Page 21 of Seizure


  Michael took a taxi from the hotel’s cabstand and gave the address of the Chancery of the Archdiocese to the driver. He sat back and tried to relax. He looked at his watch. It was almost six-thirty. He’d been caught behind the couple’s curtain for more than two hours! But it was a nightmare with a happy ending, as evidenced by the cold feel of the silver case in his pocket.

  Michael closed his eyes and reveled in thinking about the best time to call James Cardinal O’Rourke to explain the unfortunate development concerning the identities of the so-called couriers, followed by the problem’s ultimate resolution. Now that he was safe, he found himself smiling at what he’d had to endure. Hiding behind drapes in a hotel room while the couple made love was so preposterous as to defy belief. In some ways, he wished he could tell the cardinal, but he knew he couldn’t. The only person he would ultimately tell would be his confessor, and even that was not going to be easy.

  Knowing the cardinal’s schedule, Michael thought it best to wait until ten-thirty P.M. Italian time to make the call. It was during the predinner hour that the cardinal was the most accessible. During the call, what Michael was going to enjoy particularly was implying rather than directly telling the cardinal that it had been he who had by his own ingenuity single-handedly salvaged what could have been an embarrassment for the church in general and the cardinal in particular.

  By the time the taxi pulled up in front of the chancery, Michael felt almost back to normal. Although his pulse was still rapid, he was no longer perspiring, and his breathing was entirely regular. The only problem was that his shirt and underclothes were damp from the ordeal, making him feel chilled.

  Michael first went to see Valerio Garibaldi, whom he had befriended back when he’d attended the North American College in Rome, but he was informed that his friend had left the building on an official errand. Michael then walked down to Luigi Mansoni’s office. He knocked on the open door, and the monsignor motioned for him to come in and sit down. The cleric was on the phone. He quickly terminated the call and directed his full attention to Michael. Switching from Italian to English, he asked how Michael had fared. From his unblinking stare, it was apparent he was intensely interested.

  “Quite well, considering,” Michael said obliquely.

  “Considering what?”

  “Considering what I had to go through.” Triumphantly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the embossed silver case. Carefully, he placed it on Luigi’s desk before pushing it toward the monsignor. He sat back with a self-satisfied smile on his thin face.

  Luigi’s eyebrows arched. He reached out, carefully lifted the case, and held it between both his palms. “I’m surprised they were willing to give it up,” he said. “They seemed like two very passionate people.”

  “Your assessment is more accurate than you know,” Michael said. “But they are not yet aware that they have surrendered the sample back to the church. And to be honest, I did not so much as talk with them.”

  A slight smile dimpled Luigi’s puffy face. “I’m thinking perhaps I shouldn’t ask how you have managed to get it.”

  “You shouldn’t,” Michael advised.

  “Well, then, that’s how we will proceed. For my part, I will merely return the sample to Professor Ballasari, and that will be it.” Luigi released the latch and lifted the case’s cover. He then started while staring into its bare innards. After a few quick glances back and forth between Michael and the case, he said: “I’m confused. The sample is not in here!”

  “No! Don’t say that!” Michael sat bolt upright.

  “I’m afraid I must,” Luigi responded. He turned the empty case around and held it up so Michael could see.

  “Oh, no!” Michael cried. He grabbed his head with both hands and slumped forward until his elbows rested on his knees. “I don’t believe it!”

  “They must have removed the sample.”

  “Obviously,” Michael responded, as he exhaled. He sounded depressed.

  “You are distraught.”

  “More than you would guess.”

  “Certainly all is not lost. Perhaps now you should approach the Americans directly and demand the sample’s return.”

  Michael rubbed his face forcibly and then exhaled. He looked at Luigi. “I don’t think that is an option, not after what I did to get the empty case. And even if I did, your assessment of their character is most likely correct. They would refuse. My sense is that they have a specific plan for the sample, to which they are committed.”

  “Do you know when they are leaving?”

  “Tomorrow morning at five after seven on Air France. They are flying to London via Paris.”

  “Well, there is another option,” Luigi said, tenting his fingers. “There is a sure way to get the sample back. I happen to be related on my mother’s side of the family to a gentleman by the name of Carlo Ricciardi. He is a first cousin. He also happens to be the Soprintendente Archeologico del Piedmonte, meaning the regional director, of NPPA, which stands for Nucleo Protezione Patrimonio Artistico e Archeologico.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “It is not surprising, since their activities are mostly carried out sub rosa, but they are a special corps of the carabinieri responsible for the safety of Italy’s vast treasure of historical monuments and objects, which certainly includes the Shroud of Turin, despite the Holy See being its rightful owner. If I were to call Carlo, he would have no trouble retrieving the sample.”

  “What would you say? I mean, you gave the Americans the sample; it’s not like they stole it. In fact, since you gave it to them in a public place, an enterprising Italian lawyer could probably even produce a witness.”

  “I would not suggest the sample was stolen. I would merely say that the sample had been obtained under false pretenses, which apparently is the case. But more importantly, I would state that no authorization had been given for the sample to be taken out of Italy. In fact, I would add that removal of the sample from Italy had been strictly forbidden, and yet I had information the Americans were planning to do so tomorrow morning.”

