At the guarded entry to Cardinal Santelli’s office, Donovan and Charlotte were quickly cleared and escorted by a Swiss Guard into the antechamber where Father Martin stood from his desk to greet them.
He wasn’t thrilled about the cardinal’s decision to meet here. What was Santelli’s motive? To illustrate what was at stake should she actually suspect something?
“Good to see you again, James.” Donovan shook the young priest’s hand, trying not to focus on the dark circles under his eyes. He introduced Charlotte, then asked if Martin could buzz the lab to see if Dr. Bersei had arrived.
Martin obliged and circled behind the desk to make the call. The ring tones chimed for fifteen seconds with no response. He shook his head. “Sorry. No one’s picking up.”
Donovan turned to Charlotte. “I guess you’re on your own,” he said apologetically.
The intercom on Martin’s desk suddenly came to life. “James,” a rough voice tore through the tiny speaker. “I asked you for that report ten minutes ago. What the hell are you waiting for?”
The priest rolled his eyes and smiled tightly. “Pardon me for just a moment.” He leaned over and pressed the intercom’s button. “I have it right here, Eminence. I apologize for the delay. Also, Father Donovan and Dr. Hennesey have arrived.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Send them in!”
Angrily snatching a folder off the desk, Father Martin led them into Santelli’s office.
Inside, the cardinal was seated behind his desk, wrapping up a call. He acknowledged the visitors with a nod and motioned to the folder in Martin’s hand. After the priest handed it over, Santelli waved him away as if he were a mosquito.
“He’s all yours,” Martin whispered to Donovan as he retreated to the antechamber.
Seeing Santelli’s intimidating figure behind the desk, Charlotte suddenly realized that she’d been so preoccupied with Bersei’s claims and Conte’s creepy spy room that she’d failed to discuss etiquette with Donovan. Ending the call, the cardinal stood, tall and rigid, his face pleasant yet firm. Coming round his hulking desk, she could have sworn he exhibited the telltale signs of someone who’d recently stopped drinking, though there was no denying he had powerful presence.
“Good morning, Father Donovan.” The cardinal extended his right hand as if to grasp an invisible cane.
“Eminence.” Donovan stepped forward and bowed slightly to kiss Santelli’s sacred ring, hiding his disdain for the superior gesture. “Eminence Antonio Carlo Santelli, may I introduce you to Dr. Charlotte Hennesey, a renowned geneticist from Phoenix, Arizona.”
“Ah, yes,” Santelli was grinning widely. “I’ve heard much about you, Dr. Hennesey.”
A look of panic came over Charlotte as he closed in for a greeting. Perhaps sensing it, he offered her a standard handshake. Relieved, she shook Santelli’s enormous paw. She sensed the musky smell of cologne. “An honor to meet you, Eminence.”
“Thank you, my dear. You’re very kind.” Momentarily distracted by her beauty, he held her hand for a long moment before letting go. “Come, let us sit.” Cupping his hand on her shoulder, he motioned across the office to a circular mahogany conference table.
Santelli kept in step with Charlotte, his hand still connected to her shoulder, Father Donovan in tow.
Donovan was amazed how Santelli could turn on the charm when required...a wolf in shepherd’s clothing.
“I’m anxious to discuss this tremendous project you’ve been working on,” Santelli stated exuberantly. “Father Donovan’s told me many exciting things about your findings.”
When they had all settled into their leather armchairs, Donovan provided a quick background to bring Santelli up to speed on the relics that had been presented to the scientists. Then he apologized on behalf of Dr. Bersei who could not attend the meeting due to a personal crisis.
The cardinal looked alarmed. “Nothing serious, I hope?”
The librarian was hoping the same thing. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“That means you have the floor, Dr. Hennesey.”
Charlotte handed Santelli a neatly bound report and gave Donovan a second copy. Flipping open her laptop, she waited for it to power up. “Our first order of business was a pathological analysis of the skeleton . . .” she began, allowing her professional persona to take over.
Step-by-step she walked the two men through a PowerPoint slideshow of crisp, enlarged color photos of the skeletal aberrations: the gouges, fractured knees, damaged wrists and feet. “On the basis of what you see here, both Dr. Bersei and myself concluded that this male specimen interred in the ossuary—who was otherwise in perfect health—died in his early thirties as a result of... execution.”
Santelli managed to look surprised. “Execution?”
She glanced to Donovan who seemed equally puzzled, but nodded for her to continue. Directing her eyes back to the cardinal she got quickly to the point. “He was crucified.”
The words hung in the air for a long moment.
Santelli leaned forward to put both elbows on the table and held the geneticist’s gaze. “I see.”
“And the forensic evidence unequivocally supports this,” she continued. “Furthermore, we also found these objects in a concealed compartment inside the ossuary.” Determined to steady her hands, Charlotte removed the three separate plastic bags from her carrying bag. Laying the first one down, she tried not to let the spikes hit too hard against the burnished tabletop. Next came the sealed bag with the two coins. The third contained the metal cylinder.
Santelli and Donovan examined each object closely.
