The Mask of Destiny (21 page)

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Authors: Richard Newsome

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BOOK: The Mask of Destiny
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‘Ah, you are admiring the
Cortile della Pigna
—my little garden plot. It is quite a view, yes?'

‘Mr Serafini?' Gerald said.

‘I prefer Dr Serafini, please. Doctor of Religious Antiquities. Our mutual friend McElderry speaks highly of you Gerald, and you, Miss Valentine.' His eyes settled on Sam, who had picked up a small statue from the desk in the middle of the room. ‘And this must be Mr Valentine,' Dr Serafini said. ‘Knox has spoken of you as well.' His eyes moved to the statue in Sam's hands. ‘Perhaps you might place that back where you found it. It survived the sacking of the Serapeum in Alexandria in 391AD; it would be a shame for it not to survive you.'

Sam replaced the statue, which wobbled for a second on its fragile base but then settled into place. ‘There,' Dr Serafini said. ‘All is as it should be. I'm sure Knox was mistaken when he said you were the stupidest boy in the world.'

‘Huh?' Sam said.

‘You are twins? Always interesting things, twins.'

‘Things?' said Ruby.

‘Rome was founded by twins of course,' Dr Serafini continued. ‘Romulus and Remus, descendants of a prince and raised by wolves, so the story goes. Now there's a childhood! And of course there's the legend of Castor and Pollux, the Dioscuri.'

‘Dios—?'

‘Dioscuri—twin brothers from Greece. You may have heard of their Latin name—Gemini. A very interesting pair. When Castor died, Pollux was so upset that he asked the gods to let him share the death.'

‘How do you share a death?' Ruby asked.

‘Pollux would spend one day enjoying life on Olympus, while his brother was in the underworld. Then they'd swap places the next day. A fairly good arrangement, given the circumstances.'

Sam looked confused. ‘How do you mean underworld?'

‘He means dead, Sam,' Ruby said. ‘He means you'd spend every other day dead and buried.'

Sam thought for a few seconds. ‘Well, that doesn't sound much fun at all.'

Dr Serafini studied Sam with a wary eye. ‘Knox may have been onto something after all,' he said. He turned to Gerald. ‘I am so glad you have come to visit, young Wilkins. Come, I have something to show you.'

Dr Serafini crossed to the desk. In the centre of the polished wooden surface sat a shallow rectangular box, about half a metre long. A piece of soft leather covered the top.

‘What is it?' Gerald asked.

Dr Serafini pulled back the cover. ‘I was hoping you would tell me,' he said.

It was a wooden display case. Under the glass top was a piece of yellowed paper covered in writing of the faintest ink. A black leather lace was threaded through two holes at the bottom of the paper, and tied in the middle was a gold disc, about the size of a hockey puck.

‘I think you might recognise this,' Dr Serafini said to Gerald.

Pressed into the gold disk was the clear impression of three forearms clamped at the elbows forming a triangle around a blazing sun.

‘Your family seal, I believe,' Dr Serafini said, watching Gerald's reaction. ‘Professor McElderry was asking about it some weeks back. When he told me you were coming, I thought you might like to see it.'

Gerald looked carefully at the disc. The detail in the metal was exquisite.

‘What does the writing say?' Ruby asked.

‘This, Miss Valentine, is a letter written in 394AD by one Quintus Antonius to Theodosius the Great, emperor of Rome.'

Gerald took in a sharp breath.

Quintus Antonius.

His ancestor.

‘Professor McElderry told us the emperor sent Quintus and his three sons on some secret mission,' Gerald said, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing.

‘As ever, Knox has done his research,' Dr Serafini said. ‘This letter is a report of that very mission.'

‘Does it say anything about golden rods?' Sam asked. Gerald winced, and he saw Ruby screw her eyes shut.

Dr Serafini glanced sideways at Sam. ‘Nothing as interesting as that,' he said. ‘My Latin is a little rusty, and this letter is written in the vernacular, the common language of the day. It is possible to translate it many ways.'

‘That's okay,' Sam said. ‘Just give it your best shot.'

Dr Serafini looked at Sam again. ‘My best shot, eh?' He pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and adjusted them on his nose. He then read the letter written to the emperor more than sixteen hundred years ago.

Our group is a day's ride from Brindisium. We
meet with a company of your legionnaires in a
week. All is unfolding as planned. I will take
the young men into my confidence once we are
at sea. My sons serve Rome well. Your eternal
reign is secure.

Your servant,
Quintus Antonius, Consul of Rome

Gerald's eyebrows were arched high. ‘Wow. Do you have any idea what they were doing?'

Dr Serafini peered at him over his glasses. ‘I thought you might know something about that.'

Gerald felt Dr Serafini's eyes drilling into him. ‘There was a map in London,' Gerald said. ‘With three paths coming out of Rome. We thought it might have shown the routes taken by Quintus's sons when they smuggled the…' His voice trailed off. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.

Dr Serafini tilted his head a little. ‘Smuggled?'

‘Three golden rods,' Sam chimed in. Ruby landed a sharp kick to her brother's right ankle, sending him to the floor with a yelp of pain.

‘Aren't you clumsy?' Ruby said to her brother. She helped him to his feet. ‘You ought to take more care.' She turned to Dr Serafini. ‘Three olden roads,' she said. ‘What my clumsy brother was trying to say was they must have taken three olden day roads on their trip to wherever.' She gave a light laugh.

Dr Serafini stroked his beard. Gerald could tell he didn't believe a word Ruby said.

‘Brindisium is the ancient name for Brindisi,' Dr Serafini said. ‘It was the main port for all Roman shipping to Greece. Ferries still ply the route today.'

