The Omega Factor(91)


“Jan van Eyck died in July 1441. He was buried in the graveyard of the Cathedral of St. Donatian in Bruges,” Fuentes said to Vilamur. “In 1442 his brother Lambert had the body exhumed and placed inside the cathedral. But when that tomb was opened in the mid-eighteenth century it was found to be empty.”

“You think he’s here? Among the maidens?”

“That is hard to say. But, if so, then this poem would be authentic. Before today, we had nowhere to look to verify.”

“And that’s why the Just Judges was so important?”

“Correct. This poem clearly references the altarpiece and that particular panel. It implies that the Just Judges can lead you to the Vultures. We were actively investigating that possibility in 1934, but the panel was stolen before we could examine it.”

“Why was Rome so intent on it?”

“Pius XI was planning to declare the Assumption of Mary as dogma. But he wanted the matter of les Vautours, and what they may or may not possess, resolved. So the commission began an active investigation, involving both The Testimony of John and the poem.”

“You must have been elated to learn the panel had been found,” Vilamur said.

“To say the least. And I’ve been waiting patiently to view it. But again, les Vautours struck first and destroyed it. This is a vexing issue. Pius XI died in 1939, declaring nothing relative to the Virgin. Eleven years later, in 1950, Pius XII invoked papal infallibility for the first time in almost a hundred years and defined the dogma of the Assumption of Mary. Having completed the course of her earthly life, she was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory. That was the last time full papal infallibility has been employed by a pope to this day. That dogma was preceded in 1946 by an encyclical, Deiparae Virginis Mariae, which requested all Catholic bishops to express their opinion on the Assumption. That was also a way to alert les Vautours to what might be coming. To see if they intended to keep their secret about the Virgin’s grave. Hearing nothing, four years later, the pope moved ahead.”

“And nothing has been revealed since. So why not just leave them alone? Obviously, they want whatever they have to remain secret.”

“That’s one course that could be pursued. But what if they change their minds? What if they abandon their mission? What if there is a traitor among them? That tomb could be found.”

“How would anyone know it to be authentic?”

“There is a way. Not exact, but close enough to be sure. The Testimony of John speaks to it.”

Another car wheeled into the lot and parked.

Friars Dwight and Rice exited, along with two other men, all dressed casually with jackets beneath which he spotted holstered weapons.

Good. He’d told them to come armed.

“Our troops have arrived,” he said.





Chapter 59



Nick estimated he was about halfway up the zigzagging road, the path ascending the ridge like steps of a ladder. He’d finished his water and sandwiches, depositing the trash in one of the receptacles he’d passed along the way. He was fortified, ready for what lay ahead.

Whatever that might be.

He was probably a thousand to fifteen hundred feet up with a clear view through the trees. Flanks of green, narrow valleys lined with stands of beech, birch, and pine stretched for as far as he could see, more jagged mountains filling the horizon. It reminded him a lot of Colorado. The road he’d taken from town was also visible, traffic light today. The sun was high in the clear sky, warming the cool mountain air, the scent of pine strong in the breeze. How would he deal with the maidens? Surely, they were not going to appreciate his presence. After all, Sister Claire had driven off and left him in the Belgian countryside. Nothing unintentional about that. But he’d rebounded, and here he was ready to face what lay ahead. He’d dealt with a lot of tough situations across the globe. Delicate scenarios where he’d been required to think and act smart. He was an official UN representative and, as his training had made clear, his actions had consequences. Like stealing a body from a member nation’s morgue? Reynaldo had told him that they’d be speaking more about that one when this was over, and he was not looking forward to that conversation. But he’d never encountered something like this. Definitely a first. Made more complicated by Kelsey’s involvement.

He stopped for a short rest.

His gaze drifted back to the spectacular view, which also afforded a look down at the car park. Another vehicle had joined his there. Two men were standing outside the car. Visitors? Finding out the abbey was closed for the day? Maybe. One of them was reading from what appeared to be a tablet of some kind. Another car motored in and stopped. Four men emerged. He was too far away to make out faces, but the two from the front seat, one tall, the other short and stout, seemed familiar.

Dwight and Rice.

Dominicans.

With reinforcements?

All six men gathered for a moment, the pad was left inside one of the cars, then they started walking toward the inclined path.

Okay.

Game on.





Kelsey felt the murmur of alarm that had skittered across the low-ceilinged chapel.

They are here.

Most of the maidens headed back up to ground level. The abbess directed four of the women to approach the altar and lift the wicker coffin with Sister Rachel inside.

“Take her to the cemetery,” the abbess said.

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