“This way.” He motioned for Fabio to follow him. “Thankfully, our drawer is not far.”
Overhead lights clicked on automatically as they walked down the center aisle, illuminating each new area they entered. Like most first-time visitors, Fabio seemed surprised at the immense size of the underground facility. The cavernous room encompassed several acres. Most of the space was lined with rows of shelving, although there were a few open areas with tables used to examine documents and other items.
In order to protect the documents from damage and deterioration, the environmental conditions behind the sealed glass were carefully set and monitored. The temperature was kept at a cool ten degrees Celsius, while the relative humidity was maintained at a steady thirty-five percent. Unlike a few of his colleagues, Cortesi actually found the conditions pleasant to work in.
The motion-sensor lights were also a part of the protective system. Light of any kind was an enemy of document preservation, so the vault was kept in almost perpetual darkness. Even the lights themselves were housed in opaque covers, ensuring a dim luminescence.
Cortesi looked at Fabio. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. Is this your first time here?”
Fabio flinched at the question. The man was obviously not a conversationalist. “I’ve been to the Vatican twice before, but never here.”
Cortesi turned left at the second intersection. “Is Rome your territory?”
“Mostly the central part of Italy, yes.”
A minute later, they arrived at the row Cortesi was looking for then turned right. The relics housed in Section Three were ones that had not yet been examined by any of the curators. Like many organizations, the Vatican Secret Archives operated with a bare-bones staff. That meant many of the relics housed here would never be examined at all. However, that would not be the case with the Augustine papyri. Cortesi had already determined he’d move them to the top of his list.
Cortesi pulled out the flashlight and illuminated some of the numbered containers near the floor. Eventually, he found the one he was looking for and crouched. “Here we are.” He slid the drawer out of its slot. It was empty, save for the log they would both need to sign. He looked back over his shoulder. “May I have the package?”
“Yes.” The man slid the black satchel off his shoulder and placed it on the floor. He opened it and pulled out a flat box, which he passed to Cortesi. After confirming the item number on the exterior, Cortesi opened the box and removed a heavy-duty vinyl envelope. Inside were the clear-plastic sleeves containing the papyri. Cortesi examined each one carefully, making sure they matched the photographs he’d studied the night before. “Perfect.” He slid the sleeves back into the envelope then placed it in the drawer. “Now we just sign the paperwork, and we’ll be done.”
Fabio didn’t say anything, but Cortesi heard a zipper being zipped, followed by a rustling sound.
Cortesi signed and dated the log then held it over his shoulder. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just need your signature confirming everything was successfully put away.”
There was no response, so Cortesi turned and looked over his shoulder. For some reason, the driver was no longer in view. He waved the paper one more time. “Do you mind signing?”
There was a shuffling sound but still no response. Sensing something was amiss, Cortesi stood. A sharp object dug into his back. He shouted in pain and tried to squirm free, but the blade had already reached his vital organs.
Choking and coughing, Luca Cortesi fell forward onto the floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Night had fallen when Zane and Stegmann left the barracks. After a short walk down Via di Belvedere, they entered a tunnel that passed through a coral-colored building at the end of the street. On the other side, they emerged into a courtyard. The Vatican Museum complex rose up around them.
“Welcome to the Belvedere Courtyard.” Stegmann gestured toward the asphalt and the parked cars. “As you can see, we now use it as a parking lot.”
Zane looked up at the lighted windows. “It looks as if there’s still a lot of work going on.”
“The work never seems to end. Many of the curators tell me they can get more work done in the evening.”
“And all of these people need protection.”
“Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They say New York never sleeps. I could say the same thing about the Vatican.”
“This is a spiritual place, so I pictured everything shutting down well before midnight.”
“To some extent, it does. For example, the Holy Father retires to his chamber at eight thirty every night. But that’s not the case with all the priests. Are you familiar with the Old and New Gardens?”
Zane nodded. “The gardens on the west side of the Vatican. I’ve never been, but I’ve seen pictures.”
“It’s the most beautiful place within our walls. It’s not uncommon to find priests there throughout the night. Praying, meditating, talking.”
“I can assure that’s not what’s going on in New York.”
The two laughed, then Stegmann suddenly halted. He seemed to be looking north.
Zane stopped as well. “Something wrong?”
“Do you hear that?”
Zane heard only the distant sound of Rome traffic. As he continued to listen, another sound broke above the background noise. It was a pulsating, high-pitched whistle. It was impossible to pinpoint its precise location, but it seemed to be coming from a sand-colored building directly ahead.
Zane looked at Stegmann. “What is it?”
“It’s an alarm.” He was already sprinting forward.
Zane followed him across the parking area. After they skirted a row of buses, the bottom half of the building came into view. The whistle was loud here. Swiss Guards, priests, nuns, and a few parishioners swarmed the sidewalk in front of the entrance. A group of students had just come out, and their teacher appeared to be counting heads.
Two people came out of the building as they arrived. One of them — a nun — coughed uncontrollably. A member of the Swiss Guard was at her side, his head down and his arm around her waist. He guided her to the curb then continued out into the parking lot.
Stegmann pushed past a few people as he led Zane inside. The interior was hazy, and the stench of smoke hung in the air. Swiss guards stood at various points around the entrance hall, directing people toward the door and helping those who needed assistance. Stegmann rushed over to one of the guards barking commands. His nametag indicated it was Markus, who the commander had spoken to earlier.
“What happened?” Stegmann asked.
“A small fire broke out in the library.”
Stegmann’s eyes narrowed. “What was the cause?”
“I think they have it under control now. At least that’s—”
“How did it happen?” Stegmann asked, this time louder.
“We don’t know. All we know is it started in the library. I believe a few books caught on fire.”
“Have you called the fire department?”
“They’re on the way.”
“Good work.” Stegmann motioned for Zane to follow him toward a doorway on the other side of the entrance hall. Once they passed through, Zane knew they were in the library. The haze was heavier here, and water dripped from ceiling sprinklers, forming pools on the floor.
Without hesitating, Stegmann moved toward the bookshelves on the right. A large contingent of Swiss guards gathered in one of the aisles. As he took in the scene, Zane’s instincts told him the fire had been purposefully set. How else would it start among the books? Surely there wasn’t any wiring in the shelves. But why here? His heart beat a little faster as he remembered why he was there. Could the fire have been set to create a distraction? The timing was certainly suspicious.