“For atmosphere, I suppose. To tell the truth, I don’t really know. It gets even more claustrophobic around Peter’s tomb. Are you going to be able to handle it?”
“I think so. Where are we now?”
“We’re in the middle of the Roman necropolis that Constantine had completely filled in the fourth century to form the foundation for his basilica. What’s been excavated is this single east-west path between two rows of tombs. Most were first- through fourth-century pagan mausoleums, although a few Christian mosaic images and inscriptions have been found.”
“This place gives me the creeps. Where’s Peter’s tomb, so we can check it out and get on our way?”
Shawn gestured to his left, up the ancient Vaticanus hill. After they’d walked for fifty feet he pointed to a Roman sarcophagus in a dark corner. “If we have to store any debris, I thought we’d hide it in there. Okay?”
“Sure,” Sana said, curious why he was even asking her.
“Are you interested in getting a closer look at any of these ancient Roman tombs?” Shawn asked. “Some of them have interesting decorations.”
“I want to see Peter’s grave and where we will be working,” Sana replied. Her pant legs felt sodden, and her whole body was cold.
“This is the ‘red wall,’ ” Shawn explained as they rounded the crumbling end of a brick wall. “We’re getting close. The wall is part of what’s considered Peter’s tomb complex.” To Sana, it didn’t look particularly special. Ahead they now could hear a tour guide lecturing.
“Stop a minute,” Shawn said, where there was a breach in the red wall. “Take a look in this hole. Can you see a white marble column?”
Sana did as she was told. She could easily see the column Shawn referred to beyond the red wall, as it was illuminated. It appeared to be about six inches in diameter.
“That’s part of the Tropaion of Peter that was built over Saint Peter’s tomb. So, where we are standing now is the floor level of Constantine’s basilica.”
“So Peter’s tomb is below us.”
“That’s right. Below us and to our left.”
“Where will we be looking for the ossuary?”
“We’re now on the south side of the structure. We have to go around to the north side.”
“Let’s do it,” Sana said.
As they skirted the complex and arrived at the north side, they ran into the tour group, which included about a dozen adults of widely varying ages. The only unifying aspect was that everyone spoke English. Some were listening to the guide, others were staring off into space, while still others rudely carried on their own hushed conversations. It was hardly the kind of group Sana expected.
Shawn waited for a break in the guide’s description before urging Sana forward to follow the tour group. After ten feet, on their right they came to what the guide had been describing. It was a bluish-white plaster wall with a profusion of incised epigraphs one on top of the other, such that it was difficult to discern any one epigraph in particular.
“It’s called the graffiti wall,” Shawn explained in a hushed voice. “As I told you, during the last excavation, in order to get into Peter’s tomb without disturbing anything, in particular this graffiti wall, one had to tunnel under the wall, and then under the wall that supports the original vault over Saint Peter’s tomb. The ossuary is going to be between the two walls, back close to the red wall, which cuts across both at right angles.”
“My goodness,” Sana exclaimed. She shook her head in exasperation. It was too confusing.
“I know,” Shawn said sympathetically. “It’s extremely complex. The site has been added to and altered continuously over almost two thousand years. I might not be explaining it well, but I know what I’m talking about. My only concern is that when the red wall was in the process of being built by the Romans around the turn of the first century, they might have inadvertently stumbled across the ossuary and either moved it or destroyed it. There’s no doubt in my mind that its original location had to have been close to the red wall, which is just behind us.”
“Where does the tunnel start?” Sana questioned as she gazed around the chamber they were in.
“The tunnel is directly below where we are currently standing. At the moment, we are at the level of the floor of Constantine’s basilica. We have to descend to the level of the floor of Peter’s tomb. To get there we have to go into the next chamber. Are you ready to move on?”
“More than ready,” Sana said. Thanks to her discomfort, she wanted to see where they would be working later that night, then leave. Under the circumstances, the three-dimensional details of what Shawn was patiently describing were not registering.
Shawn led the way down a number of metal steps into a relatively large room, where the tour group had reassembled. The guide was explaining that the Plexiglas boxes seen through a small wall opening into Peter’s tomb contained the bones of the saint.
“Is that true?” Sana whispered to Shawn.
“Pope Pius the Twelfth said they were,” Shawn answered softly. “They were found scattered in the tomb within a V-shaped niche in the red wall. I think what swayed the pope was the lack of a skull. Saint Peter’s head historically was supposed to have been in the basilica of San Giovanni in Laterano.”
“Okay, so where is the tunnel?” Sana asked impatiently. She’d had enough history for the moment.
“Follow me!” Shawn said. They passed behind the tour group and approached a large decklike structure reached by several descending steps. It had a gridlike metal frame and handrails. The surface was comprised of large squares of clear three-quarter-inch glass.
Standing on the deck, one could look down to the lowest point of the excavation about five feet below.
“That’s the level of the floor of Peter’s tomb,” Shawn explained. “To get to the tunnel, we have to go down there and then back under where we are standing in front of the graffiti wall.”
“How are we going to get down there?” Sana questioned, as her eyes ran around the transparent deck. There didn’t seem to be any opening.
“The glass panel in the far corner lifts up. It’s heavy as hell, but we’ll be able to do it together. What do you think? Will you be able to manage all this?” The thought of crawling through a tunnel pricked at Sana’s mild claustrophobia.
Knowing she was already some forty to fifty feet underground didn’t help.
“Having second thoughts?” Shawn asked when Sana didn’t answer.
“Are these lights going to be on?” Sana asked in a scratchy whisper. She ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth to try to drum up a bit of saliva. Her throat had suddenly gone dry.
“We can’t have the lights on,” Shawn said. “They are on an automatic timer, and if someone were to open either of the doors to the necropolis and see the lights, they’d know something was wrong. Besides, we need the lights off to act as a warning system.
If anyone goes through the basilica while we are using the chisels, they might hear it, despite it being forty or fifty feet away. Remember, marble is a great sound transmitter.
If they come to investigate, they’ll turn on the lights, which will warn us someone is coming. Does that make sense?”
Sana reluctantly nodded. It made a lot of sense, but she didn’t like it.
“Talk to me,” Shawn said. “Are you going to be able to handle this?” Sana nodded again.
“Tell me!” Shawn demanded, raising his voice and giving it an edge. “I have to know for sure!”
“Okay! Okay!” Sana said. “I’m with you all the way.” She glanced around self-consciously at the nearest members of the tour group, several of whom were eyeing them curiously. Sana looked back at Shawn. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry!” she assured him in a whisper, but had she known what was to transpire several hours hence, she might not have been quite so confident.
11
11:34 A.M., TUESDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2008
NEW YORK CITY
(5:34 P.M., ROME)
How was lunch yesterday?” Jack asked. He’d stuck his head into Chet’s office, where his colleague was at his microscope studying a set of slides. Chet looked up and then pushed back from his desk.
“It wasn’t quite what I expected,” he confessed.
