by Robin Cook
“So, the tunnel was reasonably accessible?”
“Very much so. I knew the tunnel had not been filled in from my work at the site. My only mistake was that the ossuary was in the wall and not in the ceiling.”
“It’s an amazing story,” Jack said. “Is it your intention to open the ossuary tomorrow?”
“You bet your life! Thanks to your arranging access to a modern lab facility.”
“Would you mind if I stuck around to watch after I get you and your wife settled in the lab?”
“Not at all. We’d love to have you. In fact, if we find what we hope to find, we’ll have to have a celebration tomorrow night at our house in the West Village, and you’ll be invited. We’ll even pressure His Holiness into joining us. It will be the Three Musketeers all over again.”
“If you find what you want to find, I’m not sure James will be in the mood to celebrate,” Jack said, shaking Shawn’s hand in preparation of leaving.
“I think we’ll be able to twist his arm,” Shawn said, walking Jack to the office door. “See you tomorrow for what should turn out to be a remarkable unveiling.”
“Looking forward to it,” Jack said. Remembering a question he’d been meaning to ask, he added, “If there are bones in the ossuary, would you want the OCME anthropologist to look at them? He’s an expert on old bones, and can probably tell you some interesting things about them.”
“Why not, provided there’s no mention of whose bones they are. ‘The more information we can get, the better’ has always been my motto.”
19
5:05 P.M., FRIDAY, DECEMBER 5, 2008
NEW YORK CITY
Jack took the elevator down to the museum’s first floor in anticipatory excitement. Although the lobby was still as crowded as it had been earlier, Jack hardly noticed the people. Instead, he thought about how good it had been to see two of his best friends from a time in his life he’d so enjoyed, especially catching up with them as this mesmerizing narrative unfolded. Jack could not remember another occasion when he’d been more eager for time to pass and questions to be answered. The only dubious element was the history of his two friends’ propensity to clash. Jack had the disturbing feeling that he’d again be called to referee a serious conflict between the two men, as he’d done in college, each steadfastly convinced of the validity of his position. Little did Jack know how prophetic and deadly his intuition would prove to be.
Jack didn’t waste time riding home, thanks to the cold air. Pushing himself to generate as much body heat as possible, he rode uptown at breakneck speed. Within fifteen minutes he’d traversed the park and reached 106th Street, heading for his house, a fourth-floor walk-up that he and Laurie had recently renovated. Directly across the street was the playground Jack had refurbished at his own expense. As he glided to a stop, he eyed the basketball court he’d had illuminated. It was covered with shiny black pools of rainwater, meaning there would be no games that night.
Hoisting his bike onto his shoulder, he climbed the eight front steps of the stoop and stepped inside. He glanced at the console table and the mirror directly above it. There was no note waiting for him to let him know if Laurie and the baby were asleep.
Jack couldn’t decide if he preferred a note or not. When there was a note, he’d instantly feel lonely. When there wasn’t, he’d have to gird himself from getting too emotional hearing about the invariable bad day.
“We’re up here,” Laurie shouted from the kitchen.
Jack felt a bit of relief, as Laurie’s voice sounded less strained than usual. Perhaps it had been a good day. When it had been a bad day, Jack could always hear it in her tone.
After stashing his bike in a custom-sized front-hall closet and hanging up his leather jacket, he slipped off his shoes, put on his slippers, and climbed upstairs. As he had expected, Laurie and JJ were in the kitchen. On the surface, it looked like a normal domestic scene. JJ was on his back in the playpen, reaching for the mobile suspended above him. Except for his slightly bulging eyes and the dark circles below them, he looked like any baby. Laurie was at the sink, preparing artichokes for their evening meal. Except for her pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes that rivaled JJ’s, she looked terrific. Her lustrous brown hair glinted with auburn highlights.
Noticing Jack’s gaze, she said, “JJ let me take a shower! He’s had a better day today than any other day this week. I feel like I’ve been on vacation.”
“That’s fabulous,” Jack said.
Laurie rinsed her hands and dried them on her apron as she walked over to Jack and enveloped him in her arms. For a full minute, the husband and wife embraced, speaking volumes without words. Laurie was the first to pull back to give Jack a peck on the lips. Then she went back to the sink and the artichokes.
“How was your day?” she asked. “How’s your crusade going?”
Jack thought for a moment about what to say. The day had been irritating and exhilarating. He’d gone from squabbling with Lou and Vinnie to lunching with the archbishop and meeting Shawn at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“It’s been a full day,” Jack said, but he didn’t know where to go from there. His promise to James not to tell Laurie about the ossuary put him in a fix, because it was the only thing he wanted to tell her. He didn’t want to revisit his embarrassing behavior with Lou and Vinnie, and if he mentioned Shawn and the museum, he’d have to bring up the ossuary.
“Well, was it good full or bad full?”
“A little of both.”
Laurie leaned her hands on the edge of the sink. “So I guess you don’t want to talk about your day.”
“Sort of,” Jack said evasively. He felt penned in. “I’ve kinda given up on the crusade idea.”
“Why?”
