Chapter Four

Darkness

Booth and Brennan had both encountered some very unique crime scenes over the years, but nothing quite prepared them for the experience of descending into the burial tombs under St. Priscilla. While Brennan looked appropriately eager to be in such a location, clearly reveling in the opportunity as an anthropologist, Booth felt a strange sense of trespassing on the territory of the dead. Every scent and sight memory of a childhood in the Catholic Church was magnified a hundred times, putting his mind into overload.

Signor Moretti had met them at the rear of the property on which the catacombs were located. The estate itself was impressive, but it was nothing compared to the gothic chapel with its archaic features and decorations. Beyond the chapel, a small path lined by weathered olive trees had led them to the mouth of the tombs. As Signor Moretti was preparing to ask the guards to stand aside, the group was joined by a woman in a flowing habit, her rosary making a soft clinking noise as she walked.

"Buon giorno," she greeted them with a slight nod of her head, her hands tucked away beneath her scapula. Booth wondered how she could stand to be in the summer sunlight in the mass of black robes. She didn't seem to be the least bothered by it.

"Ah, Sister Angela," Signor Moretti said. He turned to Booth and Brennan. "Sister was one of the first to discover the scene. I've asked her to be here to escort you to the location. The tombs can be rather confusing if you're not familiar with them."

Brennan turned her attention to the nun.

"You have a lot of knowledge of the catacombs?" she asked, shifting her hold on the bag carrying her equipment and looking rather impatient to be moving.

"Yes," Sister Angela replied, her voice laced with an accent. "I have been associated with St. Priscilla for fifteen years. The activity in the catacombs has been under my supervision for the last eight."

"Can you tell us what happened the day you discovered the scene?" Booth asked.

"I was at mid day prayers. One of the novices came to me, filled with urgency, and took me to the tombs," the Sister explained, her eyes sorrowful. "The poor child… to come across that sight by herself. God preserve us all from such a fate."

"He doesn't seem to be doing a very good job so far," Brennan muttered just loud enough. A sharp jab to her ribs made her start. "Ow!"

She looked over to find Booth glaring at her, his expression clear as day even behind his sunglasses. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, but she caught the warning.

"Sister, I apologize for my partner," he began, turning his attention to the nun, who gave a slight wave of her hand before it disappeared back into her robes.

"We are used to all kinds here," she said as an explanation.

"I'd like to see the crime scene now," Brennan said firmly, growing tired of standing around.

Sister Angela looked to Signor Moretti who gave a nod. The Sister spared one more unreadable glance at Brennan before turning and heading towards the mouth of the tombs, her robes taking on a very dramatic look as they billowed behind her. Setting her jaw, Brennan quickly followed and Booth was not far behind. He jogged a few steps to catch up and positioned himself so that he was at her shoulder.

"Bones, let's try to keep the smack talk to a minimum here, okay?" he said quietly in her ear, doing his best not to trip over her as they started down the narrow stone steps.

Brennan shivered, unsure if it was the sudden change in temperature as the entered the tombs or Booth's breath hitting her just below her earlobe.

"I don't know-"

"Just… be respectful."

"I'm always respectful of other cultures," she whispered harshly. Booth rolled his eyes, though the gesture was unseen by Brennan. "I'll respect them as long as they respect my need to do my job properly."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They fell into a heavy silence then, the only sounds reaching their ears being their footsteps on the dense earth floor. In a matter of moments, the entrance to the tombs was out of sight and the only light source came from yellow tinted floodlights placed strategically throughout the passageway. At first, the tombs seemed rather unimpressive. The walls were lined with marble plaques bearing engravings in Latin and Italian. It was not unlike a modern day mausoleum. Booth watched Brennan as she walked determinedly through the tombs, her focus never shifting from Sister Angela. He was surprised, expecting her to be more curious about their surroundings.

"So what put you on such bad terms with the Pontifical Commission?" he asked, feeling the need to fill the time until they reached the scene.

He was met by a heavy sigh.

"It's a long story," Brennan said.

"Give me the short version," Booth prodded as they turned a corner, heading down an even narrower and darker passageway. As they moved along, he noticed that the plaques were now replaced with hollowed out niches, many of them labeled below the rectangular spaces. The air was becoming mustier.

"The Commission advertises itself as a supporter of Sacred Archaeology, claiming that they are working towards cataloguing and publicizing important artifacts that have been in possession of the Vatican for hundreds of years," Brennan explained, her voice becoming more intense as she continued. "Some of the artifacts are extremely important anthropologically and deserve to be in the public domain, but they're being held by the Vatican, many of them hidden away so that no one knows they exist anymore. There are rumors that they have an entire vault under the Vatican itself that holds artifacts since before the supposed birth of Christ."

"Bones," Booth hissed, wondering why he was still surprised at her audacity. "Do you understand where we are?"

"Yes, I do," Brennan slowed a bit and looked over her shoulder at him, pointing to one of the tile labels beneath a niche. "We're in a Jewish tomb. I hope you don't think I'm offending anyone here."

Booth stopped, dumbfounded, his gaze following her hand. Sure enough, he had failed to notice that the graves were labeled in Hebrew. He looked up, intending to ask her to explain, and noticed that she was disappearing around a corner and out of sight.

"Later, then," he muttered, hurrying to catch up.

He slowed immediately as he rounded the corner.

The crime scene hit him like a sucker punch in the gut. They had entered a dead end in the tombs, the room a mere twelve by twelve at the most. On the far wall was a single niche, carved out lengthwise so that the shrouded body was displayed from the side. In front of the wall, a large slab of rock had been positioned; whether as an altar or a something else it was uncertain. It didn't really seem to matter. All that Booth could focus on was the nearly decayed body splayed across the rock, arms at right angles to the body, legs at forty-five. The waxy remains of candles were everywhere. What looked to be rotting fruit and dried out branches lined the bottom of the makeshift altar.

Booth glanced at Brennan, standing to his left with an equally horrified look on her face. Sister Angela had stopped at a safe distance, just inside the room but not any closer than she needed to be. It took a moment, but Brennan reclaimed her composure and got to work, setting her bag down and extracting her tape recorder and camera.

"Permission to retrieve?" she asked habitually.

When she was met with silence, she glanced over her shoulder at the nun. Sister Angela studied the anthropologist for a moment, then shifted her gaze to Booth.

"Only from the crime," she answered. Her eyes fell on the body of the young girl and she crossed herself. "Santa Madonna, prega per noi."

Booth watched the nun as she made a hasty retreat from the room, clearly unnerved by the situation and relying on prayer to keep her calm. His attention was brought back to the grisly scene before him when he heard Brennan's recorder click into action.

"Female, late teens, Caucasian," Brennan dictated, circling the body. "No obvious blunt force trauma, but I'll have to make a more precise decision once I get the body into a lab. No restraints on the limbs, suggesting victim was either already dead at time of positioning or restraints were removed at some point postmortem. Again, more thorough examination of the body will reveal any trauma due to restraints."

"You want a team called in?" Booth asked.

"Yes, as soon as possible," Brennan answered. "I'll take pictures now, and then by the time they get here the scene will be ready for transport."

She placed her recorder in a back pocket and lifted her camera to begin the process. Booth began inspecting the room as she recorded the scene. After two shots, Brennan stopped and look down at the camera, frowning.

"Flash isn't working," she mumbled. Booth walked over to her, his hand out,

"Lemme see," he offered. Just as he was about to take the camera from her, a soft pop resounded from the passageway outside, and the room was plunged into darkness.