The Omega Factor(55)



“The Vatican,” the mother superior quickly said.

And he saw the concerned faces of the other maidens. This was apparently not a good thing.

“That’s correct,” Dwight said. “My mission is one of long standing. Perhaps, finally, we may know the truth, the life. Veritas Vita.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” he asked.

“To you? No. But to these maidens. Absolutely.”

Something major was happening here.

And bad.

“These women say you know where the laptop computer they managed to steal last night is located,” Dwight said. “One of their own was killed by the police in the process.”

This guy had some good intel. The question was, how much did he really know?

Nick tried to recall what he could about Dominicans from his grade-school exposure, as a Protestant, to Catholicism. Founded in the early thirteenth century by a Spanish priest named Félix de Guzmán, who came to be known as Brother Dominic. The order preached the Gospel, opposed heresy, and served as teachers at the forefront of medieval intellectual life. Some called them black friars because of the black cloak they wore over white habits. Also, they’d once sported a distinctive hairstyle. A tonsure. The scalp shaved smooth to a perfect bald cap. In books and movies they were always the scary ones in the dark robes who did all sorts of sinister things.

But that was fiction. Right?

Dwight reached into his pocket and found a cell phone. He tapped the screen then displayed it to him. On it he saw an image he recognized.

“That was taken from the left shoulder of the dead woman from last night,” Dwight said.

“And how did you gain access to the body?” he asked.

“The church has many friends in Ghent,” one of the friars said with an annoying grin.

“Do you know its significance?” Dwight asked.

“Not a clue.”

“Perhaps I should be asking that question to the maidens here in the room.” Dwight held the image up and displayed it to them. “Do you recognize this?”

No one spoke.

“I wouldn’t think you’d admit to a thing,” Dwight said. Then he motioned and the two other friars grabbed the younger maiden with the bruised face, the one who’d insulted Dwight. Nick and the other maidens moved to help, but Dwight displayed a gun, aimed straight at them.

They froze.

“Is that standard issue at the monastery?” he asked Dwight.

“It is today. Now, all of you, step away.”

No one moved.

And he brought the gun level to make his point clearer, cocking the hammer back into place.

“Do as he says,” Nick urged the women, and they collectively retreated.

But Nick held his ground.

“You too,” Dwight said.

“What are you doing with her?” he asked.

“Finding out the truth.”

Dwight kept the gun aimed and stepped toward the younger maiden. He grabbed her smock, pulling it back across her left shoulder, ripping buttons away and exposing the skin and bra strap. The other maidens gasped at the violation. But there, tattooed, like on the dead woman from last night, was a vulture.

A smile creased Dwight’s thin lips. “Les Vautours.”

His French was terrible. “You’re going to have to translate that.”

“The Vultures,” Dwight said. “These women are les Vautours.”

“And that is?”

“A thorn in the side of the church. But now we know they have existed, out in the open, right in front of everyone, as the Maidens of Saint-Michael. Finally, we have shed their disguise and located them. And that’s all thanks to you, Mr. Lee. You caused quite a disruption in their operation last night.”

Dwight motioned with the gun and the two other men released their hold on the maiden, who quickly covered the tear in the smock with her right hand.

“You will regret what you just did,” the mother superior said.

Dwight chuckled. “You’re an old woman. No threat to anyone.”

“I’m not old,” the younger maiden who’d been assaulted added.

“This is a lot of intimidation,” he said to Dwight.

“Necessary, under the circumstances. These Vultures have been a problem for a long time. And you? They willfully destroyed a great work of art last night. Is it not your job to protect the world’s treasures? Now, what about that laptop computer.”

“Not going to happen.”

He hoped his obstinance bought some brownie points with the maidens.

Dwight, though, only shrugged. “I don’t really need those images any longer. I now know exactly where I have to go, and that’s what I came to find out.”

The friar motioned and his two cohorts headed from the room.

Dwight backed out, gun still pointed. “Please. Stay here until we are gone.”

Nick’s gaze scanned the room. Nothing from any of the women betrayed even the slightest emotion. They watched calmly as the Dominicans left.

One of the younger women stepped forward. A brunette, with an olive complexion. “Mr. Lee, I am Sister Isabel. My colleague, the one who was just violated, is Sister Ellen. We appreciate what you did.”

“You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on. A woman died last night and a great work of art was intentionally destroyed. That piece of crap that just left here was right. It is my job to look after cultural treasures. What did he mean about knowing exactly where to go?”

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