Shrouded in Silence (24 page)

Blake smiled. "Gentlemen, let's start the show."

31

K
laus burchel carried the last box of electronic equipment in and set it on the floor of the new apartment. Albert Stein stood by the window, mumbling to himself. On the street below the humdrum of honking cars and speeding traffic echoed down the block. Via Glustiniani ran behind the Pantheon, an ancient place of worship with a vast domed ceiling, but the neighborhood wasn't shabby. Still, the apartment was a step down from where Stein had been.

"I don't like this location near as well as the flat on Via del Gracchi," Stein said. "Much closer to Vatican City over there." He shook his head. "But this is an address the police don't have, and I must protect my residence at all cost."

Klaus nodded. "We got your furniture moved in through the night quickly enough that no one will know you are missing for days. If they don't catch you for something else, you'll be safe."

Stein glared at him. "They didn't
catch me
doing anything! I was at Townsend's demolished office and they wanted information. Understand? Information!"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm waiting to see if Townsend survives," Stein said. "I'm sure that stupid wife of his will hang in limbo doing nothing until the man's fate is settled. It slows us down as well."

"I could go up to the hospital and sneak in," Burchel thought out loud.

"Stupid idea," Stein growled. "The nurses would be all over you in an instant. Give it some time and then we'll consider sending you in."

Burchel shrugged sheepishly. "Just a suggestion."

Stein started pacing back and forth. "From our hidden surveillance system, I picked up that they are on to a new chase for a document hidden somewhere in the Vatican. I could start looking for that little gem, but I must be careful not to raise any suspicion." He kept walking back and forth. "We've still got to hunt for that ending to Mark's Gospel."

"Now that the worthless Jew is dead," Burchel said. "It makes matters easier. Doesn't it?"

"Not necessarily," Stein said. "He was the one leading the search in the Vatican Secret Library for this new interest. If he was still around, he'd be the one whose head should be put in the vice."

"I'd love to do that," Burchel grumbled. "I hate Jews."

"You're not exactly in love with the Americans either," Stein sneered.

"I had time to think about it while I was in Munich," Klaus said. "The Americans ruined everything with their victory in World War II. They destroyed the way of life that my family had developed and reduced them to poverty." He pounded his fist into his palm. "These Yanks can't be allowed to do it again. I think we ought to kill the Townsends." His voice raised. "Kill 'em if nothing else just for the sport of it!"

"My, my, Klaus. You do have a nasty disposition, don't you? Admirable trait."

Mad Jack's on Via Arenula was an Irish pub with a festive atmosphere, and at night the music was loud while the drinks floated away like the Tiber River. In the afternoon, Mad Jack's usually stayed relatively quiet. Michelle didn't stop there often and always came with her husband. They'd often laughed about Jack's and the pub's names being the same. Sitting and talking on this late fall afternoon seemed somewhat nostalgic and made her feel closer to her husband. She and Guido Valentino talked over coffee.

"Have you heard anything from the hospital today," Guido asked.

"Just the usual. Jack's still in a coma, but they hope he will come out soon. Maybe his vital signs have improved some, but there's not much good news."

Guido nodded his head. "Very difficult. Yes, the situation is not good."

"I've thought a great deal about what Jack would want me to do," Michelle said. "It wasn't in his nature to slow down or put things on hold. I believe he would want me to continue our work. We still have important projects floating out there. I can't sit still and let them dangle in the air."

Guido took a sip of his coffee. "You are a courageous woman, Michelle." He held up his hand to keep her from protesting his compliment. "Even with your post-traumatic stress problem you are ready to struggle on with the work. I have some suggestions. Please hear me out."

Michelle raised her eyebrows. "OK."

"I told you that I was here to be of help and I meant it. I am willing to assist you in anyway that I can. I am more than serious. You and I can continue the work. We can do it together."

"Thank you, Guido. I know Jack would profoundly appreciate your availability. I certainly do. I'm just not quite sure where to turn."

"Let's consider what's before you," Guido said. "Tell me what the next step might be."

Michelle thought for a moment. "Now that Dov Sharon is gone, his interest in the
Sarajevo Haggadah
has ended. The book was in Hebrew and that was his expertise."

"OK," Guido said. "We can take that project off the list."

Michelle nodded. "It's a shame, but you're right. Did Jack share much with you about the Brown Book, as the Vatican calls it?
The Prologue of James?

