Shrouded In Silence

14





Even though it was an early morning in late September, the temperature felt unusually warm. Jack and Michelle Townsend pulled their small Fiat into their reserved parking space behind their offices. Michelle noticed Jack kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and was studying her composure.

"You satisfied yet?" she said.

"Satisfied?" Jack frowned. "I don't understand."

"Yes, you do. You're checking me out to make sure I've got my head together."

"No!" Jack protested.

"Our little dinner the other night at Der Pallaro was about my stability. You're checking me out again this morning."

Jack stiffened. "That's not fair."

Michelle laughed. "I want you to know that I am hunky-dory, as my little mother use to say, just fine. You can relax."

Jack squirmed. "Of course. Sure you are."

Michelle giggled. "You are one funny man, Jack Townsend. I know you worry about me all the time." She squeezed his hand. "I want you to know that's no problem. Your love keeps me going. OK?"

Jack leaned over and gave her a kiss. "You bet. Let's go."

Slamming the car doors shut, the couple started up the walkway holding hands, teasing, laughing while swinging briefcases at their sides. Jack pointed ahead. "Looks like a crowd of people milling around our front door."

"What would anybody be doing out here at this early hour?" Michelle ask. "Aren't a couple of guys bending over something in the grass?"

"I-I don't know." Jack stopped. "Good heavens! Someone is on the ground!"

Michelle dropped her briefcase. "God forbid! That's a man lying in the grass!"

"Stay here until I see what's going on," Jack said forcefully. "I mean it. Stay exactly where you are. I'll be back."

Michelle felt her anxieties starting to build. A black form sprawled in the grass looked like a priest from the church. Her heart started to pound and fear began grabbing at her throat.

Jack broke into a trot to get to the front of the white house.

Dov Sharon and Father Donald Blake stood behind a group of men gathered around the porch. Several policemen were kneeling over the figure lying on the ground. Only then did Jack discover a pool of blood spreading from beneath the body.

"It's Father Raffello," Dov said. "I found his body when I arrived this morning. I immediately called the police."

"Stabbed," Father Blake added. "I just happened to be in this area when the story broke. "I got here shortly after the police arrived. Nasty business."

Jack covered his mouth and groaned. "No! It can't be. How could anyone kill such a kind old priest of the church?"

"We're not sure," Father Blake said. "My hunch is that he caught a thief breaking into your offices. A struggle resulted and the assailant killed the priest. Rigor mortis has already set in, so the stabbing must have occurred in the middle of the night."

Jack looked back at Michelle and motioned for her to stay put. "Lord, help us! We don't have anything of value in that office that a thief would kill for. Books and manuscripts. Some work lying around. But nothing a common thief could trade in for much return and certainly not for a human life."

The priest put his arm around Jack's shoulder and pulled him farther to the back. "We've got to think this assault through carefully. I told you the other day that the publicity in the paper had problems. Now the bubble's burst. I'm sure this murder is tied to what happened in the subway explosion. You're underestimating your standing with someone who hates Americans. My hunch is that this is another example of hostility toward Yanks. I think poor Father Raffello simply got caught in the backlash of an attack. It's hard to say, but think again. What have you got in there that's worth stealing?"

Jack ran his hands through his hair. "We've been doing research at the Vatican Library but haven't made any breakthroughs. Dov's been working on a copy of the Sarajevo Haggadah, but his research is not worth much money either. I just don't know. I'm left completely mystified."

"Hmm," Father Blake stroked his chin. "Of course, no one would know what you've got in those offices, but they'd probably guess a great deal. Most of the folks around here assume that Americans keep bucket loads of money under their beds at night. See what I mean? You're vulnerable. Even though we don't know for sure, it still doesn't negate my hunch. You've got to be careful, Jack. I believe these people will come after you."

"Hey, what's going on?" Heavy-set Tony Mattei hurried up the walkway. "I heard that there was a killing over here."

"Yes," Jack said. "The priest in charge of the church was killed last night.

"Heaven help us!" Mattei rolled his eyes. "Serious business indeed."

Father Blake eyed him suspiciously. "How'd you find out?"

"When a priest is down?" Mattei puckered his lips and looked like the question was nonsense. "This is Rome! You think the report of a murdered priest doesn't spread like a flooding river? Of course, I heard! The word is everywhere."

A detective standing over the body got up and came over to the three men. "I'm Alfredo Pino with the police. As best we can determine, the murder happened outside of your offices, and the doors remained locked. No evidence of a forced entry. We don't see any problem with you going back, but you will need to use the back door and stay away from the entry as well as out of this front area. An ambulance will be here shortly to pick up the body, and our investigation will be going on all day. If you find anything amiss inside, we want to know at once.

"Of course," Jack said. "We will call you immediately if anything turns up."

"Excellent." Alfredo Pino walked away.

"Looks like we can get in," Jack said to Father Blake and Tony Mattei. "See you gentlemen later."

