Shrouded in Silence (19 page)

"What do you think they might be?" Jack asked.

"Hard to say," Dov answered. "But put yourself in the position that James must have been in. No matter how you stack up the debate over cousins or brothers, James grew up with Jesus and must have watched his brother become an entirely different person than they would have expected. Consider the options. Did he consider Jesus a fanatic? a genius? deluded? maybe, just plain nuts? the long-expected messiah? What did he think?"

"We don't want to buy an idea that is blasphemy," Jack said. "We've got a great deal at stake here, too. Being a Jew, you're in a slightly different position, Dov."

"True, but it doesn't change the fact that there's something in that document that profoundly troubles the Roman Catholic Church. That's why they've kept it concealed under lock and key. I now know where it is hidden."

Jack's mouth dropped. "You're kidding me!"

"Nope. Father Donnello leveled with me."

Michelle came briskly back into the room. "No big deal on the phone. I was going to tell you that I've been trying to see what's behind
Teaching of the Twelve Apostles
that dates from A.D. 130 to 160. and trying to find any clues hidden there," Michelle said. "No luck so far, but I have one thing I want to show you." She turned to her pile of books. "Oh, gosh! I left it in my briefcase in the car. I'll run out and get it." She stood up. "I'll be right back."

Hurrying through the kitchen and out the back door, Michelle rushed to their car parked in the reserved space. Her briefcase should be in the back seat. Picking up the armload of books had distracted her, but then again, she couldn't have carried everything at once. Halfway down the path, she wondered if she put the briefcase in the car or might have left it at home. Could be either.

Her body suddenly left the ground followed by a roar engulfing her with a terrifying boom that shook every bone in her body. When she hit the grass, Michelle bounced, catching a glimpse of a piece of wooden siding flying passed followed by a shower of broken glass. She came up on her hands and knees but a hunk of something dark careened toward her face. Michelle tried to block it, but felt it catching the top of her head and sending her flying backward. Everything blanked out.

Voices seemed to be drifting in from somewhere. She tried to open her eyes but found it difficult to focus. Noise increased, and she heard men running somewhere out there in front of her. No matter how hard she pushed, it seemed impossible to get off the ground.

"There's a person over here!" A man yelled in Italian. "Over here in the grass."

Michelle kept blinking, and shapes became more defined. Wherever she looked, splintered pieces of boards were scattered on the yard. Only then did she look at their offices. She looked again. Pieces of the roof were gone and the walls at the kitchen entrance had cratered inward. Entire sections of the wall were ripped away. It looked like a volcano had erupted through the floor. Michelle kept blinking, unable to grasp what she was seeing.

"Here she is!" a familiar voice yelled. "My God! Get a stretcher over here!"

Father Donald Blake leaped over the broken pieces of wood on the ground, rushing toward her. The heavyset priest appeared to be flying through the air. She still couldn't grasp what he was about.

Father Blake dropped on his knees beside her. "Oh, you poor dear. How badly are you hurt?"

"I-I don't know," Michelle mumbled. "W-what's happened?"

"You're bleeding from the top of your head," Blake said. "We've got to get you in an ambulance."

Michelle got a tight grip on his coat sleeve. "Tell me what's happened."

"An explosion went off under your offices," Father Blake said. "Apparently, you weren't inside."

"Inside?" Michelle mumbled slowly. "Heaven help us! Jack was in there."

"You're sure?" Father Blake pressed.

"Yes, and our assistant Dov Sharon. Both men were . . ."

Father Blake stood up. "There are two more inside," he shouted at the top of his voice. "Somebody get in there and see where they are! Get me a stretcher over here."

"J-Jack was in there," Michelle mumbled, finding it difficult to talk. "You've got to find him." She pulled frantically on the priest's arm. "Understand? We've got to get him out."

"We will. Don't worry. We will."

Oh, my poor husband," Michelle groaned. "Lord help him. "Everything around her began to shift and swirl. Michelle felt nauseated and her stomach wrenched. A white glaze began descending over the pile of debris and the men running around the smashed house. The whiteness increased, and she couldn't sit up any longer. Grass pressed against her face and suddenly everything disappeared.

22

W
hen a bright ray of sunlight fell across Michelle's face, she awoke but nothing made any sense. She pulled her arm over her eyes to shield them from the brightness and only then realized she was in a strange bed. Rising slightly, she stared at the face that didn't seem to fit.

"It's me," the man said. "Donald Blake."

The man's features slowly took a familiar shape. "F-Father Blake," she stammered. "Where am I?"