  “And these archeological police would have the authority to confiscate it.”

  “Most definitely! They are a very powerful and independent agency. To give you an example, a number of years ago your then President Reagan asked the then Italian president if the recently found ancient bronzes pulled from the sea off Reggio di Calabria could be brought to the Los Angeles Olympics as the game’s icons. The Italian president agreed, but the regional Soprintendente Archeologico said no, and the statues stayed in Italy.”

  “Okay, I’m impressed,” Michael said. “Does the agency have its own uniformed enforcement division?”

  “They have their own plainclothes ispettori, or inspectors, but for general enforcement they use either uniformed carabinieri or Guardia di Finanza officers. At the airport, it would probably be the Guardia di Finanza, although if they are acting under Carlo’s specific orders, the carabinieri most likely would participate as well.”

  “If you make the call, what will happen to the Americans?”

  “Tomorrow morning, when they check in for their international flight, they will be arrested, jailed, and eventually tried. In Italy, charges of this nature are considered very serious. But they would not be tried right away. Such cases move slowly. But, the sample will be returned to us straightaway, and the problem will be solved.”

  “Make the call!” Michael said simply. He was disappointed, but all was not lost. Obviously, he would not be able to take credit for solving the problem with the shroud sample single-handedly. On the other hand, he could still make sure the cardinal knew he had been an indispensable participant.

  A contented belch rumbled from the pit of Daniel’s stomach to emerge between his puffed-up cheeks. His hand clasped his face in a halfhearted attempt to conceal his impish smile.

  Stephanie cast him one of what she considered her most scornful looks. She never thought it was funny when he gave vent to hi
s mischievously juvenile side.

  Daniel laughed. “Hey, relax. We had a great dinner and a great bottle of Barolo. Let’s not ruin it!”

  “I’ll relax after I check out our room,” Stephanie said. “I think I have the right to be on edge after someone pawed through my belongings earlier.”

  Daniel keyed the door and pushed it open. Stephanie stepped over the threshold and let her eyes wander. Daniel started to go past her into the room. She held him back with her arm.

  “I’ve got to use the bathroom,” Daniel complained.

  “We had visitors!”

  “Oh! How can you tell?”

  Stephanie pointed toward the bureau. “The silver case is gone.”

  “Gone it is,” Daniel said. “I guess you were right all along.”

  “Of course I was right,” Stephanie responded. She walked over and put her hand on the bureau where the silver case had been, as if she didn’t believe it was gone. “But so were you. They must have been after the shroud sample.”

  “Well, I have to give you full credit for your idea of taking the sample out and leaving the case behind.”

  “Thank you,” Stephanie said. “But first, let’s make sure it wasn’t just that they thought the case was something valuable.” She went over to her suitcase and again checked her jewelry case. Everything was still in it, including the cash.

  Daniel did the same. The jewelry, cash, and traveler’s checks were all accounted for. He straightened up. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  “Get out of Italy. Never in a million years did I ever think I’d feel that way.” Stephanie collapsed on the bed, coat and all, and stared up at the multicolored glass chandelier.

  “I’m talking about tonight.”

  “You mean whether to change hotels or rooms?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Let’s just stay here and use the dead bolt.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” Daniel said as he stepped out of his pants. Holding them by the cuffs, he arranged them to preserve the creases. “I cannot wait to climb into bed,” he added, as he eyed Stephanie, sprawled out on her back. He then went to the closet and hung up his trousers. Holding on to the jamb, he stepped out of his loafers.

  “It would be a humongous effort to move, and I’m bushed,” Stephanie said. With great effort, she got back on her feet and shook off her coat. “Besides, I’m not confident whoever has been plaguing us wouldn’t be able to find us wherever we went. Let’s just not leave this room until we’re ready to leave the hotel.” She pushed past Daniel and hung up her coat.

  “Fine by me,” Daniel said, as he unbuttoned his shirt. “In the morning, we can even skip trying to have something to eat here at the hotel. Instead, we can grab a bite of breakfast at one of those coffee bars at the airport. They all seem to have a selection of pastries. The concierge said we should be there around six, which means we are going to have to get up pretty damn early, even if we don’t try to eat before leaving.”

  “Excellent idea,” Stephanie said. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to getting to the airport, checking in, and getting on that plane.”

  thirteen

  4:45 A.M., Tuesday, February 26, 2002

  Despite the hefty security lock on the door, Stephanie slept poorly. Every noise from inside the hotel or from outside had caused a minor panic reaction, and there had been a lot of noises. At one point just after midnight, when guests had keyed and entered a neighboring room, Stephanie had sat up, ready for battle, certain the people were coming into her room. She’d sat up so quickly that she’d pulled the covers from Daniel, whose response was to yank them back angrily.

  After two A.M., Stephanie finally fell asleep. But it was far from a restful slumber, and it was a source of relief when Daniel shook her shoulder to wake her after what had seemed to her to be about fifteen minutes.