“No one wants to hear criticism about alternative medicine, at least none of the people who use it, and there are a lot of people who use it. The only way I might influence their opinion is by having lots and lots of cases, which I’m not going to be able to find. I’m sure there are hundreds of cases locked up inside the OCME records, but there’s no way to get at them. I’m kind of spinning my wheels. The biggest problem is that the crusade is not keeping me from obsessing about you-know-who.”
“I guess I can understand, but it sounded like such a good idea when you told me about it Monday night. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault.”
“I know, but I’m still sorry. I know you need a diversion. I could use one myself.”
Jack winced at Laurie’s comment, exacerbating his omnipresent guilt of not sharing the burden of JJ’s illness. “I can well imagine you could use one,” he said. “Do you want to rethink the nurse idea so you could come back to work, maybe on a half-time basis?”
“Absolutely not!” Laurie said with an edge to her voice. “I didn’t mention the issue to bring it up for discussion.”
“Okay, okay,” Jack repeated, getting the message loud and clear.
“Anyone say anything about JJ since you spoke to Bingham and Calvin yesterday?”
“No one except Bingham himself.”
“That’s good. Maybe they’ll honor their word and respect our privacy.”
Jack walked over to the playpen and looked down at his son. He longed to bend down and pick him up and hold him against his chest to feel his heart beat, to feel his warmth and smell his sweet smell, but he didn’t dare.
There was also a more practical reason he was reluctant to pick him up—because he’d probably start to cry. Jack thought JJ’s extensive bone tumors caused him tremendous pain, which seemed to be aggravated when he was picked up.
“He’s been a real soldier today,” Laurie said, watching Jack observe the baby. “I hope this is the start of a new trend, because this has been a tough week.”
“Should I try to pick him up?” Jack asked, melting as he saw JJ smile up at him.
“Well . . .” Laurie debated. “It might be best to just l
et him be while he’s so quiet.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Jack said, relieved.
Guiltily, Jack turned away from JJ. He stepped behind Laurie and massaged her shoulders. She closed her eyes and leaned back against Jack’s hands.
“I’ll give you a half-hour to stop that,” she purred.
“You deserve it. I’m continually amazed at your patience with JJ. And thankful, too. I don’t want to beat a dead horse, but I don’t think I could do it.”
“You are in a different place than I am. You already lost two children.”
Jack nodded. Laurie was right, but he didn’t want to think about it.
“I’m sorry it rained so hard today,” Laurie said. “I guess it rained out your basketball for tonight.”
“It happens,” Jack said, starting to feel depressed. He always looked forward to the diversion his Friday-night basketball games afforded him. To avoid obsessing on the loss, he turned his thoughts to his new diversion: the ossuary and the idea that that coming morning he and the others would learn what was inside. He suddenly then remembered he had promised James that he would call him right after seeing Shawn.
Jack gave Laurie a final squeeze. “I think I’ll take a shower. What time are you planning for dinner, provided you’re not interrupted?”
“As if I can plan anything.” Laurie laughed good-naturedly. “Enjoy your shower and then come down. As usual, it will depend on the squirt and how long this amnesty lasts.”
Climbing the stairs, Jack again marveled at Laurie’s attitude. Despite everything she’d been through following JJ’s diagnosis, and everything she was destined to endure, she was still capable of putting it aside and pretending everything was normal. “If only I could be so giving,” Jack murmured to himself.
Inside the bathroom and still feeling a bit guilty, as if involved in some kind of conspiracy, Jack used his mobile phone to call James. He didn’t want to do it in front of Laurie, concerned that doing so would elicit a blizzard of questions, all of which he wouldn’t be able to answer without violating his promise.
“My savior!” James offered humorously, having seen Jack’s name pop up on his LCD screen.
“Is this a good time to talk?” Jack asked softly. “Sorry I failed to call right away. In fact, I biked all the way home, which is where I am now.”
“I have been saying my prayers, but He will understand if I take a break since you are one of my prayers. Tell me what happened. When is he going to open the ossuary?”
“I actually stopped in to see him at the Met. I was interested in seeing Saturninus’s letter.”
“What did it look like? Did it look authentic?”
“Very much so,” Jack said, and then paused. He suddenly heard JJ’s cry, which quickly grew louder. In a minor panic, he realized that Laurie was rapidly approaching. “Just a minute, James!” Jack pushed away from the sink, where he’d been leaning. Feeling even more guilty holding the phone, he opened the door just as Laurie was approaching with the unhappy infant. JJ was screaming, and his face was bright red.
Laurie’s expression reflected her exasperation. “Change of plans,” she said while gently bobbing the baby. “I’m thinking we’ll have to eat takeout again. You’ll have to run down to Columbus Avenue after your shower.”
Jack nodded and could tell she was quizzically eyeing the cell phone in his hand. He held it up. “I’m just on a quick call to someone about tomorrow’s plans.”
“I can see,” Laurie said. “In the bathroom?”
“Just before I was about to shower, I remembered I was supposed to call this person earlier.”
“Whatever,” Laurie said. “JJ and I will be lying down in the bedroom.” She moved on down the hall.
“I’ll be in there as soon as I finish the shower,” Jack called after her.
Jack closed the door, wondering if he was going to have to explain himself more. Returning to the phone, he apologized to James.
