Julia Navarro - The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud

"HAVE A BAD NIGHT?" GIUSEPPE ASKED ANA, who was absentmindedly chewing on a croissant in the hotel's dining room.

"Morning. Yes, I had a terrible night, thanks. Where's Dottoressa Galloni?"

"I'm sure she'll be down any minute. Have you seen my boss?"

"No, I just got here."

Giuseppe looked around the room. The tables were all occupied. "Mind if I sit and have cofFee with you?" he asked the reporter.

"Of course not! How's the investigation going?"

"Slow. How about you?"

"I've become a history student. I've read dozens of books, spent hours online, but I'll tell you, last night I learned more listening to Sofia than from all of that combined."

"Yeah, Sofia explains things so well, you can see them. I've had that same experience with her. So, any theories yet?"

"Nothing solid, and today my head feels like jelly. I had nightmares all night."

"Must have a guilty conscience."

"What?"

"That's what my mother used to say to me when I woke up from a bad dream. She'd ask me, 'Giuseppe, what did you do today that you shouldn't have?' She said that nightmares were a warning from your conscience."

"Well, I don't remember doing anything yesterday that would bother my conscience. Certainly nothing to merit these nightmares. Are you just a cop, or are you a historian too?"

"Just a cop, which is enough. But I'm lucky to work in Art Crimes-I've learned a lot these years working with Marco."

"I can tell you all worship him."

"Yep. Your brother must have told you about him."

"Santiago has tremendous respect for him, and I like him too. I've been to dinner at his house, and I've seen him a few other times."

Sofia entered the dining room and spotted them.

"What's wrong, Ana?" she asked as she pulled out a chair.

"I guess I look like hell if you can see it from across the room! Is it so obvious I had a rough night?"

"You look like you've been to war."

"Ha! I was in the middle of a battle, in fact, and I saw children hacked to pieces, their mothers raped-I even smelled the black smoke from fires burning all over the city. It was awful."

"I can see that."

"Sofia, I know I'm probably pushing my luck, but if you have a minute free today and wouldn't mind, could we talk again?"

"I don't know when, but sure, we can talk."

Marco came in, reading a note, and walked over to the table.

"Good morning, all. Sofia, I have a message here from Padre Charny. Bolard is expecting us ten minutes from now in the cathedral."

"Who's Padre Charny?" Ana asked.

"You just had dinner with him. The dashing Padre Yves de Charny," Sofia answered.

"Don't be such a snoop, Ana," Marco added.

"It's my nature," the reporter replied with a smile, then winced and pressed her hand to her head.

Marco clearly wasn't interested in lingering. 'All right, let's get going-everybody knows what they're supposed to be doing. Giuseppe, you-"

"Yeah, I'm on it. I'll call you."

"Let's go, Sofia. If we hurry we can still get there on time. Ana, have a nice day."

"I'll try."

On the way to the cathedral Marco asked Sofia about Ana Jimenez.

"What does she know?"

"I don't know. She seems like she's kind of floundering around, but I have a feeling she's got more than she lets on, and she's smart. She asks question after question after question, but she doesn't show her cards, you know? You'd think she didn't have anything, but I'm not so sure."

"She's young."

"But sharp."

"Good for her. I spoke to Europol-they're going to give us a hand. They'll start by securing the borders- airport, customs, train stations-at the right time. No one will get through without careful scrutiny. When we're finished with Bolard this morning, we'll go to carabinieri headquarters; I want you to see the plan that Giuseppe has been organizing. We won't have many men, but I hope there'll be enough. Not that it should be too hard to tail a guy who can't talk."

"How do you think he'll get in touch with his people when he gets out?"

"I don't know, but if he does in fact belong to some organization, he'll have a contact address, someplace to go to-he'll have to go somewhere. Trojan Horse will get us there, don't you worry. You'll stay at headquarters to coordinate the operation."

"Me? Oh no, I want to be out in the street."

"I have no idea what we're going to run into, and you're not a cop. I can't see you racing through the streets of Turin if he takes off."

"You don't know me-I can work a tail," Sofia protested, smiling as she lapsed into "cop talk."

"Somebody has to stay at headquarters, and you're the best person to anchor us there. We'll all stay in touch with you with walkie-talkies. John Barry has talked his colleagues at the CIA into lending us some micro-cameras and other equipment-unofficially-so we can photograph the mute and track him wherever he goes. You'll pick up the signal at headquarters-it'll be just like you're on the street. Giuseppe has made arrangements with the warden to get us the mute's shoes."

"You're going to put a tracking chip in them?" "Yes. Or try to. The problem is that all he has is tennis shoes, and it's hard to get a device in them, but the guys from the CIA will help us out with that."

"Did the court permission for the operation come through yet?"

"I should have it tomorrow at the latest." They arrived at the cathedral. Padre Yves was waiting for them, to take them to the large room in which Bolard and the committee of scientists were examining the shroud. He left Sofia and Marco with them and excused himself, saying he had work that wouldn't wait.

Balduino had dressed in his finest robes. De Molesmes had counseled that he alert no one to the visit he was about to make to the bishop. He had also personally chosen the soldiers who would accompany Balduino as well as those who would surround the Church of St. Mary of Blachernae.

The plan was simple. When night fell, the emperor would present himself at the bishop's palace. He would politely request that the bishop turn over the Mandylion; if the bishop did not do so willingly, then the soldiers would enter the Church of St. Mary of Blachernae and take the shroud by force, if need be.

De Molesmes had finally convinced Balduino not to be daunted by the bishop or his power. The giant Vlad, a man from the lands to the north, would also accompany the emperor. His mental faculties were not strong, and he would follow without hesitation any order he was given-qualities that would be useful if it became necessary to bring additional pressure on the churchman.

Darkness had covered the city, and the only sign of life in its houses and palaces was the yellowish light of oil lamps. A pounding was heard on the gate of the bishop's palace. The servant who hurried to open it stepped back in surprise when he found himself face-to-face with the emperor.

The bishop's guards rushed to the gate at the servant's shout. Seigneur de Molesmes ordered them to kneel before the emperor.

The imperial party strode purposefully into the palace despite Balduino's rising terror. The resoluteness of his chancellor was all that prevented him from fleeing in panic from the interview that was to come. The soldiers of the imperial guard took up positions around the lower floors as the emperor and the chancellor ascended the stairs with Vlad.

The bishop had been savoring a glass of Cypriot wine as he reviewed a secret letter that had arrived that day from Pope Innocent. He opened the door of his apartment, alarmed by the noise that reached him from the stairway, and was rendered speechless as Balduino, Pascal de Molesmes, and the giant confronted him.

"What is this! What are you doing here-" the bishop exclaimed.