Jack led Michelle and Dov to the back of the house, but getting inside proved to be arduous. Small tables, chairs, and boxes had been stored in the kitchen, and no one ever came in the back way. Dov Sharon pushed on the door while Michelle stared silently at the ground. Once the door had been pried open, Jack cleared a path through the junk into their working area.

"Come on in," he called out. "I think we can get our house in order."

For several minutes no one spoke while they turned on lights and cleared their desks. Watching Michelle out of the corner of his eye, Jack could clearly see that she was deeply disturbed, but didn't want to talk about it as usual. Periodically, he peered out the window to follow the progress of the police. Eventually, medics rolled in a gurney and hauled Father Raffello away. Only then did he break the silence hovering over their offices.

"Let's meet in the conference room and consider where our work has taken us this morning," he said. "I know it's going to be difficult to function normally."

Michelle and Dov walked mechanically into the adjacent room and laid their notepads on the gnarled old table without saying a word. No one spoke for what felt like an eternity.

"I know working is nearly impossible under the circumstances, but I believe the best thing we can do is to continue," Jack said. "Activity will help us emotionally stay on track."

"Just a minute," Michelle interrupted him. "Dov, you're saying the man was dead when you arrived? You found him?"

Dov Sharon nodded his head.

Michelle stared intensely at the young man. "You didn't have any disagreements with Father Raffello? No problems?"

Dov's eyes narrowed. "None."

"OK," Jack interrupted the exchange. "Enough of questioning what happened. That's up to the police. Let's begin by reviewing what we found at the library yesterday. Dov?"

"Rosh Hashana begins tomorrow," Dov said. "So, I put in extra time yesterday and stumbled upon a most surprising find. During the first centuries of the Christian era, a Laterani family was involved with a number of important documents that the public doesn't know about. Their connection to the early church remains highly important, but the Roman Catholic Church is rather defensive about the materials attributed to the Lateranis. Behind these stories, I discovered that there's supposedly a book of some sort that the priests judiciously keep hidden in the Vatican Library. I don't know if this has any connection to what we are seeking, but it's an intriguing lead."

"Where's this hidden book located?" Jack asked.

"That's part of the riddle. Only a couple of their priests seem to know where it is, and believe me, they're not talking. I'm not even sure the pope knows about this story. It's that secret."

"How'd you find out?" Michelle asked.

"You aren't going to believe this," Dov said. "I was making my inquiries when I noticed that a peculiar old priest seemed particularly agitated about my requests for information. He got out of his chair and went hobbling back into the stacks. Because my questions bothered him, I followed the priest, staying on the other side of the rack of materials. Near the end of a long row of documents, another elderly priest was waiting for this guy. No one else was around so I simply eavesdropped. That's when I got the larger story."

"Fascinating," Jack said. "Any road signs we can follow?"

"Yes," Dov said. "Once Rosh Hashana is passed, I will give you a guided tour of that end of the library. By now, I imagine the old priest has my tag number and will be leery when I show up."

"Well!" Jack rubbed his hands together. "For a morning that has started out so badly, we are making important progress."



Dr. Albert Stein pulled the earphones from his head and readjusted his thick glasses. The transmitters that Burchel had installed the night before had worked even better than he had hoped. Equipped for reception, the van remained parked near to Santa Maria Church. Their conversation came through as clearly as if the three people had been sitting in the next room. While it had not answered many of his questions, it had been more than worth the trouble and expense. He now knew the name of the Laterani family. In fact, Laterani property had been part of building the first church in Rome, and in some way that he couldn't quite remember, a portion of the land had ended up in the estate of Constantine. It was exactly the sort of information he had hoped for.

Stein looked at his watch. Klaus Burchel still hadn't show up. Where was he? Burchel should have been here long before now. The young man had done well in installing the second MicroPower WM-1 transmitter, but not getting back to him in proper time signaled trouble. Could he be snorting cocaine again? Definitely. Whatever he was up to, Burchel would be in big trouble for his tardiness.

Stein looked around the van. His intention had been that Burchel would spend the day running a recorder to pick up the conversations. Since Klaus wasn't there, Stein had no choice but to stay in the stuffy van and listen. It was the kind of research that he never wanted to do.



With their early morning conference concluded, Dov Sharon gathered his papers and pushed them into a briefcase. "I'm going back to the Vatican Library to see what else I can find." He turned toward the door. "I hope to be back late this afternoon." Not looking at Michelle, Dov hurried out the door but said nothing else.

"I suppose you've got a good reason for offending our colleague?" Jack said in a flat unemotional voice that barely concealed his anger.

"I know you don't agree with me," Michelle said. "But I find it interesting that the person who found poor Father Raffello was Dov Sharon. I've told you before that I have suspicions about him."

"I think you're pushing the envelope, Michelle. There's not one shred of evidence that Dov has ever done anything wrong. He's simply a quiet studious type. OK?"

Michelle pushed back from the table, said nothing, and silently walked back to her desk.