery in Bath, his theories on Emperor Tiberius, and his translation of the scroll. Then, once he had answered all of their questions, Maria pointed out the mystery of the laughing man, described the statue on the roof of
Il Duomo
, and gave them some facts about Tiberius’s right-hand man, General Paccius.

Needless to say, their heads were swimming at the end of the session.

Just to be fair, though, they returned the favor by briefing them on their backgrounds, their deal with Manzak and Buckner, the cover-ups at the crime scenes, and everything else they could remember. By the time they finished, there were only two things that everyone was able to agree on. One, all of them were baffled. And two, if they had any hope of learning anything at the Ulster Archives, they needed to get some sleep.

Because tomorrow would be filled with even more excitement than today.

Nick Dial rented a hotel room a few blocks from the crime scene so he could walk to Fenway in the middle of the night if he felt the urge to reexamine the evidence. And the truth was, he probably would, since his body was still on European time. Or was it African time? Honestly, he didn’t know, since he’d passed through eight different time zones in the last day alone.

Dial checked his watch and decided he might be able to catch Cardinal Rose at the Vatican. They hadn’t spoken since Tuesday, and he was hoping Rose had found some additional information on Father Jansen. He already knew that Jansen was affiliated with the Pontifical Biblical Commission (
PBC
), though he didn’t know his exact role. Dial needed to know if Jansen was interning with a cardinal from Denmark or Finland, or if his position was more substantial.

The phone rang eight times before someone answered. ‘This is Cardinal Rose.’

‘Joe? This is Nick Dial at Interpol.’

‘Nick! I was wondering when you were going to get ahold of me. I left several messages.’

‘Sorry about that. It’s been a busy couple of days.’

‘
CNN
just reported that another body was found in Boston. Is that true?’

‘Very true. I just left Fenway Park.’

‘Was the victim another priest?’

‘Nope. This time it was a Pope.’

‘Excuse me?’

Dial clarified his statement. ‘The victim was Orlando Pope, a ballplayer for the Yankees.’

Rose took a few seconds to absorb the news. ‘That can’t be a coincidence.’

‘Probably not.’

‘Was there another note?’

Dial grinned. ‘Are you sure that you’re a cardinal? You sound more like a cop.’

‘Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. It’s just that I’m trying to get a clear picture. I figure, with my knowledge of the Vatican and your knowledge of the case, we might be able to help each other.’

‘Speaking of which, what did you learn about Father Jansen?’

‘Nothing useful, I’m afraid. I talked to all my friends on the
PBC
, and they were saddened by the loss. It seems Erik was one of the good ones, one of those people that everyone knew and liked. In fact, the more I learned about him, the more I regretted not knowing him.’

‘What about his job? Did you find out what he did?’

‘A little bit of everything. Part clerical, part researcher, part messenger. He was a jack-of-all-trades, just trying to learn the ropes.’

‘What about funny business? Sex, drugs, anything?’

Rose took a deep breath. ‘The kid was clean.’

Dial made a note to himself. ‘So this wasn’t about him. That’s what you’re telling me, right? Father Jansen was the victim, but it wasn’t about him.’

Rose nodded. ‘That would be my guess.’

‘What about the Vatican? Anything going on that I should know about?’

‘What are you implying? That
we
had something to do with it?’

Dial shook his head. ‘I’m not saying that at all. I’m just wondering if there’s anything going on that I should be aware of. Any scandals? Controversies? Bitter feuds? Give me some help, Joe. People are dying, and I don’t know why.’

Rose stayed quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke, he did so in a much softer voice. ‘All organizations – even the innocuous ones – have enemies. No matter what you do, whether it’s good or bad, someone’s bound to be offended. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but the truth is, the Catholic Church gets more threats than any organization in the world. It’s so bad we have a special staff whose sole job is to sort through our mail and separate the real threats from the fake ones.’

‘Is that so? What do they do with the real ones?’

‘I guess that depends on the threat. We have a first-rate security staff that would handle things on our grounds. Anything else would be turned over to the police.’

‘What type of threats are we talking about?’

‘Bombs, fires, assassinations. Everything that you’d expect. Then, of course, there are the whitecollar threats. Lawsuits seem to be popular these days. So does blackmail. You know, “Give me a million dollars, or I’ll tell the press that a priest molested my son.”’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘I wish I was, Nick. Unfortunately, that’s the world we live in today. What’s that expression? Money is the root of all evil… Whoever said that was a very wise man.’

Benito Pelati spent the night in his office, waiting for an update. Twenty years ago he would’ve been in Milan himself, doing the things that had earned him his reputation as one of the most feared men in Italy. Now he was relegated to the sidelines, stuck with Dante running things. Not that Dante wasn’t capable, for he was. Still, Benito would’ve preferred his presence in Vienna, working on the excavation that was so important to their cause.

When the call finally came, Benito was angry. He wasn’t one to tolerate inefficiency.

‘What took you so long? You were supposed to call me hours ago.’

Dante replied, ‘I would’ve if it wasn’t for
her
. Her involvement has complicated things.’

The comment stunned Benito. He wasn’t used to backtalk from anyone. ‘What are you talking about? Who’s involved?’

‘I’m staring at surveillance photos from the library, and
Maria
was there with Boyd. You know, I wondered why your guards in Orvieto waited so long to take him out.’

‘
Maria?
But why? Why would she risk everything that we hoped to achieve?’