‘So Quintus was travelling to Greece?' Gerald said.

Dr Serafini folded the leather cover back over the display case. ‘Possibly. But wherever they went, it's ancient history now,' he said. ‘However, I digress. Knox tells me you are interested in the Tower of the Winds.'

‘That's right,' Gerald said, happy to move the conversation on. ‘I hear there's some interesting paintings in there. Sam is really interested in art.'

Dr Serafini raised an eyebrow.

‘He is?'

‘Sure,' said Sam. ‘Why not?'

‘You don't strike me as the sit-down-for-a-long-period-of-time type of boy. But yes, there are some extraordinary frescoes in there. Come. It will be my pleasure to show you.'

Sam shuffled next to Gerald as Dr Serafini led them out of the room and down a long corridor. He whispered into Gerald's ear, ‘What's a fresco?'

Ruby was about to take another shot at Sam's ankle, but Dr Serafini turned around to face them. ‘The Tower of the Winds is not open to the public. It would be too difficult to manage crowds in such a tight space; few have seen its treasures.'

‘Is it true the tower was first used as an observatory?' Sam asked.

Dr Serafini gave him a surprised look. ‘That's right. The meridian hall still has the marble line across the floor where they marked their observations of the positions of the sun hundreds of years ago.'

They stopped in front of a door. Brown paint was peeling from its surface. Dr Serafini opened it and they went inside.

‘Take a seat,' he said. ‘I'll be back in a minute.'

‘Where are you going?' Ruby asked.

‘To fetch a key,' he said, smiling. ‘I won't be long.'

Dr Serafini pulled the door closed. And then came the sound of a lock turning.

Gerald moved to the door and rattled the handle. It wouldn't budge.

‘I don't like the look of this,' he said. He crossed to the windows on the opposite wall.

‘Why would he lock us in?' Ruby said, and she tried the door again.

‘I don't want to hang around to find out,' Gerald said. ‘There's a ledge out here. It runs the length of the building. I reckon we could climb down to the courtyard.'

Ruby joined him by the window and looked at the five metre drop to the ground below. ‘You're not serious?'

Gerald tugged on a metal bolt that secured one of the windows. ‘Dr Serafini seemed awfully interested in the golden rods,' he said. The bolt worked free and Gerald pushed the window open. ‘He may not be as friendly as he makes out.'

But before Gerald could climb onto the sill, the door behind them opened.

Dr Serafini stepped into the room, followed by Constable Lethbridge and the stern-faced figure of Walter. And in the corridor beyond, it seemed, was half the Vatican security service.

Chapter 15

A
broad white bandage was wrapped around the top of Walter's head. He greeted Gerald through gritted teeth.

Gerald looked from Walter to the open window.

Ruby stared at him in alarm. ‘Gerald, don't…'

Then Walter stepped forward. ‘Let me speak to the boy. I'm trained in child psychology,' he said to Dr Serafini who nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

‘Don't be mad with Dr Serafini,' Walter said to Gerald. ‘He contacted us after hearing from Professor McElderry this morning. He was concerned about your safety.' Walter gave Gerald a look of practised pity. ‘As we all are, Gerry.'

‘Rubbish!' Sam said. ‘You're just worried about Gerald's money.'

Walter smiled. ‘Such negative energy in one so young.'

‘Is that right? How's the head?' Sam replied.

Walter's smile vanished. He placed a hand on the bandage and pressed his lips together. ‘I am willing to forgive the assault by your sister,' he said. ‘Don't push it.'

Walter faced Gerald and forced another smile. ‘You are a child. A simple boy. Your brain isn't developed enough to be making important decisions. That's why you're in such trouble. I bet you find yourself in trouble at school all the time. Am I right? You need to let an adult decide for you. I know what's best.'

Gerald couldn't believe what he was hearing. ‘Is that how you see my mother? You know what's best for her too?'

Walter took a pace towards Gerald with his hands extended. ‘Come home, Gerry. Face up to what you've done. Confession will shore up your foundations—give you a firm footing from which to construct a new and better tower of you. Now, you will have to start your new life in the basement. Or prison, more like. And it may delay access to your inheritance for a few years. But what are years at your age? And your mother, with my guidance, will manage the estate for you.'

Ruby snorted. ‘How considerate,' she said.

Walter lowered his hands. ‘It's the best offer you're going to get today, son,' he said. ‘The constable and I are ready to take you home.'

Gerald turned to Lethbridge, who was standing just inside the closed door. ‘You know there's no way I killed Mason Green. It had to be Charlotte.'

The policeman was gazing out the window with a lost look on his face.

‘When you saw her,' Lethbridge said, ‘did she mention me?'

Gerald was surprised by the question. ‘Um, I think she said something about meeting you.'

Lethbridge sighed deeply. ‘She was very beautiful. Her lips…they were like a big jam doughnut…'

‘I'm not sure I'd put it quite like that, but yeah, I guess she had nice lips.'

Lethbridge's gaze was stuck on the window. ‘All I ever wanted was a friend,' he said. ‘And my pigeons.'

Clouds drifted over the sun, drawing a grey curtain across the sky.

‘Constable Lethbridge?' Ruby said. ‘Are you all right?'

Lethbridge's eyes misted over. ‘You really think you can catch her?' he asked.

‘I really think we have to try,' Gerald said.

Walter had heard enough. ‘Listen you.' He walked over and prodded Lethbridge in the chest. ‘Your job is to bring this kid back to England to face justice. No one cares about your love life. Cuff him and let's get out of this dump.'

Lethbridge reached for the handcuffs on his belt.

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