Julia Navarro - The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud

"That's not an answer."

"Well, it's all you're going to get." And with that he hung up.

Ana slammed the phone down on her end, too, just to make herself feel better. She looked at the pile of papers lying on her desk, alongside more than a dozen books, all on the Shroud of Turin. She had been reading about the shroud for days. Esoteric treatises, religious books, histories… She knew the key lay somewhere in the object's long history. Marco Valoni had said as much: There had been nothing remarkable about the Turin Cathedral until the shroud was installed there. The incidents weren't new-and therefore neither was the motive for them. She was sure of it.

The hell with Santiago. She made a decision: Once she'd gone as deep as she could into the history of the shroud and traced it back as far as was possible, she'd put in for some vacation time and go to Turin. It was a city she'd never particularly liked; she'd never have chosen it as a holiday destination, but that's where the story was-a story she was more determined than ever to write.

Marco had called the meeting for immediately after lunch. It hadn't been easy to convince the necessary ministers, but he had at last been given full clearance to mount the Trojan horse operation his way, with no interference and with additional resources at his command. They were authorized to turn the mute loose and trail him to Timbuktu if he took them there. Now he wanted to brief the team on the details.

Sofia was the last to arrive. Marco couldn't put his finger on it, but he had found her different somehow on her return to Rome from Turin. As stunning as always, but changed in some subtle way.

"Okay, the plan is simple," he began. "You all know that every month the parole board makes the rounds to all the various prisons and jails. On the board there's a judge and a state attorney, psychologists and social workers, and the warden of each installation. They visit all the prisoners, especially those who are approaching the end of their sentences, have demonstrated good behavior, and may have earned some consideration for early out. Tomorrow I'll be in Turin to meet with the board members. I'm going to ask them to mount a little charade."

Everyone listened attentively as he continued.

"I want them to help us gauge the mute's reactions if possible and to also start acclimating him to the idea of release. When they're in Turin next, they'll visit him and talk about him among themselves, the way they always have, thinking he doesn't understand them. Only this time I'll ask the social worker and the psychologist to let it drop that they don't see much sense in keeping him behind bars any longer-his behavior has been exemplary, he poses no threat to society, and, according to the law, he's eligible for parole. The warden will make some objection, and they'll leave. We'll have variations on that played out over the next couple of months, until they finally let him loose."

"Will they cooperate?" Pietro asked.

"The ministers are relaying instructions to the relevant department heads. I don't think anyone will object; when it comes right down to it, they're not turning loose some murderer or terrorist, just a nickel-and-dime thief."

"It's a good plan," Minerva said.

'Absolutely," seconded Giuseppe.

"I've got more. Sofia, you'll like this. Lisa, John Barry's wife, called me. Lisa's sister is a woman named Mary Stuart-who just happens to be married to James Stuart. And James Stuart, in case you didn't know, is one of the wealthiest men in the world. Friend of the President of the United States and heads of state of half the countries in the world-the rich countries, that is- chairmen and CEOs of major international corporations, and most of the bankers on the planet. The Stuarts* daughter, Gina, is an archaeologist, like Lisa, and is spending some time in Rome, in her aunt's house; she's also working on the financing for the excavation at Herculaneum. So here's the deal: Mary and James Stuart are coming to Rome in two weeks. Lisa is going to throw a dinner party for them, with a lot of their prominent Italian friends in attendance. And among those friends is your friend Umberto D'Alaqua." Marco nodded at Sofia. "Paola and I are going, and I'm hoping that John and Mary will kindly let me take you, too, Dottoressa Galloni."

Sofia's face lit up, her pleasure obvious. "That's one way to get us closer to this guy," she said wryly. "Probably the only way."

After the meeting, she and Marco chatted for a few minutes.

"I remember Lisa, of course," she said to him. "I wouldn't have thought that a woman like her would have a sister married to a business mogul."

"It's not really that much of a stretch. Their father was a medieval-history professor at Oxford, and they both followed pretty much in his footsteps. Mary studied medieval history just like him; Lisa went into archaeology. Lisa got a fellowship to do her Ph.D. in Italy, and while they remained close, Mary's life took another direction. She went to work at Sotheby's as an expert in medieval art and began to mix with a more rarefied set of people, among them her future husband, James Stuart. They met, fell in love, and got married, and while they lead very different lives than Lisa and John, they apparently are genuinely happy, from what Lisa has to say. Mary prefers high society; Lisa worked hard to make a name for herself in academia. Her sister supports her, as she does her daughter, Gina, by underwriting excavations from time to time."

"Well, we're lucky that you're friends with John."

"Yes, they're both really wonderful people. John is the only American I know with zero interest in making tons of money, and they both really love it here. He resists being transferred anywhere else, and I imagine the Stuarts' influence can't hurt with the embassy."

"You think they'll let you take me to the party?"

"I'm going to ask. D'Alaqua made an impression on you, didn't he?"

"I have to say he did, Marco. Of course, he's one of those larger-than-life personalities that any woman could fall in love with."

"Which is not, I hope, your case."

"No? Why not?"

"Sofia, for heaven's sake, you can't get mixed up with somebody we're investigating, and you shouldn't get mixed up with this guy at all-rich, never married, clearly not looking for the woman of his life…"

"Marco, please. I hope you know my feet are planted firmly on the ground, and there's not a thing- or man-in the world that could change that. Nor is D'Alaqua exactly in my league, for that matter. So not to worry"

"I'm going to ask you a personal question. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell me to screw myself. What's going on with Pietro?"

"You don't have to go screw yourself, boss. I'll tell you the truth: It's over. It was going nowhere."

"How does he feel about it?"

"We're having dinner tonight, to talk. But he's not stupid-he knows. I think he feels the same way, honestly."

"I'm glad."

"Glad? How come?"

"Because Pietro's not the right one for you. He's a nice guy, with a great wife who'll be immensely happy to get her husband back. And you, Sofia, one of these days ought to get out of here and start a new career, with other people, other ways of looking at the world. Frankly, the Art Crimes Department is small potatoes for you."

"Marco! Don't say that! Are you trying to tell me something? Don't you know how happy I am here? I don't want to leave; I don't want to change a thing!"

"You know I'm right. But put it on a back burner if it's too much to think about right now. I'm happy to have you as long as you want to stay."

"Your house?" Pietro asked Sofia as they left work later that day.

"No, let's go to a restaurant."

Pietro took her to a small tavern in Trastevere, the same place they'd gone the first time, when their relationship began. It had been a long while since they'd been back. They ordered dinner and talked about small things, putting off the moment when they had to face each other.