Adrian D'Hage - The Omega scroll

Giovanni nodded, smiling. He had come to enjoy their Friday night intellectual joustings.

‘A text that was passed on by word of mouth for thousands of years before it was even written down,’ Allegra added. ‘That sounds more like an excuse for the male hierarchy to use sex as a means of control, and a pretty powerful one.’

‘It has always had far more to do with maintaining the power of the priesthood than any logical theological basis and Luciani would have agreed with you,’ Giovanni responded, a touch of sadness in his voice. ‘He was a great loss, not only to the Church but to the world. We were talking about birth control in Venice one day and he told me he had just read a report that over a thousand children die every hour from malnutrition. He saw effective birth control as part of the solution and after he was elected he told me that at last he was in a position to do something about it. In the end I think his views on contraception, his decision to investigate the Vatican Bank and his discovery that the Vatican had bought the Omega Scroll all combined to sign his death warrant.’

‘You didn’t get more than a glance at the brief?’

Giovanni shook his head. ‘Knowing what I know now I should have gathered up the entire file. Petroni arrived very quickly.’

‘Very odd that he was fully dressed at that hour,’ Allegra agreed. ‘Why didn’t you try to recover the Omega Scroll? Why not go to the Press?’

‘As soon as I could I searched the Secret Archives but someone had clearly been there before me. I seriously thought about going public, but I think there is more chance of finding the Omega Scroll if I stay low for the moment. Without the Scroll the Vatican would simply deny it as a figment of my imagination and put it about that poor old Donelli’s become unhinged as a result of Luciani’s unfortunate heart attack.’

‘From what you’ve told me that’s the least they would do. What about Professor Fiorini, can’t you go to him?’

‘This is where it gets very murky. I went to see Rosselli after the lecture today. I only gave him the bare bones of what I’ve told you, that I thought the Omega Scroll existed, and he seemed quite upset. He wouldn’t say much, but he told me Professor Fiorini disappeared the day after he returned from Rome.’

‘Murdered?’

‘It’s the classic “Italian Solution” and if these people in the Vatican are as closely linked to the Mafia as I think they are, it’s quite possible. It won’t stop Rosselli speculating in his lectures, but I’m guessing he’s been warned not to take his investigation too far and deep down he’s more than a little frightened. He told me to be very careful.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘For the moment, nothing. Play our cards close to our chests. Eventually something will give, the truth always outs.’

Giovanni reached over and refilled Allegra’s glass.

As they walked back towards the university Giovanni linked his arm through Allegra’s. A little voice told Giovanni that this was wrong, but the chianti seemed to blur the insistent voice and he rationalised that he had met his soulmate. Had he been more honest he might have admitted that the feelings he had for this intelligent and beautiful nun had thrown him into turmoil.

‘What are you doing over the semester break? Will you go home?’

Allegra shook her head. ‘I can’t afford it. I guess I’ll stay here and wrestle with Mary Magdalene, 153 and what was it? Fish and cities falling out of the sky,’ she said, laughing.

It was Giovanni’s turn to shake his head. ‘ Quello non va! That won’t do at all. I am going home to see my folks – I’ve even been invited to say Mass. You must come too. My family said they would love to meet you.’

‘I couldn’t,’ Allegra said quickly, without quite knowing why.

‘Why not?’ Giovanni demanded.

‘Well, there is Professor Rosselli’s research,’ she responded lamely.

‘My, my! He has got you worried. I’ll tell you what. While we’re at home we’ll spend some time on the pros and cons of Christ and Mary Magdalene and we’ll write it up when we get back.’

‘That would be nice,’ she said, giving in to his logic. Allegra felt the warmth of Giovanni’s body and nearly put her head on his shoulder. Accettazione and testarda. Deep within, strange feelings were stirring. The voice of Catholicism was telling her that it was wrong to be this close to a man. Like Giovanni, she put it down to feelings of friendship for someone whose intellect, warmth and compassion she had come to admire deeply.

‘Do you know, I don’t think I’ve even asked you where you live.’

‘Used to live,’ he corrected her, ‘but I still call it home. It’s a little fishing town on the Gulf of Policastro. Maratea. Have you heard of it?’

‘No, but now I’m looking forward to visiting it very much.’

‘You will love it. Everyone is very friendly and the mountains look like they fall into the sea. It is the perfect escape for students.’

‘Mmmm,’ murmured Allegra dreamily, and without a thought to what she was doing, she rested her head on his shoulder.

Giovanni knew he had to change the subject before the voice in his head completely disappeared. ‘One day I would like to go to the Holy Land and see all of those places that are in the Bible and visit Qumran.’

Allegra lifted her head from his shoulder.

‘And we could find the Omega Scroll – and put an end to all of Rosselli’s assignments,’ she said and her eyes sparkled.

Without realising it, the quest for the missing Omega Scroll had begun and their lives would change for ever.

Maratea

G iovanni stopped his battered Fiat on Mount St Blaise overlooking Maratea. He and Allegra got out and walked up the stone steps to the very top of the mountain where a wealthy Maratean resident had erected a 22-metre-high statue of Christ, arms spread, watching over the little town of Maratea nestling on the side of the mountain below. They stood looking at the stunning view, a light breeze blowing Allegra’s hair.

‘Oh Giovanni, e bellissimo! ’

The Apennines tumbled into the Tyrrhenian Sea, forming a rocky coastline that stretched north and south as far as Allegra could see, the sharp jagged peaks finally fading into the clouds. Carob trees competed for space with pines, smaller oaks and olive trees. Nestled in each of the promontories were little inlets of emerald lapping at the rocks and sand, the water turning a deeper blue further out into the Gulf of Policastro. Below them, the road coiled down the mountain like a piece of curling spaghetti until it reached Maratea itself, and further down, the port of Maratea Marina. The bright blues, reds and oranges of the wooden fishing boats drawn up on the beach and moored behind the rocky breakwater added to the charm of the little port. This place was seemingly untouched by tourism and the pace of a more urgent world.

Allegra, conscious that once again she and Giovanni were standing very close together, closed her eyes. The sun felt warm on her face. Fleetingly she thought of her family back in the cold, misty hills of Tricarico. She missed them dreadfully and wrote regularly, but in her heart she knew that she could never go back. Allegra had come to realise that the Church and the little convent of San Domenico had put her in an intellectual and experiential straitjacket. Her faith was as strong as ever but she was starting to spread her wings. The Vatican’s control over Allegra was being eroded.

‘ E molto bellissimo, Giovanni. Really lovely.’

Giovanni smiled and let his arm rest around her shoulders. ‘I thought you’d like it,’ he whispered. ‘While we’re here we’ll borrow a boat and have a picnic on one of those little beaches down the coast.’