"Your in the hospital, my dear. You've been unconscious for several hours."

Michelle lay back down. "The hospital? What am I doing in a hospital?"

"You got hit in the head and received a concussion when the house exploded. They stitched your head, but you've been unconscious for some time."

"Concussion?" The idea didn't make any sense. "What house?"

"Your offices," Father Blake said. "Don't you remember any of what occurred?"

"I remember leaving to go to my car, but nothing more."

"A bomb went off underneath your building," Father Blake said. "Did you have any idea or warning the explosion was coming?"

"A bomb?" Michelle struggled to grasp what the priest was saying. "A bomb?"

"Caught you by complete surprise?"

Michelle pushed herself up and stared at the man. Nothing was making any sense. She didn't know what to say.

"OK," Blake said. "I think I have your answer."

"You're here?" Michelle said. "Where is Jack?"

"Jack was in the house," Blake's voice sounded grave. "I came here with you in the ambulance."

Michelle lay back down and tried to think. Jack should be here with her. Why hadn't he come in the ambulance. Maybe he and Dov were still talking. Busy. Yes. Preoccupied.

"They were having a conference," she said. "He and Dov. "We were talking . . ."

"Yes," Father Blake leaned forward.

Everything felt too heavy. She could feel her eyelids fluttering as if they were independent of her control. Michelle couldn't finish the sentence. That was the last thing she remembered.

23

T
he firemen worked back and forth in the wreckage trying to make sure the ruins of the old house didn't erupt into flames. While there had been some charred wood, only smoke still curled up out of the wreckage. A crowd of people from the neighboring office buildings and houses had gathered and stood next to the church staring at the pile of smoldering rubble.

Tony Mattei pushed his way through the crowd to the front. For a moment the diamond merchant watched the workers throwing broken lumber into piles. The police were guarding the perimeters and holding the crowd back. The situation looked grave.

"Officer! Mattei called out and beckoned with his hand.

A policeman looked at him and strolled over. "
Ciao."

"I am a close friend of the Townsends who have an office in that building. Can you tell me what happened?"

"You knew the residents?" The policeman said.

"Quite well. I am their personal friend."

"Come with me." The policeman led him out of the crowd over to a small command station that had been set up near the back of the church. "I want you to speak with my supervisor and give him any information you have."

"Certainly," Tony Mattei said.

"This man knows the Townsends," the officer said to a skinny inspector in a worn sport coat making notes on a small pad. "He might be able to report something. Please meet Alfredo Pino."

"How many people were in there?" the detective immediately barked.

"I don't know," Mattei said. "Usually three people worked in those offices."

"Three? Hmm. We've found three so far."

"Probably got 'em all," Tony said. "Did anybody survive?"

"Don't know yet," Pino said. "Took two away in ambulances, but I didn't see them. Can't tell if everyone survived."

Mattei held his arms in the air in a helpless gesture of consternation. "What happened?"

"We believe a plastic explosive device was placed under the house," the inspector said. "At least that's my hunch at the moment. We'll know more later."

Tony Mattei nodded. "Doesn't look like anybody could have survived."

"Best we can tell a table fell over on one person and shielded him from the direct blast. Another guy apparently was standing over the spot in the kitchen where the bomb was planted. I'm sure he's gone."

"Terrible, terrible," Tony muttered.

Another man came out of the crowd and walked straight toward the detective without speaking to the policeman. When the cop reached for him, the man glared furiously and the policeman let go. The intruder kept walking.

"I am Dr. Albert Stein," he said forcefully. "I'm an associate of the Townsends. We work on the same projects and do research together. I am sure they will be concerned that their investigations not be destroyed in the blast. Since I am an anthropologist, I would be delighted to help recover any material scattered in the ruins."

Tony studied the professor with the arrogant look on his face. His appearance looked foreboding.

"At the moment, we're attempting to make sure a fire doesn't break out," the detective said. "We'll need to make certain there are no other explosives planted in or around the building. Once we're certain, we'll be ready for a salvage operation. Perhaps, you can help with that. Of course, it will be tomorrow before we know for certain."

Stein nodded perfunctorily. "I see. Yes. It's best to return tomorrow?"

"That would be my suggestion," Pino said.

"I'll be back," Stein said and turned away.

Tony Mattei watched the man walk back toward the crowd. Stein remained unintimidated by the police.

24

B
y the time Michelle awoke, night had returned with the darkness feeling far more soothing than the early morning bright sunlight. For several minutes, she stared at the ceiling and tried to make sense out of what had happened but only drew a blank. She stirred and felt a sharp pain race through the top of her head.