"Enough that I am highly intrigued. Finding that material could be revolutionary. I'd be profoundly interested in locating and reading such a manuscript. However, only Jack and Dov really understood where the search was going. I'd be at a loss to know where to turn next."

"The problem is that I'm a woman and the Vatican isn't hot on women wandering around in their library. They're not known for dishing out good treatment to nuns, feminists, ordained women of other denominations, and scholars like me. I'm afraid I'd almost have to dress like a man and trim my hair down to a crew cut to go researching around in their archives."

"Afraid so. It's almost like that project awaits Jack's return." He stopped and rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. "Of course, we don't know when that will be and if he'll be able to remember what they did a few weeks ago."

Michelle looked away, but tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm afraid to think about it."

"At least, the situation at hand suggests we must wait for Jack's return before we do anything on
The Prologue
project.

Michelle nodded, but didn't say anything.

They sat silently and watched the cars and tourists walk passed. Finally, Michelle spoke.

"Our pressing work is finding the original ending to
Mark's Gospel.
That's where this trek began and is Jack's passion. The original interview with
Ill Messaggero
had been about our search. A reporter named Mario Corsini was intrigued over the possibility of what we might turn up. I think that's the logical project to continue working on."

"And that is why I first came to you after I read the article in the newspaper. What I didn't tell you was that I did an extraordinary amount of research on both of your backgrounds. I wanted to know everything I could about you before I told you why I volunteered to help."

"Really?" Michelle squinted. "You're kidding."

"After the explosion in your offices, I continued to observe you carefully. I had to know that you were genuine Christians and completely trustworthy."

Michelle grinned. "Come on! Why would you do such a thing?"

Guido pushed back from the table and looked her straight in the eyes. "There is much that I have not told either of you about myself," he said. "Only after I have shared with you the entire story will you be able to understand."

"Understand? What don't we know about you?"

"I can only tell you one piece of the story at a time. I must watch how everything plays out before I'll be able to convey all that I know, but I can assure you that what I have is vital to your work."

Michelle blinked several times. "Guido, I don't have any idea where you're going with all of this. We checked your resume with Musei Capitolini, and their report back to us was excellent.

"Of course. I worked at the museum under the name Guido Valentino, but you must understand that is not my true name."

Michelle gasped. "Not your
true
name?"

Guido shook his head. "No. My actual name will blow your mind."

Part Three

Midnight Approaches

32

T
he fall afternoon had slowly begun to slip away and the traffic on the street had picked up. After 4:00, all the stores opened again from their two-to-four nap break that many took every day. A few more customers had come in, and Mad Jack's had started the usual upward climb toward its nighttime peak, but Michelle remained unconcerned with the crowd strolling by. She leaned over the table to talk more privately and cupped her hand over her mouth. Other patrons in Mad Jack's Irish Pub walked by without paying much attention to her intense conversation with Guido Valentino.

"OK, Guido. What's this name you have hidden away that's suppose to scramble my mind? Some magic incantation you dug up from beneath the Roman streets?"

Her cell phone rang.

"Just a minute," Michelle said and picked up the phone. "
Ciao."

"This is the hospital," a female voice said. "We need you to come here at once. It is urgent."

"I'll be there as quickly as I can grab a taxi," Michelle said. "I'm on my way."

"What's happened?" Guido said.

"I don't know, but I've got to get to the hospital. I'll catch you later."

Michelle ran into the street and started hailing a taxi. Within moments she was on her way across the city. "There's an extra ten euros in this trip if you hurry."

"Presto!" The driver started swerving erratically in and out of the crowded lane. Like a teenage stock-car driver, he maneuvered wildly down the streets.

Michelle settled back in the seat and worried over what she had not heard. Whatever it was that Guido had to tell her, it couldn't compare with the urgency of making sure Jack hadn't taken a turn for the worse. Within record time, the cab swung in front of the hospital and Michelle jumped out.

Running down the long halls toward Jack's room, she realized that blood was pounding in her head and remembered the doctors had warned her to take it easy. She slowed to a quick gait. As she reached the room, a nurse was coming out.

"Is Jack OK?" Michelle grabbed the woman's arm.

"Look and see." The nurse pushed the door open.

To Michelle's astonishment, Jack was sitting up in bed with his eyes closed, leaning against a pillow propped up behind his head. It was the first time in weeks he had been out of bed.

"Jack!"

Jack slowly opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Jack?"

He blinked several times as if he was trying to bring her into focus.