Vittoria sat on a chair, a cup of tea in her hands and a jacket around her shoulders to keep her warm. The death of the latest preferiti had shocked her more than she had thought. Sara stood at the huge window in the room, looking out at St. Peter's Square where carabinieri were busy clearing the piazza. She was half listening to the Camerlengo reading out the letter Richter had found at the corpse. "…from within your walls to squeeze life from the Bishop. He's actually claiming responsibility for the death of His Holiness. That's ridiculous. He died of a stroke."
"It implies the Illuminati murdered him with his own medication," Ernesto said, pointing at the significant line in the letter. "Down here. With man's solution we stilled his heart. With his own needle did we pierce his unholy veil. Did the Holy Father take any kind of medication by injection?"
"Tinzaparin," the Patrick answered. "He had thrombophlebitis. He took an injection every day. But no one knew that."
"Someone knew."
"Well, he had health concerns and seizures as well. But he took steps to make sure he was watched, for safety. He didn't want it made public, so we have no reason to discuss it," Richter interposed.
"Tinzaparin is lethal in the wrong dosage. An overdose could cause massive internal bleeding and brain haemorrhages. It might look like a stroke at first, but in a few days his body would show signs. This could easily be examined," Vittoria explained.
"Miss Vetra, in case you 're not aware of it papal autopsy is prohibited by Vatican law. We're not going to defile His Holiness's body just because his enemies claim…"
"But why would they send this letter now?" Ernesto interrupted Richter midsentence.
"Well, to cause panic," Patrick suggested. "The sun will blind at midnight and neither police nor professors can stop it."
"He knows I'm here."
"Obviously they were hoping this letter would become public. We might be wise to pre-empt their next attempt by making an announcement of our own to refute this absurd claim."
"That's out of the question," Father Simeon interrupted. "Cardinal Strauss has insisted this entire matter be kept internal."
"He shouldn't even be aware of it. He's locked in conclave," Patrick returned.
"His final instructions before sealing the doors were very clear."
"Cardinal Strauss does not dictate Vatican protocols."
"As you say, yet, technically now that conclave has begun it's his privilege and duty to control public announcements. I've drafted a release about the incident in the piazza but any other statements are specifically prohibited. For that Cardinal has asked me to remind you we have a chimney."
Sara caught Richter smiling at Father Simeons response. What was it with the ego fights? She simply rolled her eyes and kept looking out of the window.
"Commander Richter, the search for the device?" Patrick then wanted to know.
"Well, we've turned the power on and off about 20 percent of Vatican City. Nothing on the video yet."
"We're running out of options. How long would you need to evacuate everyone?"
"If I pull all my men from the search for the bomb, 30 minutes," with that Richter left the room.
"Mr. Langdon. You have been right so far about the path. It's now 9:15. How quickly can you find the next church?" Patrick turned his attention to Robert who had been studying a map of Rome in the meantime. "The lines on the carving pointed east, away from Vatican City. But there were five of them, so there's room for error. About 20 churches intersect those lines. None of them have names that invoke fire. So a Bernini sculpture must be inside one of them that does. We'll need to get into the archives to find it."
"Would you escort Mr. Langdon?" Patrick asked of Ernesto, who nodded. "Yes, Father." Before they left someone handed Vittoria a briefcase, which held the journals from Geneva inside. "Silvano's journals. The killer's name could be in here. May I stay?"
"Please. Fine, of course," Patrick nodded.
With his eyes Robert checked if she would be okay and Vittoria reassured him by nodding her head. The others instantly left for the archives again.
"Voglio che tu vada con lui questa volta." [I want you to go with him this time.] Ernesto said on the way. "Ma non ci è permesso…" [But we are not allowed…]
"Non mi interessa." [I don't care.]
Sara nodded. "Ok. Ti prendi la colpa…" [Ok. You take the blame.]
"Come sempre." [As always.] He smiled and she winked at him.
"What are we looking for now?" Sara wanted to know once they were downstairs.
"Church assets," Robert answered.
"Sorry what?"
"Artwork. It's valuable. Corporations tend to keep track of their holdings."
They entered a room labelled Banco Vaticano. As Sara entered behind him, Robert briefly turned around to shoot her a questioning look. "I thought you weren't allowed in here."
"Ernesto said to not leave your side," she simply stated.
Robert rolled his eyes. "It wasn't me, it was her."
