Shout in the Dark (15 page)

He allowed Laura to continue the hug for a
time. Then to preserve a modicum of decency he gently unwound her
arms from his neck.
"So?"

"
It's still at the monastery. I told my friends to have
another look there."

"
What friends?" His insides suddenly felt hollow.

Laura went back to the window, turning her
back on him. "Didn't I tell you about them? I'm getting some help
on this story. I'm sure I told you." She turned round and
smiled.

It was all a bit too smooth. "You never
mentioned any friends. You never mentioned a monastery." Why did he
hear alarm bells?

Laura continued to smile. "Bruno Bastiani
and Riccardo Fermi. Don't look so worried, Marco, I still need your
help. Canon Angelo's father was called Levi. Israel Levi. He was
hiding with his family in the monastery of Monte Sisto in nineteen
forty-four, but the village priest informed the Nazis that the
Christian Brothers were sheltering Jews."

"
The local priest hated the Jews that much? I can't believe
it."

"
Or maybe he hated the Brothers. It was a terrible thing he
did. They all died, even the children. Israel Levi was the only one
to escape. He brought the bronze head back to Rome for his son --
his
Christian
son."

"
Canon Angelo? The Jew who became a Christian in the
nineteen thirties?"

Laura nodded. "The Levi family were trying
to get to Switzerland, but the Nazis shot them in the monastery
grounds."

"
So you think they're the dead?" asked Marco.

Laura's eyes shone. "I think Canon Angelo
took the relic back to Monte Sisto."

"
You're sure we're talking about the same relic, the one
showing the face of Christ?"

"
That's the one, though I'm not sure how realistic it would
be. Religious art is only someone's conception."

"
I'd believe it was realistic," said Marco with some
feeling. "But only if it was made before the middle of the first
century. After all, within sixty or seventy years of the
crucifixion, no one was alive who knew what Jesus looked like. From
then on the face was only the artist's or his patron's best guess.
This is our chance to see what Jesus looked like -- in this
life."

"
You sound like an expert."

He laughed. "I've been ... reading a
book."

"
You're not the only one. Bruno and Riccardo are going
through wartime records. They're journalists. They've made some
amazing discoveries. You'll have to meet them. Come with me to
Monte Sisto. We could see if there are any hiding places. And I
could tell you more about the events that took place there. I've
got my old car outside."

"
What, go now?"

"
Why not?"

Marco thought fast. Waiting for the
neo-Nazis to make contact was boring. With Laura's help he might
find the relic.

The "old" car turned out to be a silver
Alfa, a sixteen-valve sports model with a black custom stripe along
the doors. Marco's background in used cars taught him to appreciate
this particular edition from a local tuning company, and he felt a
pang of envy when he saw it. The Alfa was barely three years old.
It had collected an assortment of dents, but then no car stayed
immaculate for long in Rome.

"
We'll take the old road towards Terni," said Laura as they
crawled north through the congested streets towards the ring road.
The road widened and Laura pressed the accelerator to the floor.
Ahead of them a glossy red Maserati was tailgating a truck, but it
dropped back slightly as the driver seemed to tire of the
game.

"
Marco, have you ever been to Monte Sisto?"

"
To be honest, I'd never even heard of the place until you
mentioned it."

"
When we get there, I'll show you exactly where old Israel
Levi got the relic."

Marco watched in fascination as the Alfa
slipped with split-second timing and an inch to spare into the
small space between truck and the Maserati. "You're in a bit of a
hurry."

"
No I'm not." Laura sounded indignant as she swung out
again, swept past the truck, and cut in sharply while braking hard
for the approaching bend. The truck lurched close, almost touching
the rear of the Alfa.

"
It's going to take us a couple of hours to get
there."

Marco swallowed. If they'd come this far
in safety, the Lord would probably continue to look after them as
far as Monte Sisto. He twisted round. A Maserati was wasted on that
driver as it hung back. But the truck, its headlights now blazing
aggressively, stayed close behind their car as Laura negotiated the
bend. A clear, winding road lay ahead. Laura accelerated and left
the truck far behind.

"
It must be hard to concentrate on these roads. I'm not
putting you off by talking am I?" he asked hesitantly.

"
It doesn't bother me at all." And she laughed. "Cheer up,
Marco. You're a nervous passenger, that's your problem."

"
I think you're right." He decided that with a couple of
hours going north at this speed they'd either be dead or at the
French border.

The road twisted sharply around the hills in
a series of steep dips, a trivial detail that failed to slow their
headlong rush. Over to the right lay the vast Monti Sabini, the
famous Sabine Hills.

"
Do you know much about the Nazis in World War Two?" Laura
trod heavily on the brakes for a bend that sharpened up at the last
minute. "Hitler was controlled by an obsession with religious
relics."

Marco felt torn between keeping his eyes
on the road, ready for the inevitable accident, and wanting to be
distracted from Laura's driving by looking at her as he talked.
"Father Josef, the man I work for, said he was a young Nazi in
World War Two. He told me Hitler was presented to him as
semi-divine."

"
Hitler was into the occult, that's for sure." Laura turned
her head for a long look sideways. "He wanted the Habsburg Spear.
Wanted it desperately. The Habsburg Regalia were some of the first
artifacts Hitler took from Austria. He commissioned a special train
to take them to Berlin." She slowed the Alfa and swung it, tires
protesting, onto a minor road.

"
We're not late for anything are we?"

She chose to ignore that remark.
"Christians think the Jews are descended from sex between Eve and
Satan -- the so-called serpent's seed. No wonder you don't respect
them."

