The Second Messiah (36 page)

“ARE YOU GOING
to keep me in suspense?” Yasmin asked impatiently.

Jack’s face sparked as he plucked the drawing from the box and studied it under the magnifying glass. “It’s a rough drawing that represents an inscribed Roman slab. What they call a bas-relief. The reliefs were made to decorate a wall or building in an artful way, or to record important events.”

“I know what they are. What’s the big deal?”

“I saw a similar drawing in Father Novara’s study.”

“You mean depicting the exact same images?”

“I believe so. Both drawings were alike, with dramatic images of animals, monsters, and sylphs.”

“What’s the significance?”

Jack carefully shifted the drawing under the reading light, a burst of excitement infecting his voice. “When I first saw the drawing in Novara’s study, I had a feeling I’d seen these images before but couldn’t recall where. Now that I’ve seen the scroll shape the images are drawn within, I remember.”

“Remember what?”

“During the middle of the first century
A.D.
, when the Emperor Nero ruled, Rome was a vast city with a population of about a million. It had many of the trappings of a modern society—apartment blocks, an intricate sewage system, fire brigades, a rudimentary police force, and law courts. One of the digs I worked on explored parts of underground Rome that are still intact from that period. Guess what?”

“I’m past guessing, Jack, just cut to the back end. The suspense is torture.”

“I’ve seen this same relief before on several marble slabs. These images of animals, monsters, and sylphs are very distinctive. The slabs themselves were about six feet long, shaped like massive unrolled Roman scrolls, and had chiseled inscriptions.”

Jack studied the drawing more closely. “There was a whole bunch of them on the wall of an enormous round room, what the Romans called a rotunda. Many commemorated deeds by Roman commanders. Archaeologists called the slabs the Nero marbles because they were in a huge villa, part of which dated from the period.”

“What did the inscriptions say?”

“There were too many to recall exactly. And many of them had been damaged by subsidence and rockfalls. But I remember one in particular documented a list of plundered gifts presented to Nero by one of his commanders in Palestine.”

Yasmin frowned. “So what’s the drawing doing in this box?”

Jack tossed down the magnifier and scratched his head. “Another inscription we found nearby commemorated the defeat of the Jews at Masada, near Qumran, in 78
A.D.
, during the Roman occupation. But apart from that, I can’t really see any great relevance. Except the drawing’s got to have some if it’s in a Vatican file. Novara also had a rough copy of it.”

Jack slipped out his cell phone and Yasmin said, “What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture of the drawing. Move that reading lamp over here.”

“What about the security cameras?”

“Shift yourself over here. If I hunch my shoulders I can cover up what I’m doing.”

“Kelly will go crazy if he finds out.”

“Too late.” There was a soft click, followed by several more. Jack checked the recorded images he’d shot before he flipped shut his phone and tucked it back in his pocket. “It’s not exactly high-quality photography, but I think I’ve got what I need.”

Yasmin’s mouth opened as she stared past Jack’s shoulder. “We’ve got a problem. Kelly’s seen us and he’s on his way over.”

Jack had just replaced the second box on the shelf when he heard footsteps and turned. Kelly stood there with a sour look. Beside him waited a tall, lanky man with a dour expression like a sad bloodhound. Dark rings under his eyes suggested he hadn’t had proper sleep for days.

Kelly said bluntly to Jack, “What were you doing? Did you touch one of the box files?”

“I found a note that referred to a document in another box, right there. I was almost tempted to take a look. How about it?”

Kelly appeared suspicious as he checked the box file on the shelf for himself, then pushed it back into place. “Absolutely not, you know the rules. Besides, your time’s up.”

Kelly clicked his fingers at the lanky man. “Father Rossi, one of our senior archivists, will check the file to make sure it’s all there. Proceed, Father.”

“Yes, Excellency.”

Jack said, “There’s a document’s missing from our box.”

Kelly’s eyes narrowed. “
What?
”

“According to the index there’s supposed to be a document number nine, titled ‘Father John Becket’s statement,’ but it’s not in there.”

Kelly was suspicious. “Is this some kind of trickery?”

“No way. Look for yourself.”

Kelly searched the pages and frowned. “He’s right, it’s not there.”

Jack said, “We haven’t got it. We’ve nothing to hide.”

The archivist was ashen, at a genuine loss to explain. “Excellency, we haven’t got around to working on this section yet, so I can’t explain why the document’s missing. I’ll check to see if anyone signed it out, but I’m sure I would have noted it in my records.”

Kelly was grim. “This is serious, Father Rossi. Deal with it personally.”

“Of course, Excellency.” The archivist flushed, tucked the box file under his arm, and crossed back to his work area.

Kelly regarded Jack with a skeptical look. “Under the circumstances, you and your lady friend will have to submit to a full strip search before you leave.”

THEY FOLLOWED KELLY
into a chamber manned by two well-dressed security guards, one male and one female. The cardinal spoke to the guards in Italian. “Check them both. A document is missing. Do a full and thorough examination, if you please.”

The woman led Yasmin through a nearby door while Jack was escorted by the male guard into a windowless room with a doctor’s couch and several chairs. A number of electronic devices were laid out on the table, looking vaguely like torture implements, and the guard said in English, “Please remove everything from your pockets, signore.”

Jack removed his notebook, wallet, and cell phone and the guard checked each in turn before he picked up an electronic scanner. “Arms wide, please.”

