“I like the fact that we can lock up,” Shawn said.
“There are lockable lockers inside as well,” Jack said as they entered the room.
He and Shawn set the ossuary down on the large center table.
“My goodness,” Sana exclaimed. She looked through the glazed door into the gowning room and then through the door beyond, to the laboratory itself. “I can see a brand new Applied Biosystems three thousand one hundred XL from here. This is terrific.” They all took off their coats and other outerwear and stowed it all in the lockers, except for Shawn’s backpack. He put that on the table next to the ossuary.
“The time has finally arrived,” Shawn exclaimed, eagerly rubbing his hands together and eyeing the ossuary. “I can’t believe I’ve been able to keep my hands off this thing for four days. It’s all your fault, Sana, dear.”
“You’ll be thanking me to no end if we can salvage some mitochondrial DNA,” Sana said. “It will add a whole new dimension to this discovery.” Shawn zipped open his backpack and pulled out an extension cord and a hair dryer, then a small hammer and chisel.
“How about we all gown up and put on hats and latex gloves,” Sana suggested. “I don’t want to leave even the slightest chance of DNA contamination.”
“Fine with me,” Shawn said, glancing at Jack.
“Absolutely,” Jack said. “But first you guys have to sign the indemnity waiver.” After the husband and wife signed all the legal papers absolving the OCME from any damages on every front known to man, the three went into the gowning room with ever-increasing anticipation.
“When I first thought about going into archaeology, this is the kind of experience, of significantly adding to history, I thought would be a routine event,” Shawn said, pulling on his gown. “Unfortunately, it is not, so now I’m enjoying every second of it.”
“In molecular biology, we have experiences like this all the time,” Sana said, snapping on her gloves.
“Really?” Shawn questioned.
“I’m joking,” Sana said. “Come on, you guys! Both of you know that science is a slow, plodding affair with only very rare eureka moments. I have to confess, I’ve never before felt this excited in my career, not even close.”
When all three were gowned, gloved, hooded, and masked, Shawn pushed back into the outer room. Plugging in the hair dryer, he turned it on high. Using it like a blowtorch, he directed the hot air at the caramel-colored wax- filled groove between the ossuary’s side and its top. The wax eventually softened enough for him to insert the chisel. After a few taps with the hammer, the chisel hit rock.
“This is going to take a wee bit longer than I expected. The ossuary’s top is rabbeted.
Sorry, guys!”
“Take your time!” Sana said.
“Don’t hurry on my account,” Jack said.
Slowly, Shawn inched around the entire periphery of the ossuary, first softening the wax with the hair dryer, then poking in with the chisel and tapping it with the hammer until it hit up against the rabbet. When he’d gotten all the way around, he pushed in the chisel and now tried to rotate it. There was no give. Moving the chisel along in the groove, he tried again. Nothing. A new location, and nothing again. Another new location, and there was a slight cracking sound.
“I think I could feel some movement,” Shawn said. He was encouraged but concerned that if he applied too much torque, he could snap off a piece of the ossuary’s top. The ossuary had been intact for two millennia, and he wanted it to stay that way.
“Can’t you speed this up,” Sana said, beside herself with excitement. From her perspective it seemed that Shawn was dragging this part out unnecessarily.
Shawn paused and glanced up at his wife. “You’re hardly being helpful,” he snapped.
Repositioning himself, he went back to work with the chisel. There was no telling how long it would take, or if it would work at all.
Just when he paused to stop and rethink the situation, there was another cracking noise, and Shawn’s heart skipped a beat. Quickly, he pulled out the chisel, expecting to see a crack in the limestone, but there was none. He ran his hand along the edge to see if he could feel a crack that for some reason he could not see, but there was no discontinuity.
Gingerly, he reinserted the chisel and tentatively began to rotate it. To his relief, the top, in its entirety, lifted off the base. It was free! He looked at the others and nodded. “This is it,” he said, grasping both ends of the top with his hands. He gently lifted it high enough for the rabbet to clear the sides and placed the top on the table. Then they leaned over and peered into the ossuary that had been hermetically sealed for two thousand years.
21
9:48 A.M., SATURDAY, DECEMBER 6, 2008
NEW YORK CITY
Dear Lord, I beseech You,” James prayed. “Show me the way to deal with the ossuary.” He was in the exquisite private chapel dedicated to Saint John the Apostle on the third floor of the archbishop’s residence, kneeling on an antique French prie-dieu beneath an ebony wall plaque.
On the plaque was a superbly rendered image of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin.
The Mother of God was standing on clouds with two cherubs at her side. Attached to the plaque’s base was a finely wrought sterling-silver holy-water font. James had always loved the piece, and that morning its image had particular significance.
“I never question Your will, but I fear that my capabilities involving the task You have placed in my unworthy hands may not be sufficient. I firmly believe that whatever remains might be found in the ossuary are not those of Your Virgin Mother. It is my humble wish that there will be no possibility anyone will believe whatever relics are found are those of a woman. Only then may I feel capable of dealing with this problem.
I also pray that my friend Shawn Daughtry will disavow any and all association he might have originally felt between the ossuary and Your Blessed Mother.” Crossing himself, he rose, saying a fervent “May Your will be done. Amen.” James’s torment had made sleep difficult, and his eyes had popped open that morning before five. Rousing himself from the warmth of his narrow metal bed, he’d prayed a similar prayer to the prayer he’d just voiced in the chapel, using another more simple prie-dieu in his ascetic, cold bedroom.
From then on, the morning had been similar to other Saturday mornings. He’d read his breviary, celebrated Mass with his staff, and breakfasted with his two secretaries. There had been a short ten-minute interruption when Shawn and Sana arrived to pick up the ossuary. James had watched with mild distress as Shawn and Father Maloney carried the box up from the basement and placed it in the trunk of a dirty yellow cab. When the trunk had been slammed shut, James had winced. Even though he trusted the relic did not contain the bones of the Virgin, the rough treatment seemed sacrilegious.
After the Daughtrys had left, James had returned to his private quarters to change into his full regalia as the day was to include an official visit at the Church of Our Lady of the Holy Rosary. At that point, fully dressed, he had gone into the tiny chapel.
With some effort, James got to his feet. Then, dipping his fingers into the holy water, he made the sign of the cross before descending to his office on the floor below. Checking his e-mail was part of his morning routine. Just as his computer monitor awoke, his phone rang, drawing his eyes to the caller ID screen. When he saw it was Jack Stapleton, he snatched up the receiver. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite fast enough. He got a dial tone instead of Jack’s voice, meaning Father Maloney or Father Karlin had beaten him to the punch. Impatiently, he drummed his fingertips on his blotter. The intercom buzzed a moment later.
“It’s a Dr. Jack Stapleton,” Father Karlin said. “Are you available?”
“Yes, thank you,” James said. But he didn’t answer immediately, knowing that Jack’s call meant the ossuary was now open. Reciting another quick prayer, James eyed the small blinking light. He suddenly felt less confident, as if he somehow knew the Good Lord meant for his torment to continue.
Taking a deep breath, James answered softly.
“Is that you, James?” Jack asked.
“It is I,” James said in a depressed tone. He could hear laughter in the background and excited conversation, erasing any last hope in his mind about what he was about to learn.
“I’m not sure you want to hear this,” Jack said. “But—” James could tell that Jack had been cut off by the ecstatic Shawn, who was apparently fighting with Jack for the phone. James could clearly hear Shawn say, “Is that