‘
We?
She hasn’t been a part of
we
since you shipped her off to school. I don’t know when that’s going to sink in, but the sooner it does, the better we’ll be. Trust me, if we don’t get to her soon, she’s going to ruin everything you have planned. And she’ll love every minute of it.’

Benito stayed silent for several seconds. He was scheduled to meet with the Supreme Council later that day, and the last thing he needed was a distraction. He had worked too hard and waited too long to have his moment in the spotlight ruined by his insolent daughter. He was getting ready to drop the bomb of all bombs on the Vatican, and he needed to be focused.

He said, ‘Then you know what you need to do.’

Dante nodded, smiling. He’d been waiting for this day since Benito had sent her away.

The Ulster Archives sat nestled against an outcropping of rock, one that shielded the wooden fortress from the Alpine winds that roared through the region during the winter. Nut-brown timber, the color of surrounding trees, made up the bulk of the chalet’s framework and blended perfectly with the broad gables and deep overhangs of the reinforced roof. Square windows were cut into the front facade at regular intervals and were complemented by a triangular pane that had been carved under the structure’s crown. A large picture window ran vertically through the middle of the frame, giving people on the main staircase a spectacular view of the Alps.

‘That’s a library?’ Jones asked as they approached the gate. ‘It doesn’t look like one.’

‘That’s because it isn’t,’ Boyd said. ‘The goal of this facility is
not
to provide books but rather to bridge the ever-growing schism that exists between scholars and connoisseurs. As I’m sure you’re aware, several of the world’s finest treasures are hidden from public view, selfishly hoarded away by a prestigious minority. Did you know that the typical big-city museum displays only 15 percent of its accumulated artifacts? Which means most of the world’s historical wealth is currently sitting somewhere in crates.’

Payne whistled softly. ‘Eighty-five percent.’

‘Alas, that’s just the museums. If you factor in the billionaire collectors who have Monets hanging in their bathrooms, then I’m sure the overall percentage would be well over ninety. Thankfully, this institution is doing something about it. Since this building opened, the Ulster Foundation has promoted the radical concept of sharing. I know
sharing
doesn’t sound radical, but when you’re talking about priceless artifacts, it actually is.’

‘I’m not sure I follow,’ Payne admitted.

‘Let’s say you teach at Al Azhar University in Cairo. While authoring a book, you realize you’re lacking some critical information on the Nubian sites in Sudan – data that can be found in the Archives. So what do you do? Do you fly here empty-handed and use their books? Of course not. That would be selfish in the eyes of the Foundation. Instead, you loan them an artifact that other scholars might be interested in – perhaps a discovery that you made in Giza – and in return this institute will provide you access to the documents you requested.’

Jones nodded his approval. ‘Sharing… I like it.’

‘Well,’ Boyd argued, ‘you might not like it nearly as much in about ten minutes, because we have nothing to offer these people. Sure, we have the scroll, but I’m afraid this isn’t an appropriate time for its debut. There are still too many riddles to solve before we go public.’

‘What about your video?’ Payne suggested. ‘Would there be any harm in showing that?’

‘The video of the Catacombs?’ Boyd pondered the notion for several seconds. ‘Alas, I must admit that film is not my handiwork. Therefore, I must defer to young Miss Pelati. My dear, how does a premiere strike your fancy?’

A broad smile crossed her lips. ‘Since I haven’t had my fancy struck in quite some time, I confess the concept sounds exhilarating… Wouldn’t you agree, David?’

Jones glanced at her and winked. ‘Yes, Maria, I’m with you on that one.’

‘Outstanding!’ Boyd cheered, failing to pick up on the flirting. ‘Then let’s get to it. I can’t wait to see what we uncover.’

‘Me, neither,’ Jones mumbled to himself. ‘Me, neither.’

A team of armed security guards led the foursome across the wooded grounds and into the lobby of the chalet, where the director of the Archives was waiting to greet them. Petr Ulster, grandson to the institute’s patriarch, was a round man in his early forties with a thick brown beard that covered his multiple chins. Yet somehow he came across as boylike, mostly due to the twinkle in his eye and his enthusiasm for knowledge.

‘Hello,’ he said with a faint Swiss accent. ‘My name is Petr, and it is an honor to make your acquaintance. How is it I may help you?’

Under normal conditions, Dr Boyd would’ve taken charge, explaining who he was and what they were hoping to find. But his current standing as an international fugitive made that pretty impractical, so Payne took it upon himself to be the group leader.

‘It’s nice to meet you, Petr. My name is Jonathon Payne, and these are the members of my traveling party: D.J., Chuck, and Maria.’

Ulster shook hands with each. ‘And what type of excursion are you on?’

‘A confidential one.’ Payne nodded toward the guards. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’

‘Of course. Follow me.’

Ulster practically skipped down the hallway, leading them to his private office. Bookshelves filled with leather-bound first editions dominated the suite. The rest of the wooden walls were covered in framed photographs depicting colorful scenes from Switzerland and abroad.

‘I must admit,’ he said, ‘I’m particularly intrigued by your appearance. Most academics call ahead before visiting Küsendorf. Very rarely do they show up at the front door.’

Payne took a seat next to Ulster. ‘Sorry about that, but the truth is, I’m not a scholar.’

‘Oh? Then I’m doubly fascinated by your appearance. What in the world are you then?’