A black-and-white, photo-negative version of the face on the Shroud of Turin. The actual image on the Shroud is a faint reddish-brown. The dramatic negative was first seen in 1898, when Italian photographer Secondo Pia noticed the haunting, lifelike quality of the image he developed in his darkroom. Far more powerful than the positive image faintly visible on the fabric, the negative has arguably supplanted the Shroud itself as the main object of devotion.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many, many people contributed to the making of this book. Some of them—the larger-than-life historical characters who clamored to play parts in these pages—have been dead for centuries. Most, luckily, remain very much alive.
Anthropologists Angi Christensen, Norm Sauer, Richard Jantz, and Emily Craig all helped inform the sections on the Shroud of Turin. Richard, who co-created the University of Tennessee’s ForDisc software, took measurements of the figure on the Shroud and noted the unusual, stork-like proportions. Emily, whose 1994 journal article on how the Shroud could have been created using materials and techniques readily available to medieval artists, examined our life-size, high-resolution photographic print of the entire Shroud and offered helpful insights; so did the co-author of her article, UT textile scientist Randy Bresee. Besides being smart scientists, Randy and Emily are also good sports (and brave people!), agreeing to make cameo appearances in these pages under their own names. Joe Mullins, a talented forensic facial reconstruction artist at the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, likewise agreed to play himself in the book.
Researching Avignon was a writer’s dream assignment, partly because the city is spectacular and partly because people there were lovely and helpful. Sylvie Joly, a press liaison at the Office of Tourism, provided background information, identified experts, and arranged interviews and tours. At the monumental and magnificent Palace of the Popes, conservator Sophie Biass-Fabiani—the keeper of the keys—graciously unlocked virtually every staircase, tower, nook, and cranny. And at Lumani, Avignon’s loveliest guesthouse, Elisabeth and Jean Beraud-Hirschi (also portraying themselves in the book) went above and beyond the call of duty, offering not just hospitality but warmth, charm, and friendship.
Fr. Michael Demkovich—a Dominican friar, teacher, and author who has found inspiration in the life and teachings of Meister Eckhart—was generous with historical context and writerly encouragement. Fr. Michael (who bears no similarities to our story’s Father Mike!) has likewise tackled the mystery surrounding Eckhart’s death; his fictional take on it can be found in his novel, The Death of Magister Aycardus.
Art and artists figure prominently in the story. Stuart Riordan, a gifted Tallahassee artist, shared generously of her knowledge—and her books, and even her charcoal and paper, during a delightful but humbling drawing lesson. If the passages describing Simone Martini at work have any authenticity, Stuart deserves the credit.
This is the most complex of the seven Body Farm novels so far. Dennis McCarthy, Beth McPherson, and William McPherson all read the manuscript and shared a wealth of comments and encouragement. Jane McPherson—The Amazing Jane—was a co-conspirator from the beginning, hearing (and helping shape) the earliest, vaguest ideas; dashing to Turin; delving deeply into Avignon (ah, the food and wine research!); listening to a road-trip reading of a draft; and offering myriad suggestions that made this a better book. The swift, smart, and eagle-eyed Casey Whitworth signed on late in the project and made numerous eleventh-hour contributions to the manuscript itself, to www.JeffersonBass.com, to our Facebook pages, and to JonJeffersonAuthor.blogspot.com.
Turning an idea into a published book takes a lot of work. We appreciate all those at William Morrow who produce, promote, and sell our books, especially our editor, Lyssa Keusch; her able assistant, Wendy Lee (goodbye, and good luck with your own writing!); our production editor, Andrea Molitor; and our publicist, Danielle Bartlett. Hats off to them, and to our agent, Giles Anderson, who set the wheels in motion.
Putting a book into a reader’s hands takes a surprising amount of work, too. Thanks to all the William Morrow sales people and booksellers who make that happen again and again, even in these lean times. A special thanks to Susan Seals and her tribe, of BoneZones.com, for putting our books out there always, and to Frank Murphy, Jennifer Alexander, and our longtime friends at WBIR’s “Alive at Five” show.