“No apology needed,” James insisted. “I’m just crushed I’ve been reduced to a mere someone.”
“Sorry to sound so impersonal. I’ll explain next time I see you.”
“That sounds like a newborn.”
“Four months.”
“You didn’t tell me. Congratulations!”
“Thank you. Now, back to Shawn and the letter. As I said, it looked authentic because it appeared very old, with edges so dark they almost looked burnt. Of course, I couldn’t read any of it since it’s written in Greek.”
“I surely wouldn’t have expected you to be able to read it,” James said. “Was he happy about you obtaining permission for them to use the lab at the OCME DNA building?”
“He was thrilled.”
“When are they starting?”
“Tomorrow. Actually, I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten in touch with you. He told me he was going to stop by the residence and pick up the ossuary, and then meet me in front of the DNA building before eight.”
“Typical Shawn,” James said. “Thinking of others has never been his strong suit. I’ll give him a call as soon as we hang up.”
“He’s extremely excited about this discovery. He sees it as his path to glory and comeuppance for the Church. My guess is that he feels strongly that if the Church is wrong in relation to the Virgin Mary, it can be wrong in other arenas.”
“I agree, but I am also confident of his strong sense of ethics, despite his questionable sense of morality. Among other issues, he and I have argued endlessly about sex, which he believes is a gift to humanity in exchange for the burden of having to anticipate our death. He believes sex should be enjoyed, and he’s angry at the Church for its propensity to label as sin any aspect of sex beyond a narrow interpretation of its procreative role. But he knows right from wrong in every other arena, which is why I’m confident he will realize that he cannot prove any bones inside the ossuary are those of the Virgin Mary. Saturninus’s letter is certainly suggestive, but as we’ve discussed, it all rests on Simon Magus. Did Simon tell Saturninus the truth? No one knows, and no one will be able to know.”
“What about the Gospel of Simon that Shawn expects to find in the ossuary?”
“What about it?” James asked hesitantly.
“What if it talks about this specific issue?”
“I hadn’t really thought of that,” James confessed. “I suppose it is a possibility. That would complicate things.” There was a moment of silence. “You are supposed to be helping me, not vice versa,” he added with a nervous laugh.
“Sorry,” Jack said. “But consider this. Saturninus said something about Simon being disappointed that the bones didn’t convey to him the healing power by themselves. That means that Simon was convinced the relics were real.”
“Okay, that’s enough!” James pleaded. “At this point, you’re just making me feel less secure in my thinking. Even if what you say is true, there’s still the issue of hearsay.”
“You are reaching for a technicality when you say something like that. The ossuary will be opened tomorrow. Let’s wait and see what’s in it. It could be cow bones and a scroll that’s pure fictional grandiosity.”
“You’re right,” James said. “My anxiety has me envisioning the worst.”
“I’ve asked Shawn if he would mind if I observed, and he said I was welcome. I also asked if he would like to take advantage of the OCME’s new anthropology department, and he said he would, provided that no one was told the identity of the individual.”
“Does that mean the bones will be able to be identified as human, and the gender determined right away?”
“If an anthropologist sees them, absolutely.”
“If you are there, will you call me as soon as you can?”
“Of course! And I hope I’ll be able to put your mind at rest.”
“Oh, glory days! I will pray that such will be the case.”
After appropriate good-byes, Jack hung up. He opened the bathroom door. JJ was still crying, more insistently
than before. Once again it was going to be fast food, and a painful evening.
20
7:15 A.M., SATURDAY, DECEMBER 6, 2008
NEW YORK CITY
As the sun rose above the buildings to the east, it looked as if a million diamonds were scattered across Sheep Meadow in Central Park. Even with his cycling sunglasses, Jack had to squint into the dazzling glare.
He had awakened an hour earlier despite the fact that he and Laurie had been up most of the night with a very unhappy baby. For a few minutes he had watched the play of light on the bedroom ceiling, obsessing about how they were going to manage to get through the next few months until they could possibly restart JJ’s treatment. With no real answers, he’d slipped from the warmth of his bed, dressed, and breakfasted on cold cereal. Leaving a note for Laurie that said simply, “Off to OCME—call me on my cell when you have the time,” he’d hit the street just as dawn was breaking.
The air was arctic. Despite his exhaustion, Jack felt wonderfully alive as he pedaled south. The mystery of the ossuary would either blow up in a puff of smoke or rise to another more fascinating level. And unlike his friend the archbishop, Jack hoped it would be the latter.
Jack regretted that Laurie was to have no relief. Her day was going to be the same emotional disaster as yesterday and the day before. A good day was defined as one that was less bad.
Twenty minutes later, Jack pulled into one of the OCME loading bays to leave his bike where he knew it would be safe. It wasn’t much of an inconvenience. All it meant was walking the final four blocks south to the DNA building, which turned out to be pleasant in the crisp, clear morning.
He glanced at his watch. His timing was near perfect. It was five of eight. He checked with security to make sure Shawn and Sana hadn’t arrived early. As he’d assumed, the couple had yet to be seen. When Jack knew Shawn back in college, Shawn was always late.
