of the skeleton’s telling signs of crucifixion—Charlotte sensed that maybe
he had no advance knowledge of the ossuary’s contents. She noted that the
bronze cylinder seemed to capture his attention more than anything else, a
lingering concern bleeding into his puzzled gaze. Trying to gauge Bersei’s
take on the matter, she felt that he too was catching the same vibe from
Donovan.
“I’ll tell you, Father Donovan,” Bersei added, “this is one of the most
remarkable archaeological discoveries I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I’m not sure
what sum the Vatican has paid to acquire all this, but I’d say you have a
priceless relic here.”
Watching the priest closely, Charlotte saw that Donovan’s expression
showed that he was pleased, but even more so, relieved.
“I’m sure my superiors will be delighted to hear that,” the priest said,
his eyes wandering once more over to the skeleton. “I don’t want to rush
things, but do you think you might be able to formally present your findings on Friday?”
Bersei looked over to Charlotte to see if she concurred with the idea.
She nodded agreeably. Turning his attention back to Donovan, he said, “It
will take some preparation, but we can do it.”
“Very good,” Donovan said.
“If there’s nothing else, Father,” Bersei said, “I’ll have to be on my way.
Don’t want to keep my wife waiting.”
“Please, don’t let me keep you,” the priest said. “I very much appreciate
both of you taking the time to update me.”
Bersei disappeared into the break room to hang his lab coat. “He’s quite the family man,” Charlotte whispered to Donovan. “His
wife is very lucky.”
“Oh yes,” Donovan agreed. “Dr. Bersei is very kind ...a gentle soul.
He’s been quite helpful to us over the years.” The priest paused for a moment and added, “Tell me, Dr. Hennesey, have you ever visited Rome
before?”
“No. And honestly, I haven’t really had time to venture across the
river yet.”
“Can I suggest a tour for you?”
“I’d love that.” She genuinely appreciated the priest’s hospitality. Living
the cloistered life of a cleric, he was quick to offer activities that were
geared to a lone traveler.
“If you don’t have plans this evening, I’d highly recommend the Night
Walking Tour,” he energetically offered. “It begins at Piazza Navona, just
across the Ponte Sant’ Angelo Bridge, at six-thirty. Takes about three hours.
The tour guides are fantastic and you’ll get a great overview of all the major sites in the old city.” He peered down at his watch. “If you leave directly
from here, you can make it on time.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Normally you have to book these tours two days in advance,” he explained, “especially this time of year. But if you’re interested, let me make
a call to reserve you a ticket.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she replied.
Bersei was just emerging from the break room. “Dr. Hennesey, Father
Donovan, I wish you both a good evening,” he said eyeing them in turn
and bowing slightly. Then he turned to Charlotte and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, same time. Make sure not to stay out too late.”
37
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