"
Father Josef mentioned the serpent's seed. I didn't know
what he meant. Is that right, the Jews are supposed to be the
descendants of sex between Eve and Satan? I've never heard such
nonsense," he protested. "Anyway, who says Christians don't respect
the Jews?"

"
What about the American Identity movement?" Laura
demanded.

"
Don't blame me for them. The Ku Klux Klan, White Power, and
groups who imagine they're the true Israelites who migrated west --
what makes you think they're Christians? They ought to read their
Bibles a bit more. Saint Paul was a Jew. He told the Galatian
Christians that 'there is neither Jew nor Greek ... for you are all
one in Christ Jesus.' Perhaps Hitler should have taken up Bible
reading, too!"

It was only a joke, maybe a bit of showing
off of his Bible knowledge, but Laura took it seriously. "You can't
forget you're a priest, that's your problem," she snapped. "Anyway,
it wasn't only Hitler. Himmler practiced black magic as well. They
both thought Christian relics would bring them power and success."
She hit the gear lever into first and accelerated hard away from
the bend. "I suppose they did, for a time."

The Habsburg Regalia. The spear, a nail,
relics from the crucifixion of Jesus -- some of the few genuine
relics kept by the early church. Relics like this were an aid to
faith, not a source of witchcraft. "I don't see why the spear that
pierced Christ's side should have magical powers. It doesn't seem
right."

"
Doesn't seem right?" Laura sounded hostile. "It depends
what you do with these things. Fancy some figs? There are heaps
along here." She stamped on the brakes and stopped the silver Alfa
under the branches of a row of wild figs growing in the shelter of
an old wall.

Marco opened the car door. Without warning
he had an awareness of evil. He fought down a rising fear that
Laura was planning something. Why the sudden stop? Was he to be
quietly eliminated out here in the wilds? It was not a feeling he
could shake off. Perhaps it was because they had been discussing
the occult. He could remember a night at seminary when he and a
group of students had been talking about the devil until the early
hours. Strange forces were stirred up, and they had gone to bed
terrified.

The figs looked good. Laura picked one and
tossed it over to him. He caught it and rubbed it on his shirt to
remove the dust. Laura was Eve, tempting Adam.

"
I hope this isn't forbidden fruit," he said. The reference
about the Garden of Eden seemed lost on Laura. "Maybe you're right
about the spear," he continued. "Good and evil are what people do
with these things. A person can take something good and use it for
evil."

Laura reached up for another fig. "You're
right. And surely the opposite applies. A person can take something
evil and use it for good."

Marco shrugged his shoulders. "Not in my
book. Why do you say that?"

Laura was already back in the car. She
threw the stalk of her fig out of the window and turned angrily.
"Well, that's where you're wrong, you sanctimonious puritan. Good
can come out of
any
action.
Anything
is
justified -- if the motive is right." She started the engine,
hardly waiting for him to get in before pulling away.

For the next twenty minutes they drove in
silence, with Marco afraid of triggering a further outburst. The
right time would come to find out what was troubling Laura. Maybe
the strange hills were affecting them. He felt vulnerable out in
the open like this.

The intense sun had long ago turned the
countryside dry and yellow. Apart from the winding road and the
rows of conical cypress trees, Marco could see nothing to relieve
the monotony of the summer landscape. Born in the city, he was a
Roman through and through, and proud of it.

"
Is it much further?"

Laura said nothing and he began to feel
irritable. After all, the drive to Monte Sisto was her idea. He
wondered whether to talk about his past, about Anna, but decided to
wait for a more suitable opportunity.

For nearly an hour the road continued in a
series of tight loops, up and then down, one hill after another.
Laura slowed at last, bringing the Alfa to a halt on a wide area of
loose stones on one of the bends. She switched off the engine,
opened the door, climbed out and stretched.

Marco turned his head to look over the
sheer drop just outside his door. "This is it?"

She looked serious. "No, but we're getting
closer. I want you to see the view. Monte Sisto's over that way.
There's a map behind my seat."

Marco reached into the car for it and found
the road they had taken from Rome. As far as he was concerned they
might be anywhere in the world. Far below were olive trees: he
could at least recognize them as such. City traffic was a natural
accompaniment to his life. Without it this hillside seemed empty,
desolate, the space blending into infinity.

Laura seemed to relax. "Is that a
buzzard?"

There was not a cloud in the sky. The deep
blue overhead turned to haze in the distance. All Marco could see
was the silhouette of some faraway bird. It could be a seagull for
all he knew. "Probably."

"
Monte Sisto is just beyond those hills."

He looked at the map then stared into the
heat shimmer. The hills just went on and on. "Are you
sure?"

"
You're worried!" Laura sounded her old self again. "You
won't get lost if you stick with me." And she smiled
reassuringly.

The prospect of sticking with Laura had a
certain attraction, but he quickly contained his thoughts. As they
stood by the side of the road he became aware of
a motorbike with a high revving engine,
busy changing gear as it wound its way up the hill towards them. He
felt his heartbeat rise as the bike approached, and realized just
how exposed he was right now.

The bike passed, the young rider giving them
no more than a passing glance. A car horn beeped a warning
somewhere, and the cicadas continued their incessant chirping.
These were familiar sounds in the park. Out here they sounded so
clear, totally unmasked by the comfortable noises of urban life,
and somehow alien.

Laura spread out the map as the bike faded
into the heat haze. Marco relaxed and leaned over her shoulder. He
could smell the perfume on her neck, beneath the long swept-back
hair. The sight of the soft skin aroused him unexpectedly. The fine
hairs around the neck were exactly like Anna's. His emotions were
running wild again and he moved away. He'd been happy with Anna,
intensely happy, but those years of happiness had gone. He was
ordained now.