Robin Cook - Seizure

Stephanie leaned away from Daniel so she could see up into his face. “Why would someone be looking for that?”

“Beats me. It’s just the only thing we have that’s unique.”

“But presumably the only person who knows we have it is the man who gave it to us.” Stephanie’s brows were knitted together as if she was troubled anew.

“Calm down! I don’t think anyone was looking for the shroud sample. I was just thinking out loud. But as long as we are talking about it, where is it?”

“It’s still in my shoulder bag,” Stephanie said.

“Get it! Let’s have another look!” Daniel thought it best to steer the subject away from a possible intruder.

They retreated back to the middle of the room. Stephanie picked up her bag from where she’d tossed it on the bed. She took out the silver case and opened it. Daniel gingerly lifted out the glassine envelope and held it up to the diffused light coming from the windows. Backlit, the mat of linen fibers was distinct, although its color was still indeterminate. “My gosh!” Daniel said with a shake of his head. “It is truly amazing to think that there is even the slightest chance this contains the blood of arguably the most famous person to have trod this Earth, and that’s not even addressing the divine aspect.”

Stephanie put the silver case down on the desk and took the envelope. Stepping over to the window, she too held it up to the light. Shielding the slanting rays of the sun from her eyes with her free hand, she used the pale but direct white light to examine the envelope. Now even the fibers’ red ocher color could be appreciated. “It looks like blood,” she said. “You know, it must be my Catholic background mysteriously reasserting itself, because I have a strong intuition it is the blood of Jesus Christ.”

Although Father Michael Maloney could not see Stephanie D’Agostino, he was so close he could hear her breathe. He was terrified his own heartbeat pounding in his temples would give him away or, if not that, then the sound of drops of perspiration dripping from his face and falling to splatter against the floor. She was mere inches away.

In utter desperation when he’d heard the key thrust into the door, he’d dashed behind the drapes. It had been a reflex act. In retrospect, going behind the curtains was an embarrassment in and of itself, as if he were some common thief. He should have stood his ground, accepted his fate at being caught, and taken full responsibility for his actions. He understood the best defense was an offense, and in the present situation, to justify his actions he should have used his indignation about these people’s true identities and the upcoming unauthorized testing of the shroud that they were obviously planning.

Unfortunately, his fight-or-flight reaction had been overwhelming, particularly on the flight side, such that when he’d come to his senses he was already hiding, and once hiding, it was too late to play the indignation card. Now all he could do was hope and pray he’d not be discovered.

At first he thought all was lost with Stephanie’s exclamation the moment the door opened. He imagined that he’d either been seen or at the very least the curtain’s movement had been apparent. It had been a relief beyond words when he realized it had been the flower arrangement that had caught her attention.

Then he had to endure Stephanie’s discovery of his ineptness at searching her suitcase and the fact that he’d taken her key from the desk. That was when his pulse began to rise again after having slowed a degree from the initial shock. He feared she would start searching the room, which would mean he’d be immediately discovered. The embarrassment and consequences of such an event were too horrible to contemplate. What had begun as a way of ensuring his future career was now threatening to have the absolute opposite effect.

“What we think about the shroud is not important,” Daniel said. “It’s just what Butler thinks that matters.”

“I’m not sure I agree with you entirely,” Stephanie responded. “But that’s a discussion for another day.”

Michael stiffened as Stephanie brushed against the drapes. Thankfully, they were heavy Italian brocade, and she apparently did not notice that she had also touched Michael’s arm through the fabric. Another adrenaline rush coursed through Michael’s body, resulting in more perspiration. To him, the sound of the intermittent drops of sweat splattering against the floor were as loud as pebbles dropping on a drum. He never imagined he could perspire so profusely, especially when he wasn’t even all that hot.

“What should I do with the sample?” Stephanie asked, as she moved away.

“Give it to me,” Daniel replied from someplace in the room.

Michael allowed himself to take a deep breath, and he relaxed a degree. He had himself pressed up against the wall as flat as he could be, to minimize the bulge his body made in the drape. He heard more sounds he could not identify, along with what he guessed was the silver casing snapping shut.

“You know, we could change rooms,” Daniel said. “Or even hotels if you want.”

“What do you think we should do?”

“I think we should just stay put. There are multiple keys for every room in every hotel. Tonight when we sleep, we’ll be sure to use the dead bolt.”

Michael heard the heavy click of the security lock being activated on the door to the hall.

“That’s a lock and a half,” Daniel commented. “What do you say? I don’t want you to feel nervous. There’s no need.”

Michael heard the door to the hall shake.

“I guess the lock’s all right,” Stephanie said. “It seems secure.”

“With that dead bolt thrown, no one would be able to come through that door without us knowing it. They’d have to use a battering ram.”

“Okay,” Stephanie said. “Let’s just stay here. It is only one night, and a short one at that, since you have us flying out to London at five after seven. What an ungodly hour. By the way: How come we’re going through Paris?”

“There was no choice. British Airways apparently doesn’t serve Turin. It was either Air France to Paris or Lufthansa to Frankfurt. I figured it was better not to backtrack.”

“It seems ridiculous not to have a direct flight to London, of all places. I mean, Turin is one of the major industrial cities of Italy.”

“What can I say?” Daniel questioned with a shrug. “But for now, how about you getting your walking shoes and whatever else you want so we can get back to our sightseeing.”

“Oh, please do!” Michael pleaded silently.

“I’ve had a change of heart,” Stephanie said, to Michael’s immediate chagrin. “What about staying in until we go out to dinner? It’s already after four, and it will be dark soon. As little as you slept last night, you must be exhausted.”

“I am tired,” Daniel admitted.

“Let’s take off our clothes and get in bed. I’ll even give you a little back rub, and we’ll see what else happens, depending on how tired you are. What do you say?”

Daniel laughed. “I’ve never heard a better idea in my life. To be honest, I wasn’t all that interested in the sightseeing. I was doing it more for your benefit.”

“Well, that’s no longer necessary, my dear!”

Michael cringed as he heard sounds of disrobing, giggles, and endearments. He feared one of them would come to close the drapes, but that didn’t happen. He heard the sounds the bed made, as bodies settled into it. He heard the sound of lotion being squeezed from a bottle and even the sound of flesh against slippery flesh. There was the murmur of contentment from Daniel, as his massage progressed.

“All right,” Daniel said finally. “Now it’s your turn.” The bed complained as bodies shifted.