The Second Messiah

“It breaches nothing. The Vatican kept to its word that no damaging material would be revealed. That’s what was important. And believe me, it was certainly damaging, if not sensational.”

“What did the scroll contain?”

Cassini removed an envelope from his pocket and held it between his thumb and forefinger. “Read for yourself. There is a revelation about a second messiah. A man who assumed the identity of Jesus and whose life and historical existence may cast great doubt upon the narrative of the Bible. And there are even more disturbing revelations almost too frightening to contemplate.”

Cassini handed the envelop to Weiss. “What you’ll read is not a complete translation of Robert Cane’s scroll, because part of it was destroyed by fire. However, enough material exists to ignite serious religious controversy. And once the Holy Father opens the archives, that controversy will only intensify. We both know of several texts found at Qumran that could unsettle the Jewish and Christian faiths.”

Weiss worriedly opened the envelope and read the single page. He ran a hand over his grim face. “Surely the pope knows the trouble he will cause by all this! Is he mad?”

Cassini plucked the page from Weiss, replaced it in the envelope, and tucked it back inside his pocket. “You want the truth, Julius? I suspect he is. That he even sees himself as another messiah sent to change the world. I also suspect that he is tortured by his theft and because—” Cassini halted in mid-sentence.

“Because what?” Weiss demanded.

“Robert Cane’s death twenty years ago may not have been an accident.”

“What makes you say that?”

Cassini sighed. “Sergeant Raul was in charge of the investigation. Privately, he told me something he never included in his report. That he had a vague suspicion the pickup’s hydraulic brake line had been tampered with. But there was so much fire damage to the vehicle it was impossible to prove.”

Weiss’s face darkened. “That’s the first I’ve ever heard of this. Who would have done such a thing?”

Cassini met his stare. “John Becket was one of the first on the scene.”

“Are you saying he had something to do with Robert Cane’s death?”

Cassini shrugged. “I could surmise a motive. Becket may have believed the scroll to be damaging to the church. Such a belief might have caused him to commit such a terrible crime out of a warped sense of loyalty. And the pope is tortured of late, of that I’m certain. I even began to wonder if he intends to make public his own guilt when he opens the archives.”

Weiss shook his head, the folds of his rubbery face quivering. “This all sounds very troubling, Umberto. With so much at stake, isn’t there any way to stop this madness?”

Cassini’s face was carved in stone, every muscle taut as he leaned in close and gripped Weiss’s arm. “Leave the pope to me. I believe I know how to solve that particular problem.”

Weiss raised his brow. “How?”

“For my plan to work, first, we must find Jack Cane and retrieve the scroll. Then we must destroy them both.”

95

ROME

9:20 A.M.

In a city renowned for museums, with more per square mile than any other capital on earth, the private museum in the Villa Panaro is one of the smallest and most unusual of all. Located in a Gothic-style building that was once owned by the infamous Borgia family in the fifteenth century, it doesn’t even have a nameplate.

That morning, with the rain lashing down and thunder grumbling in an ink-black sky, the arched entrance looked almost eerie. Two gas lamps on the walls either side of the entrance threw flickering shadows as Jack and Lela approached the building.

“Where exactly are we?” Lela asked as they halted below an elaborate array of stone gargoyles protruding from the roof parapet.

“Outside one of the most priceless private museum collections of Roman artifacts in the country, if not the world. I say private because it only opens to the public on certain days of the year, to avail of a tax break. If you’re lucky enough to know about it you just may get to peek inside.”

“Should I be impressed?”

“I think so. We’re talking the personal effects of Roman emperors and generals. As well as material unearthed at Pompeii—some really valuable gold and silver jewelry, town records, rare coins, and statues. There’s even a marble washbasin that once belonged to Julius Caesar.”

They had stepped out of the taxi a block away and walked the empty streets to the villa, just as the thunder and rain erupted. Lela looked up at the black-painted double entrance doors. “If the collection’s that priceless, where’s the security?”

Jack smiled and pressed a button on a metal intercom box. “You won’t see too many guards but the villa has a security system second to none, linked to a local police station around the corner.”

Lela shivered and rubbed her arms, feeling the chill in the morning air. “Are you sure your friend’s home?”