Jeffrey Siger - An Aegean Prophecy

‘What did you find?’

‘May I see the other photograph again?’

Andreas handed it to him.

The Protos bobbed his head through a face-by-face comparison of the photographs. ‘Yes, just as I thought. The faces superimposed on the abbots of the twenty monasteries attending my ceremony are of monks from those same abbots’ monasteries. But, with the exception of three who have succeeded to a position of abbot, none of the others holds any significant hierarchical position in his monastery.’

‘What about the three new abbots? Were they important before in their monasteries?’

The Protos paused. ‘No.’

‘Then how did they become abbots?’

‘The monks in their monasteries elected them.’

‘Weren’t you surprised?’

He nodded. ‘As a matter of fact, yes. Our abbots are elected to serve for life, and there seemed so many more qualified, seasoned candidates available.’ He shrugged. ‘But such is the way of democracy.’

‘How did the three they replaced die?’

‘Die? Oh no, only one died.’ He spoke as if Andreas were implying they’d been murdered. ‘And he was very old. Another moved on to a different monastery away from Mount Athos, and the third… uhh… resigned.’

Andreas knew from the newspapers about the third one’s resignation. He was the abbot caught up in the scandal that haunted Vassilis. ‘Can you think of any reason why these twenty-one men are in this photograph?’ He pointed to the doctored photo.

‘I only recognize twenty faces. And I have no idea why they appear.’

Andreas asked for the names and monasteries linked to the superimposed faces, and took great care to write them down — so as not to make completely obvious that he was recording their conversation.

‘Which face don’t you recognize?’

He looked grim. ‘The face replacing mine.’ He pointed to a blurred image. ‘It looks familiar but I can’t quite make it out. Do you have a better copy?’

‘No, it’s exactly as it appeared on the drive.’

‘Knowing Vassilis, I’m surprised he’d have made such a significant mistake.’

‘Maybe it was meant to be that way?’

The Protos shrugged. ‘Perhaps.’

‘What do you make of the empty chairs and the carpet?’

The Protos picked up the glass and looked again at the photograph. ‘Not much, they seem the typical gold tone and red velvet chairs so favored by our monks. It’s a style you see in almost every abbot’s office.’

‘And the carpet?’

He shrugged. ‘Again, a patterned oriental of a type I see everywhere.’

Andreas reached into the envelope. ‘There was something else on the drive.’ He handed him the note. ‘What do you think this means?’

The Protos read it quickly, then read it again much more slowly. He picked up the doctored photograph and magnifying glass. Andreas noticed the glass start to shake, then the photo. At first ever so slightly ‘My God.’ The Protos crossed himself three times, apparently not realizing he was holding the glass in his hand as he did. He held up the photograph to Andreas. ‘The chairs, the twenty-four chairs. Saint John saw twenty-four elders in twenty-four chairs immediately after the beginning of his vision. Their meaning is a source of rich debate, but in this photograph I have no doubt what Vassilis is trying to tell me.’ He waved the photograph at Andreas.

‘This symbolizes the twenty-four survivors of Armageddon who will represent the church’s resurrected faithful when the Kingdom of Heaven has come. I’m not saying that is Vassilis’ view, but it’s the message he’s passing me through symbols from Revelation he knew I’d recognize.’ He paused. ‘And he sees them in the presence of great evil.’

‘Okay, now you’ve completely lost me.’ Andreas felt a bit like a kid caught unprepared for Sunday school.

The Protos’ expression did not change. ‘Every symbol, every word, and certainly every number in Revelation has spawned endless interpretations, many with significant distinctions having little in common with each other. “The pearly gates,” “streets of gold,” “harps in heaven,” “seven seals,” and, of course, “666” are just some of them. But that is the way of apocalyptic writing. It is highly symbolic and can be made to serve many purposes, some good, others not.’

There was a subtle change to the Protos’ voice; he was sounding more and more like a teacher. ‘Perhaps it would be helpful, my son, to give you what many call “the bottom line.” Without the additional chairs, there are three rows of seven men in seven chairs. There are a lot of sevens in Revelation. Indeed, the very Book of Revelation is written as a message to seven churches. My guess is that Vassilis added three abbot-style chairs to a picture of twenty one to take attention off the distracting number seven, and put it on the number twenty four which, to someone familiar with Revelation,’ he smiled at Andreas, ‘could only mean the twenty-four elders.’

‘Okay, but-’

The Protos held up his hand. ‘I know, I’m still going too fast. For some, the twenty-four represent the leadership of the church that will emerge after the coming of our Lord.’

After all hell’s broken loose as I recall, thought Andreas.

‘That was not his thinking, but I’m sure Vassilis replaced the faces and added the chairs to make clear to me when I read “the time is in their hands” that the men in the photo are seeking to change the church.’

Andreas let out a breath. ‘Okay, let’s assume you’re right about what Vassilis was trying to tell you, and that he’s right about the monks in the photo wanting to be the new leaders of the church, I still don’t see how any of that makes any of them “evil.” At most it sounds like they may be out of step with prevailing church politics.’

The Protos shook his head. ‘This is not a question of politics. And I’m not saying the men in that photograph are “evil,” nor did Vassilis. What I said is, “He sees them in the presence of great evil.”’

‘I’m sorry, Your Holiness, I need another “bottom line” moment here.’

The Protos pointed to the carpet in front of the image that replaced his own. ‘If you look closely at the carpet you can make out a pattern. It took me a moment to recognize it, but once I did I immediately realized that the face replacing mine wasn’t from a photograph, it’s from a famous painting.’ He let out a breath and put down the glass. ‘The carpet pattern is of a dragon, and both the dragon and the blurred image represent the same thing.’ He crossed himself. ‘Satan.’ He crossed himself again.

Andreas just stared at the photograph. This was turning into one of those days he wished he’d become anything but a cop. How do you tell this man, respectfully, to come back to the real world so we can solve a real world crime?

‘Okay, I hear you, Your Holiness, but what flesh and blood proof is there for any of this?’

The Protos looked up and stared into Andreas’ eyes. ‘My son, Vassilis is dead.’

‘I haven’t felt that stupid in a long time.’ And on that note, Andreas finished describing his meeting to Kouros.

‘Yeah, I guess, “Vassilis is dead,” was sort of the obvious answer to your question.’

‘Sort of? I felt as if I were back in elementary school getting taken apart by a teacher.’

Kouros kept his eyes on the road. ‘Just trying to make you feel better.’

Andreas smiled. ‘Thanks, but it’s not working.’

‘So, where do we go from here?’

‘The Protos has gone back to Mount Athos, promising if anything else comes to mind he’ll let me know. As for where we go, it’s back to the office and the sexy side of police work.’