said, peering at the cross,
the rose, and the seal woven into the cloth. Tiny beads of perspiration
dampened his scalp beneath his red zucchetto.
"I had the same reaction, Eminence," John said. John produced a
pair of white gloves from his pocket. He gently removed and
unwrapped the Cup, setting it beside the box.
Hairs on the back of Ianucci's neck prickled, and a surge of nerve
impulses raced down his arms. Gabriel Archer was no fool. If he
believed this to be the Holy Grail, there was a strong likelihood that
the Cup from the Last Supper sat only inches away.
lanucci opened a desk drawer and retrieved his own pair of
gloves. Slipping them on, he picked up the chalice and examined itexploring the engraved monogram, the small band of beads, and the
grapevines winding around the neck. The exhilaration was difficult to
contain. He pointed to the dark substance coating the inside.
"Beeswax?"
"I think so," John said.
"An appropriate method of preservation for that time period."
The cardinal inspected the Cup from all angles, finally setting it down
again. He leaned back and cocked his head, first to one side and then
the other as he continued to study the relic. "The style and metalwork
seem concurrent with others I've seen of that era. The engraving was
probably much later."
"Agreed," John said.
"Radiocarbon dating the wax should be fairly straightforward."
The fluttering in his chest made him cough. He pressed his fingers to
his carotid, checking the irregular beat, unable to take his eyes from
the chalice. His heart regained its rhythm. "We have a number of vessels with which to do a side-by-side comparison." lanucci looked up. "All right. Let's deliver it to our experts and see what they find." He
stood. "Where are you staying?"
"Nova Domus," John said, coming to his feet.
Cotten rose and turned to John. "Is that all?"
"For today, Ms. Stone," lanucci answered.
"But SNN is ready to-"
The cardinal smiled, holding up his hand. "You must be patient."
"Do you think it's authentic? What's your best guess?" she asked.
John gently took Cotten's arm. "It has to go through a lengthy
process-there won't be any guessing."
Cotten edged her arm away. "I realize that it will take time." She
turned to Ianucci. "Your Eminence, I took John's advice and agreed to
bring the relic here. But there are many other organizations qualified
to authenticate it in return for guaranteeing me the exclusive." She
took a slight step forward toward the desk. "If I could have your
word, the Cup is yours."
The significance of the relic far outweighed who reported the
story first, the cardinal reasoned. He would grant her a fleeting
moment of fame. Then she would be on a plane fading into obscurity
while he continued his journey toward his ultimate goal. The Grail
story would give him additional notoriety, helping him gain prominence among his colleagues. A prominence that mattered the next
time the College of Cardinals gathered in the Sistine Chapel in secret
conclave and cast their ballots for the man who would become the
next bishop of Rome, Holy Father, successor to Saint Peter, Vicar of
Christ.
"You have made your point, Ms. Stone. I will alert you as soon as
I have word. Until then, take time to enjoy the sights of Rome while
our people perform their work. I am sure Father Tyler will be happy to act as your tour guide." Cardinal Ianucci nodded, clearly dismissing them.
They thanked lanucci and walked across the ancient wooden
floor. As the echo of the fourteen-foot-high doors closed behind
them, lanucci moved to the window overlooking the palace courtyard, waiting until his pulse slowed. Only then did he allow himself to
look back at the Cup on his desk.
At twilight, John and Cotten took the cardinal's suggestion to take in
some of Rome's famous highlights.
As they walked, Cotten couldn't help but rehash what lanucci had
said. "Someone got rid of the Arab's body so there would be nothing
the rose, and the seal woven into the cloth. Tiny beads of perspiration
dampened his scalp beneath his red zucchetto.
"I had the same reaction, Eminence," John said. John produced a
pair of white gloves from his pocket. He gently removed and
unwrapped the Cup, setting it beside the box.
Hairs on the back of Ianucci's neck prickled, and a surge of nerve
impulses raced down his arms. Gabriel Archer was no fool. If he
believed this to be the Holy Grail, there was a strong likelihood that
the Cup from the Last Supper sat only inches away.
lanucci opened a desk drawer and retrieved his own pair of
gloves. Slipping them on, he picked up the chalice and examined itexploring the engraved monogram, the small band of beads, and the
grapevines winding around the neck. The exhilaration was difficult to
contain. He pointed to the dark substance coating the inside.
"Beeswax?"
"I think so," John said.
"An appropriate method of preservation for that time period."
The cardinal inspected the Cup from all angles, finally setting it down
again. He leaned back and cocked his head, first to one side and then
the other as he continued to study the relic. "The style and metalwork
seem concurrent with others I've seen of that era. The engraving was
probably much later."
"Agreed," John said.
"Radiocarbon dating the wax should be fairly straightforward."
The fluttering in his chest made him cough. He pressed his fingers to
his carotid, checking the irregular beat, unable to take his eyes from
the chalice. His heart regained its rhythm. "We have a number of vessels with which to do a side-by-side comparison." lanucci looked up. "All right. Let's deliver it to our experts and see what they find." He
stood. "Where are you staying?"
"Nova Domus," John said, coming to his feet.
Cotten rose and turned to John. "Is that all?"
"For today, Ms. Stone," lanucci answered.
"But SNN is ready to-"
The cardinal smiled, holding up his hand. "You must be patient."
"Do you think it's authentic? What's your best guess?" she asked.
John gently took Cotten's arm. "It has to go through a lengthy
process-there won't be any guessing."
Cotten edged her arm away. "I realize that it will take time." She
turned to Ianucci. "Your Eminence, I took John's advice and agreed to
bring the relic here. But there are many other organizations qualified
to authenticate it in return for guaranteeing me the exclusive." She
took a slight step forward toward the desk. "If I could have your
word, the Cup is yours."
The significance of the relic far outweighed who reported the
story first, the cardinal reasoned. He would grant her a fleeting
moment of fame. Then she would be on a plane fading into obscurity
while he continued his journey toward his ultimate goal. The Grail
story would give him additional notoriety, helping him gain prominence among his colleagues. A prominence that mattered the next
time the College of Cardinals gathered in the Sistine Chapel in secret
conclave and cast their ballots for the man who would become the
next bishop of Rome, Holy Father, successor to Saint Peter, Vicar of
Christ.
"You have made your point, Ms. Stone. I will alert you as soon as
I have word. Until then, take time to enjoy the sights of Rome while
our people perform their work. I am sure Father Tyler will be happy to act as your tour guide." Cardinal Ianucci nodded, clearly dismissing them.
They thanked lanucci and walked across the ancient wooden
floor. As the echo of the fourteen-foot-high doors closed behind
them, lanucci moved to the window overlooking the palace courtyard, waiting until his pulse slowed. Only then did he allow himself to
look back at the Cup on his desk.
At twilight, John and Cotten took the cardinal's suggestion to take in
some of Rome's famous highlights.
As they walked, Cotten couldn't help but rehash what lanucci had
said. "Someone got rid of the Arab's body so there would be nothing
Similar Books