Jack did as he was told and the guard ran the scanner over his body. “What does the scanner check for?” Jack asked.

The guard smiled. “Paper or parchment of any kind. In case you have stolen documents.”

“You mean people actually try and steal items from the Vatican Archives?”

The guard raised his eyes in amusement. “Over the years I have caught respected priests and senior clergy trying to smuggle out priceless church papers. But nothing escapes our eyes, or our fingers.”

“Fingers?”

“Bend over, signore.”

“You’ve just got to be kidding.”

“I must check all your body’s
orifices
.”

The guard’s pronunciation of the last word was a little askew but Jack got the message. “Now hold on a second—”

A smirk flickered on the guard’s face as he tugged on a pair of latex gloves and picked up a jar of lubrication jelly. “Cardinal Kelly gave strict orders. Refuse, and his next step would be to involve the Vatican security police. Believe me, you don’t want that nightmare. Actually, you’d be surprised how many people have been caught trying to hide papers in intimate places.”

“What surprises me is that I’ve agreed to this.”

The man picked up a penlight and flicked it on. “Like thieves, prisoners often hide objects inside themselves in slim containers. Lean forward, elbows on the table. This check I am about to carry out is just like the one a doctor does. You know, when he checks the
prostate
by putting his finger up your—”

“Yeah, I get the general idea.” Jack sighed, took a deep breath, and tried to steel himself against the humiliation and discomfort that were about to come.

“Spread your legs, signore, and bend over.”

“And to think you never even bought me lunch.”

Minutes later Jack buckled his trousers and followed the guard out of the room. Apart from mild discomfort, he felt violated and said to Kelly, “That was a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“A document is missing; extreme measures are called for. We can’t be too careful, Jack.”

“I guess the good news is I won’t have to visit my urologist this year.”

Kelly offered a tight smile. “My apologies, but security really is paramount.”

“Has Father Rossi had any luck finding the document?”

“Not yet. But trust me, he’s like a hound after a scent in such matters. I’m sure he’ll get to the bottom of it, or kill himself in the process.”

The female guard gave a silent nod to Kelly when she appeared moments later, an unhappy-looking Yasmin behind her.

“It seems you’re both in the clear,” Kelly offered. “Now, let me show you out.”

As Kelly hurried them toward the exit, Jack said, “Have you ever heard of the Nero marbles?”

Kelly frowned and looked up and to the left, as if at some imaginary spot above his eyeline, then shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Why?”

“You’re sure?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. What are they?”

“Maybe my other questions are more important. What about the Atbash code, Cardinal? Have you heard of that?”

Kelly arched an eyebrow. “Yes, I have. Professor Schonfeld, one of the original Dead Sea scroll translators, claimed to have discovered such a code hidden in some of the texts. Why do you ask?”

“The scroll I found contained part gibberish. I’ve been wondering if it’s written in some kind of code.”

Kelly’s eyes sparked. “How incredibly interesting.
Any
help the church can give, you only have to ask, Jack. Such a document could prove of great interest to our scholars.” He handed over a card embossed with a golden Vatican seal. “My private cell phone number is on the front. Call me day or night if I can be of help.”

Jack tucked the card in his pocket as they followed Kelly down a flight of steps. “I appreciate that. You said you read Father Kubel’s report.”

“Many years ago.”

“What about the missing file titled ‘Father John Becket’s statement’?”

Kelly looked up and into the distance a few seconds, then shook his head. “I never even knew it existed. But I can always ask the pope about it. If he recalls having written it, and I feel the contents may be of help to you, I assure you I’ll get back to you at once.”

“One last question, Cardinal.”

Kelly glanced at his watch as they came out into the Belvedere Courtyard. “May I remind you I have an urgent appointment, Jack?”

“Then I won’t waste your time. Do you know Father Vincento Novara?”

Kelly frowned and gave that look again, toward some imagined point right above his eyeline. “Vincento Novara? Who’s he?”

“A Catholic priest and Aramaic scholar who lived at a monastery at Maloula, in Syria. I believe he was translating the stolen scroll when I met him yesterday and that he was involved with black-market thieves who stole it. Novara’s been brutally murdered.”

“I—I’m sorry to hear. That’s dreadful. But I’ve never heard of Novara.”

“Could you do me another favor? Check out Novara for me? I’ll take whatever you can find. He’s bound to be in your church records.”

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can do.” Kelly sounded noncommittal. They reached the door and the cardinal made a point of consulting his watch. “I’m afraid I’m already seriously late for my appointment.”

“Just one more question. Is Father Kubel alive?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’d like to talk with him.”

Kelly held open the door. “I’m afraid that’s impossible. The last I heard, Father Kubel was at death’s door, if he hasn’t passed away already.” Kelly offered his hand. “I really must be going. I’ll hold you to your promise of a copy of the translated scroll, Jack. A pleasure seeing you again. And to meet you, Miss Green.
Arrivederci
.”

The Serb had the patience of a hunter. He remained across the street from the security barrier manned by Vatican guards. He wandered around the square but stayed close enough to observe the barrier and the waiting taxi. Every now and then he played his role of tourist and used the video cam but eventually he folded his tourist map, stuffed the camera in the travel bag hanging from his shoulder, and strolled back to the Lancia. He leaned his elbow on the open window, grumbling to Nidal, “There’s still no sign of the couple.”