  “What time is it?” she asked groggily. She pushed herself up on one elbow.

  “It’s five A.M. Rise and shine! We should be out in a taxi in a half hour.”

  “Rise and shine” had been a phrase her mother had used to wake her when Stephanie had been a teenager, and since Stephanie had been an Olympic-class sleeper who hated to wake up, the phrase had always bothered her. Daniel knew the story and used the expression deliberately to provoke her, which, of course, was an effective way to wake her up. “I’m awake,” she said irritably when he shook her again. She eyed her tormentor, but he merely smiled before briefly mussing her hair with the palm of his hand. The gesture was something else Stephanie found irritating, even when her hair was in disarray, as it certainly was at that moment; it was demeaning, and she had told Daniel such on several occasions. It made her feel as if he considered her a child or, worse yet, a pet.

  Stephanie watched Daniel go into the bathroom. She rolled over on her back and winced at the light. The multicolored glass chandelier was blazing above her. Outside, it was still as dark as pitch. She took a breath. It seemed as if the only thing she wanted to do in the whole world was to go back to sleep. But then the cobwebs in her mind began to clear, and she thought about how much she wanted to get on the plane with the shroud fibers and get out of Italy.

  “Are you up?” Daniel shouted from the bathroom.

  “I’m up!” Stephanie shouted back. She had no compunction about fibbing, not after how merciless he’d been in waking her up. She stretched, yawned, and then sat up. After shaking off a brief sensation akin to nausea, she got to her feet.

  A shower worked wonders for both of them. Despite Daniel’s acting to the contrary, he had been far from feeling chipper initially and had had almost as much trouble getting out of bed after the alarm went off as Stephanie. Yet by the time they had gotten out of the bathroom, they were both in high spirits in anticipation of getting to the airport. They dressed and packed with great efficiency. By quarter past five, Daniel called the front desk to arrange for a taxi and to get someone to come get their bags.

  “It’s hard to believe we’ll be in Nassau by late this afternoon,” Daniel said, as he closed and locked his suitcase. The day’s itinerary was to fly to London on Air France via Paris, connect to British Airways, and then fly on directly to New Providence Island in the Bahamas.

  “What I find difficult to comprehend is that we’ll be going from winter to summer in a single day. It seems like ages since I’ve been in a pair of shorts and a summer top. I’m psyched.”

  The bellman arrived and took their luggage down to the lobby on a garment cart with instructions that it should be loaded into the taxi. While Stephanie dried her hair, Daniel stood in the bathroom doorway.

  “I think we should tell the manager about our intruder,” Stephanie said over the sound of the hotel’s hair dryer.

  “What would that accomplish?”

  “Not much, I suppose, but I’d think they’d want to know.”

  Daniel looked at his watch. “I think it’s a moot point. We don’t have time. It’s almost five-thirty. We need to be on our way.”

  “Why don’t you go down and check out,” Stephanie suggested. “I’ll be down in two minutes.”

  “Nassau, here we come,” Daniel said as he left.

  The phone’s insistent jangle yanked Michael Maloney from the depths of sleep. He had the phone to his ear before he was totally awake. It was Father Peter Fleck, Cardinal O’Rourke’s other personal secretary.

  “Are you awake?” Peter asked. “Sorry to be calling you at such an hour.”

  “What time is it?” Michael asked. He fumbled for the bedside light, then tried to make out what time it was on his watch.

  “It’s twenty-five minutes before midnight here in New York. What time is it there in Italy?”

  “It is five-thirty-five in the morning.”

  “Sorry, but you told me when you called this afternoon that it was imperative you speak with the cardinal as soon as possible, and His Eminence has just returned to the residence. Let me put him on the line.”

&nbsp
; Michael rubbed his face and patted his cheek to wake himself. A moment later, James Cardinal O’Rourke’s gentle voice sounded in Michael’s ear. He too apologized for calling at such an inconvenient hour and explained that he’d been forced to remain at an interminable function with the governor, which had started in the late afternoon.

  “I’m sorry I must add to your burdens,” Michael said, with some trepidation. He was not fooled by the powerful man’s humble graciousness. Behind the apparent benevolence, Michael was well aware of how ruthless he could be, especially to a subordinate who was either foolish or unlucky enough to displease him. At the same time, to those who pleased him, he could be extraordinarily generous.

  “Are you implying there has been a problem in Turin?” the cardinal questioned.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Michael said. “The two people whom Senator Butler sent to receive the sample of the shroud are both biomolecular scientists.”

  “I see,” James commented.

  “Their names are Dr. Daniel Lowell and Dr. Stephanie D’Agostino.”

  “I see,” James repeated.

  “From your instructions,” Michael continued, “I knew you would be distressed about this development because of its implications about unauthorized testing. The good news is that by working quickly with Monsignor Mansoni, I have managed to arrange that the sample will be returned forthwith.”

  “Oh,” James said simply. There was an uncomfortable pause. As far as Michael was concerned, this was hardly the response he was expecting. By this point in the conversation, he counted on a definitively positive reaction from the cardinal.