Sign of the Cross

300s, still a thousand years before the Great Schism occurred.’

Boyd stared at the center carving, amazed at its vividness. It was so damn lifelike he could practically hear its laughter. ‘If that be the case, why is the figure on the keystone laughing? Hmmm? The Romans killed the Son of God but eventually realized their mistake. Then, in a moment of atonement, they converted to the Nazarene’s religion and commemorated his death by ridiculing it with a laughing statue… Somehow I don’t think that would be appropriate.’

‘Probably not,’ she admitted.

Determined, Maria focused her eyes on the archway and tried to uncover the connection between the bust and the images of Christ that surrounded it. To complicate things further, the longer she looked at the laughing man’s face, the more certain she was that she had seen it before. ‘Professore, is it just me, or do you recognize his face?’

‘I was going to ask you the same thing. He does look bloody familiar, doesn’t he?’

Maria racked her brain, going over hundreds of historical figures in her mind. ‘Could he be famous like Octavian or Trajan? Maybe even Constantine I, the first Christian emperor?’

‘I’d need a guide book to know for sure. This could be anyone.’

She grimaced, realizing that Boyd was right. ‘Oh well, it’ll come to me. I might not be great with ancient Latin, but I never forget a face.’

‘If you figure it out, be sure to let me know. I’d love to understand the juxtaposition between the sculpture and the carvings. The subtext of the two truly baffles me. What in the world was this artist trying to say about Christ?’

As they moved forward, Boyd’s light trickled into the colossal chamber, revealing an expanse that was nearly three times as large as the room they’d entered upstairs. Measuring over sixty feet by thirty feet, the massive space was filled with dozens of hand-carved stone chests of varying shapes and sizes, each one possessing a historical Roman scene. And the artwork didn’t end there. The walls of the chamber were adorned with a series of first- century frescoes, each remarkably similar in theme and color to the paintings that they’d seen in the original room.

‘My God!’ Boyd gasped. ‘Will you look at this place? The engineers of ancient Rome were truly ahead of their time. As I mentioned earlier, a large number of their structures remain standing today. Still, we’re quite lucky this place was never disturbed by drilling, soil erosion, or even the shifting of tectonic plates. One small earthquake would’ve covered this site forever.’

Maria frowned at the possibility. ‘What do you say I do some more filming before something like that happens?’

‘That sounds great, my dear. That’ll give me a chance to examine these chests.’

With the touch of a button, she began her work, documenting the chamber from left to right while slowly moving toward the back corner. She started with the frescoes, concentrating on one colorful image after another before shifting her focus toward the vaulted ceiling and the dozens of chests that filled the room.

Little did she know that one of them contained the most important discovery of all time.

A secret that would change her life — and the history of the world — forever.

9

Father Erik Jansen. From the Vatican. Crucified. At Hamlet’s castle.

Nick Dial knew the media was going to have a field day with this story unless he was able to eliminate the Shakespeare angle right away. There was nothing he could do with the religious aspect — a priest being crucified was hard to explain — but eliminating Hamlet was a possibility.

Unfortunately, Dial didn’t know much about literature, so he decided to call Henri Toulon, the assistant director of the Homicide Division. Toulon was a wine-loving Frenchman who had the ability to speak at length on every subject under the sun. Whether it was quantum physics, soccer statistics, or a recipe for fondue, Toulon was the man with the answers.

Dial said, ‘Hey, Henri, it’s Nick. Do you have a minute?’

Toulon answered with a hoarse, ‘But of course.’

‘Man, are you feeling all right? You sound a bit under the weather.’

‘Oui, I’m fine. It was a late night. Again.’

Dial smiled, not the least bit surprised that Toulon was hungover. His late-night carousing was one of the main reasons that Dial had been promoted ahead of him. That plus Interpol’s desire to have an American as the head of a division, a rarity in the European-dominated organization. ‘Out of curiosity, how much do you know about Shakespeare?’

‘More than his own mother.’

‘And what about the Bible?’

‘More than Dan Brown. Why do you ask?’

Dial filled him in on the case and told him what he was looking for. Why was Jansen kidnapped in Rome but killed in Denmark?

Toulon answered, ‘Religion played an important role in Shakespeare’s world, yet I can’t think of a single character who was crucified. That would have been heresy back then.’

‘Then ignore the crucifixion and focus on the murder. Besides the location, can you think of any connections to Hamlet?’

‘The thing that grabs my attention is the sign above the cross. Whoever painted that was brilliant. Is “FATHER” referring to God, a character in Shakespeare’s play, or the killer’s actual father? At first glance, I’d assume it’s referring to Hamlet. The plot follows Prince Hamlet as he avenges the death of the king — a son getting revenge for his father. Sounds perfect to me. Until you examine the method of execution. In my mind, crucifixion screams of Christ, not Shakespeare. If the killer cared about Hamlet, he would have chosen the sword.’

‘So this is about religion?’

‘Not necessarily. It could be about the killer’s father or the victim’s father. But that’s why the sign is so brilliant. You’ll have to track down all these possibilities, whether you like it or not. For all we know, the killer is simply messing with you.’

‘Maybe. Or it could be about something else, something you missed.’

‘Such as?’

Dial smiled, glad that Toulon didn’t know everything. ‘The victim was a priest. For all we know the sign could be about him. Father Erik Jansen.’

‘Which only adds to the brilliance of the sign. It’s memorable yet ambiguous. The perfect way to attract attention without giving anything away.’

‘That’s why I decided to call you. I figured I’d fight brilliance with brilliance.’

Toulon grinned. ‘I’ll tell you what, give me a day or two, and I’ll see what I can find. Who knows? Maybe I missed something else.’

‘Thanks, Henri, I’d appreciate that. Before you go, though, I have one more question, this one about religion. Do you have any idea what Jesus’s cross looked like?’

Toulon took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his gray hair, which was pulled back in his trademark ponytail. He desperately wanted a cigarette but wasn’t allowed to smoke inside Interpol, even though sometimes he did just because he was French and fuck them if they didn’t like it. ‘You’ll be happy to know you’re not alone. Most people are confused about his cross. Tell me, what kind of cross did they use in Denmark?’

‘Wooden, made out of some kind of oak.’

‘That’s not what I meant. Was it Latin? Tau? Greek? Russian?’

‘Honestly, I have no idea. They’re all Greek to me.’

Toulon rolled his eyes. Why did Americans have to make a joke out of everything? ‘A Greek cross is easy to spot. It looks like a plus sign. All four of its arms are the exact same length.’

‘Not Jansen’s. His looked like a capital T. The horizontal beam was way at the top.’

Toulon whistled softly. ‘Then they got it right.’

‘They got it right? What do you mean by that?’