Shaw frowned. “Of course.”
“It’s now officially invoked. Father Price was the victim of a vicious attack. He’s been tortured, was unconscious when he was brought to the ER, and remains unable to communicate. You claim to be concerned about him. Perhaps you are, but for all I know, you may have been responsible for what happened to him in the first place. What if you’re here masquerading as his friend, but really came here for the express purpose of finishing the job? Until I have a clearer idea of whether or not you pose a threat, you won’t be allowed anywhere near him.”
“Are you kidding?” Bravo demanded. “You’re trying to kick me out?”
“I will kick you out,” she declared without a hint of smile. “That’s not a threat. It’s a promise. Since you won’t tell me what Father Price was searching for, I won’t allow you to have access to my patient, simple as that. In fact, I could most likely have you thrown out of the hospital altogether. Once the police get here.”
“The cops aren’t coming,” Bravo said.
She appeared to be genuinely startled. “What do you mean they’re not coming?”
“The hunters who found Martin didn’t report the incident to the authorities at the time they brought him to the hospital, and I’ve been assured that they won’t be doing so in the future. Neither will the hospital. Once he leaves here, all trace of his having been here will be erased.”
“You’re impeding an official investigation into the commission of a crime,” she said. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“Because the presence of law enforcement would instantly alert our enemies to the fact that Martin is still alive, in which case, the first thing they would do is send someone here to finish the job. Once Martin is out of danger and declared fit to travel, I intend to have him transported back to our U.S. headquarters where he’ll be able to recover in relative safety.”
“You believe he’s still in danger?”
“Absolutely.”
“If I’m caring for him, doesn’t that mean I’m in danger, as well?” she asked.
Looking uncomfortable, Bravo nodded. “I suppose it does.”
She fell silent for a moment. “As long as Martin Price is a patient in this hospital, Bishop Francis Gillespie has charged me with protecting him. I fully intend to do so, against all comers.”
“But, Sister,” Bravo said, “you have no idea what you’re up against.”
“I’m up against it?” she asked. “It sounds as though we’re both up against it, so why don’t you explain it to me? If I’m expected to defend the man, it’s only fair that I know from what. It also seems reasonable that I should have some understanding of what Father Price was doing or some idea of who his attacker or attackers might be. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Turning her back on Bravo, she walked into Martin Price’s empty cubicle. She returned a moment later carrying two small clear plastic bags, which she handed to Bravo. Inside one was a wooden crucifix, black with dried blood. In the other was the bloodied tip of a hunting arrow.
“The crucifix was found on his person, clutched in Father Price’s hand. The arrow was in his back,” she said. “By giving these to you, I’m now guilty of concealing evidence of a crime. So how about we declare a peace treaty? What if we decide right now that Father Price is both our responsibilities? In which case I need you to be straight with me, but first let’s go out into the lobby and find somewhere to sit. They’re ready to clean this cubicle, and we’re in the way.”
IT WASN’T LIKE BRAVO SHAW to concede defeat to anyone, especially to an elderly nun, but there was something fearless about this woman that he could not help but respect. Obligingly he followed her out into the hospital’s main lobby where she led him to a quiet corner seating area.
“Tell me,” she said, once they were both seated.
But he was busy examining the crucifix, which he’d removed from the plastic bag. As he turned it over and over in his hands, Sister Anselm said, “What is it?”
“This is old. Perhaps from the time.” He looked up at her. “It seems possible now that Martin found what he and his team had been sent to find.”
She cocked her head. “And that would be?”
He sighed. “We’re a lay order. Part of our mission is locating lost artifacts dating from the earliest days of the Christian church. Once those priceless relics are found and authenticated, we see to it that they are returned to their rightful place. Unfortunately, there are powerful forces both inside and outside the church who would prefer to keep those treasures for their own benefit and profit. Those people have always allied themselves with an organization called the Knights of Saint Clement, named for the pope who branded us heretics.”
“So you’re supposedly the good guys and the so-called Knights are the bad guys?” she asked. “But if you’re returning the artifacts to the church, what’s the problem?”
“Unfortunately, not everyone inside the church or even inside the Vatican is trustworthy.”
“And if the Knights and their friends lay hands on those relics before you do, what happens then?”
“They usually auction them off to the highest bidder, which is often someone among the most rich and powerful people in the world. And dangerous.”
“It sounds to me as though you must consider Bishop Gillespie to be on the right side of this conflict, on the side of the angels, as it were.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t know the man, but since people I trust in turn trust him, you could say that. At this point, however, it’s important that the good bishop not be drawn into this incident any more than he has been already. He could be in mortal danger, as could you.”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Anselm bristled, “but you still haven’t told me what Martin Price and his cohorts were searching for. And speaking of his teammates, what about them. Are they even still alive?”
He shook his head. “I doubt it. The Gnostic Observatines operate either individually or in teams. The same is true for the Knights of Saint Clement. Their teams refer to themselves as extramuros. Believe me, they are utterly ruthless. I can’t imagine how Martin managed to escape their clutches. As for his teammates? I would hazard a guess that they’re both dead and their bodies will never be found.”
“Which now means we’re interfering with the investigation into three crimes rather than just one?”
He nodded.
“And what exactly was Father Price’s team searching for?”
Knowing he was going all in, he sighed. “What do you know about the Veil of Saint Veronica?”