Robin Cook - Seizure

“They must have removed the sample.”

“Obviously,” Michael responded, as he exhaled. He sounded depressed.

“You are distraught.”

“More than you would guess.”

“Certainly all is not lost. Perhaps now you should approach the Americans directly and demand the sample’s return.”

Michael rubbed his face forcibly and then exhaled. He looked at Luigi. “I don’t think that is an option, not after what I did to get the empty case. And even if I did, your assessment of their character is most likely correct. They would refuse. My sense is that they have a specific plan for the sample, to which they are committed.”

“Do you know when they are leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning at five after seven on Air France. They are flying to London via Paris.”

“Well, there is another option,” Luigi said, tenting his fingers. “There is a sure way to get the sample back. I happen to be related on my mother’s side of the family to a gentleman by the name of Carlo Ricciardi. He is a first cousin. He also happens to be the Soprintendente Archeologico del Piedmonte, meaning the regional director, of NPPA, which stands for Nucleo Protezione Patrimonio Artistico e Archeologico.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It is not surprising, since their activities are mostly carried out sub rosa, but they are a special corps of the carabinieri responsible for the safety of Italy’s vast treasure of historical monuments and objects, which certainly includes the Shroud of Turin, despite the Holy See being its rightful owner. If I were to call Carlo, he would have no trouble retrieving the sample.”

“What would you say? I mean, you gave the Americans the sample; it’s not like they stole it. In fact, since you gave it to them in a public place, an enterprising Italian lawyer could probably even produce a witness.”

“I would not suggest the sample was stolen. I would merely say that the sample had been obtained under false pretenses, which apparently is the case. But more importantly, I would state that no authorization had been given for the sample to be taken out of Italy. In fact, I would add that removal of the sample from Italy had been strictly forbidden, and yet I had information the Americans were planning to do so tomorrow morning.”

“And these archeological police would have the authority to confiscate it.”

“Most definitely! They are a very powerful and independent agency. To give you an example, a number of years ago your then President Reagan asked the then Italian president if the recently found ancient bronzes pulled from the sea off Reggio di Calabria could be brought to the Los Angeles Olympics as the game’s icons. The Italian president agreed, but the regional Soprintendente Archeologico said no, and the statues stayed in Italy.”

“Okay, I’m impressed,” Michael said. “Does the agency have its own uniformed enforcement division?”

“They have their own plainclothes ispettori, or inspectors, but for general enforcement they use either uniformed carabinieri or Guardia di Finanza officers. At the airport, it would probably be the Guardia di Finanza, although if they are acting under Carlo’s specific orders, the carabinieri most likely would participate as well.”

“If you make the call, what will happen to the Americans?”

“Tomorrow morning, when they check in for their international flight, they will be arrested, jailed, and eventually tried. In Italy, charges of this nature are considered very serious. But they would not be tried right away. Such cases move slowly. But, the sample will be returned to us straightaway, and the problem will be solved.”

“Make the call!” Michael said simply. He was disappointed, but all was not lost. Obviously, he would not be able to take credit for solving the problem with the shroud sample single-handedly. On the other hand, he could still make sure the cardinal knew he had been an indispensable participant.

A contented belch rumbled from the pit of Daniel’s stomach to emerge between his puffed-up cheeks. His hand clasped his face in a halfhearted attempt to conceal his impish smile.

Stephanie cast him one of what she considered her most scornful looks. She never thought it was funny when he gave vent to his mischievously juvenile side.

Daniel laughed. “Hey, relax. We had a great dinner and a great bottle of Barolo. Let’s not ruin it!”

“I’ll relax after I check out our room,” Stephanie said. “I think I have the right to be on edge after someone pawed through my belongings earlier.”

Daniel keyed the door and pushed it open. Stephanie stepped over the threshold and let her eyes wander. Daniel started to go past her into the room. She held him back with her arm.

“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” Daniel complained.

“We had visitors!”

“Oh! How can you tell?”

Stephanie pointed toward the bureau. “The silver case is gone.”

“Gone it is,” Daniel said. “I guess you were right all along.”

“Of course I was right,” Stephanie responded. She walked over and put her hand on the bureau where the silver case had been, as if she didn’t believe it was gone. “But so were you. They must have been after the shroud sample.”

“Well, I have to give you full credit for your idea of taking the sample out and leaving the case behind.”

“Thank you,” Stephanie said. “But first, let’s make sure it wasn’t just that they thought the case was something valuable.” She went over to her suitcase and again checked her jewelry case. Everything was still in it, including the cash.

Daniel did the same. The jewelry, cash, and traveler’s checks were all accounted for. He straightened up. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

“Get out of Italy. Never in a million years did I ever think I’d feel that way.” Stephanie collapsed on the bed, coat and all, and stared up at the multicolored glass chandelier.

“I’m talking about tonight.”

“You mean whether to change hotels or rooms?”

“Exactly.”

“Let’s just stay here and use the dead bolt.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Daniel said as he stepped out of his pants. Holding them by the cuffs, he arranged them to preserve the creases. “I cannot wait to climb into bed,” he added, as he eyed Stephanie, sprawled out on her back. He then went to the closet and hung up his trousers. Holding on to the jamb, he stepped out of his loafers.

“It would be a humongous effort to move, and I’m bushed,” Stephanie said. With great effort, she got back on her feet and shook off her coat. “Besides, I’m not confident whoever has been plaguing us wouldn’t be able to find us wherever we went. Let’s just not leave this room until we’re ready to leave the hotel.” She pushed past Daniel and hung up her coat.

“Fine by me,” Daniel said, as he unbuttoned his shirt. “In the morning, we can even skip trying to have something to eat here at the hotel. Instead, we can grab a bite of breakfast at one of those coffee bars at the airport. They all seem to have a selection of pastries. The concierge said we should be there around six, which means we are going to have to get up pretty damn early, even if we don’t try to eat before leaving.”

“Excellent idea,” Stephanie said. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to getting to the airport, checking in, and getting on that plane.”

4:45 A.M., Tuesday, February 26, 2002

Despite the hefty security lock on the door, Stephanie slept poorly. Every noise from inside the hotel or from outside had caused a minor panic reaction, and there had been a lot of noises. At one point just after midnight, when guests had keyed and entered a neighboring room, Stephanie had sat up, ready for battle, certain the people were coming into her room. She’d sat up so quickly that she’d pulled the covers from Daniel, whose response was to yank them back angrily.