Feeling a bit dizzy, Sara sat down on the small table opposite Robert who was now scanning through a book. She surveyed his concentrated look and as he finally looked up to turn the book around to her she looked into the same kind eyes that she saw in the mirror everyday. Taken aback she only noticed that he was talking to her when he had almost finished his sentence. "What does this say in Italian right here next to the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa?" Robert pointed at a line of text. "Right there."
Sara sighed. "Ehm… moved at suggestion of the artist."
"Moved? To another church. At the suggestion of Bernini?" Robert turned the book to look at it again. "I don't know," she confessed.
"Here translate this for me… I'm looking for a reference to fire," he pleaded and shoved the book towards her again.
"Fires… Seraphim, meaning the fiery one… His great, golden spear, a point of fire. Then woman left completely afire," she cited.
"Ecstasy of Saint Teresa. Saint Teresa on fire. So this sculpture was moved to this church?"
Before Sara could answer the lights in the archives went off and the alarm sounded, indicating that the oxygen feed had stopped. "Why did they shut down the system? They know we're down here," Robert said in shock. "If there's no power, there's no oxygen," Sara added and stood.
"Can we get out?"
"The door is electronic," Sara said while she tried to press the button that would normally open the door. "Well, that's disappointing," Robert mused.
"Command do you read me? Power is off. Oxygen is very low. Come in. Can you read me?" Sara tried to reach someone through the intercom but nobody responded. She then tried the walkie-talkie but they were beyond reach. "Can you get anything?" Robert wanted to know and Sara shook her head. "No. The walls are lead-lined. There's no signal."
Robert then checked his watch, they didn't have much time left. Sara's eyes widened as she caught a glimpse at the design of the watch. Mickey Mouse. "Where…" she began but couldn't finish her train of thought as her already tired body slowly started to get heavier and her vision blurred. Robert went on to think of a way to break through the acrylic glass walls. Sara let herself slide down against a bookshelf and watched as Robert climbed onto a different one, shaking it loose of its mounting and violently upsetting it against the glass. However, nothing happened. The last thing she remembered was Robert reaching for her gun before she lost consciousness.
The professor shot a few rounds at the glass, leaving it as much damaged so that he could break through it with only little pressure against the upset bookshelf. Only a moment later did the power go on again. Robert sighed as he sat up. Still out of breath, Robert staggered over to the young woman on the floor. Sara was slowly coming back to life as Robert shook her shoulders slightly. Still groggy he helped her on her feet. "What happened?" she asked and then remembered. "What time is it?" she asked alarmed. "Fifteen to ten. We gotta hurry."
With a hand around her hip, Robert supported the young woman as they made their way outside as fast as they could. Just as they left the door, Ernesto pulled up, jumping out of the car and running towards the two. "What happened?" he wanted to know as he took over the support of Sara from Robert. "I'm fine," she stated as she leaned against his strong arms. Ernesto shot Robert a look, concern written all over his face. The professor briefly explained what had happened in the archives before he continued to the subject at hand. "Santa Maria della Vittoria. Do you know it?"
"Yes I do," Ernesto answered.
"It's the next church," Robert explained and the three of them got into the car. Sara took the seat beside Ernesto, as Robert climbed in at the back. With blue lights switched on and at full throttle, Ernesto drove the car to the next destination. Still full of concern he took Sara's hand, which didn't stay unnoticed by Robert. Sara closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool window breathing in steadily. "I think someone just tried to kill me," Robert then announced.
"Professor I promise you we had no idea…" Ernesto countered. And he would never risk her life.
"He knows I'm here."
"Yes."
"You heard me ask permission. You gave me an escort."
"We had no idea that portions of our white zones were cross-wired with that building. Commander Richter was extending the search. If he had known the archives were on that grid, he never would have killed the power," the Italian explained.
"Or there is the other possibility. Is it conceivable the Illuminati have infiltrated the Swiss Guard?" Robert suggested. Ernesto looked at the professor in the mirror and hesitated before he said: "Perhaps." Sara opened her eyes in shock and looked at her partner. No matter how much she hated Richter, she didn't think he had anything to do with it. 'You don't really believe that do you?' Her eyes asked and he shrugged.
"I wanna speak to the camerlengo," Robert pleaded.
"The camerlengo is unavailable. He's found evidence that the Holy Father was indeed murdered. He is seeking guidance."
"From whom?"
"From God," Ernesto stated bluntly.
Although she couldn't see, she could clearly feel Robert rolling his eyes.
"Make an effort. Please," Ernesto pleaded.
"Yeah, yeah," Robert sighed.
Smiling slightly to herself, Sara leaned back in the leather seat and closed her eyes once more.