Chapter Thirty-Seven

Rome, 1901

Enigmatically, Holmes smiled at the pope, and asked innocently, “Is something wrong, Your Holiness?”

“What have you done?” the pope repeated excitedly. “Where is the image of Pope Julius?”

Holmes chuckled. “As you read Pope Alexander’s letter the other day, I was struck by his emphasis on the concept of ‘duality.’ Then when I saw the chain that bound the letter, I couldn’t help but notice the tiny projections. You told me you thought they might have been joined at one time or barring that, that they were imperfections in the work. I found it simply impossible to believe that the man who created the Pieta, working in conjunction with the genius behind the Mona Lisa, would present anything to his most powerful patron in less than perfect condition.

“Obviously, then, those projections served a purpose. I considered your description of the cameos and their cases and determined that Michelangelo had created not seven but 14 cameos. Half of them focused on the Deadly Sins while the remainder dealt with their antithetical counterparts, the Heavenly Virtues.

“Michelangelo carved the cameos on both sides, and the case allows the second image to remain hidden. During one of my early cases, I came across a ring that did the exact same thing, but I digress. It took me a few tries, but if you are looking at the image of a sin or vice, you must insert both projections with the words ‘vitium’ facing up and then turn them to the left or the ‘sinister’ side. That opens the mechanism - which I am fairly certain is the brainchild of Leonardo - and allows the cameo to be flipped. Simply turn it over, twist the keys and now it is locked in place.

“If you are looking at the virtuous side, both keys must be inserted with the word ‘virtutis’ facing up and turned to the right. It is really an ingenious locking mechanism.”

“Mr. Holmes, I am stunned,” said the pope. “You are right. If the rest of them function as this one does, and if the reverse images do indeed depict virtues rather than vices, then they do belong in the Vatican Museum.”

“Holmes,” I exclaimed, “You have solved a mystery that has eluded people for 400 years.”

“Yes,” he said, “I have solved a mystery, but solving the case is far more important.”

“Something tells me, I’m not going too far out on a tree here, but I am willing to bet that you have a plan, Mr. Holmes,” said the pontiff.

Holmes and I both smiled at the pope’s gentle malapropism, before my friend said, “I do, Your Holiness, but, once again, it will require your cooperation.”

“Unless it places my immortal soul in danger of damnation, you have it, Mr. Holmes,” said the pope.

“Then, here is what must be done,” said Holmes, who then proceeded to outline everything in great detail for Pope Leo.

“Having received the cameo as a token of Giolitti’s good faith, you must meet with him.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right,” said the pope.

“I should like you to schedule the meeting for tomorrow night at 7. Can that be done?” asked Holmes.

“I shall rearrange my itinerary,” said the pontiff. “I had planned to have dinner with a small group of cardinals from America, but that can always be pushed back a day.”

“When Giolitti arrives, you must keep him here for at least an hour.”

“Given our history and what is at stake, I should think that also seems quite likely.”

“Finally, when Giolitti leaves to retrieve the cameos, you must offer to have two members of the Swiss Guard accompany him if he wishes. If he refuses, as I have no doubt he will, you must try insisting, but ultimately, allow Giolitti to leave here unescorted.”

“As you wish,” said the pontiff, “But in order for him to agree to return the cameos, I must agree to settle the Roman Question in his favor.”

“If you do not settle it, you must at least appear to settle it,” said Holmes.

“I’m not certain that I follow you, Mr. Holmes,” said Pope Leo.

With that, my friend proceeded to outline several possible approaches that Giolitti might take in an effort to make the pope submit.

He and the pontiff tried to take into account every possible answer and objection that might be raised.

When they had finished, Holmes had me play the role of Giolitti, and the pope and I traded questions and answers, with Holmes constantly interjecting to offer advice to both of us.

It took close to two hours before Holmes was satisfied with the pontiff’s responses.

“Do you think I am ready?” asked the pope.

“I shall pray that you are,” said Holmes.

“Now, there are several other points on which you must reassure Signore Giolitti.” Holmes then proceeded to elucidate them one by one.

Although the pontiff expressed misgivings on one or two occasions, Holmes was eventually able to win him over. Listening to the two of them debate a variety of philosophical topics such as amphibologies and the doctrine of strict mental reservation, I was once again impressed by the breadth of Holmes’ knowledge on so many different topics. Holmes then explained the rest of the plan to the pontiff and shortly after, we parted.

As we walked through the square, I made my feelings known to Holmes.

“Watson, you flatter me. Still, while I much prefer the agony columns to the ‘City of God’ or the ‘Summa Theologica,’ I am, as you well know, an omnivorous reader with a strangely retentive memory for trifles.”

I sniffed, “I don’t think His Holiness would appreciate your dismissing the works of St. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas as ‘trifles.’”

“Perhaps, you’re right,” replied Holmes. “At any rate, it’s nearing five o’clock, and I am quite hungry. So I thought we might enjoy dinner and then make our way to the Teatro Costanzi, which gave ‘Tosca’ its world premiere last year. “Tonight, there is a performance of Rossini’s ‘Semiramide,’ which opened the opera house in 1880. I am also told there is a very promising soprano in the lead and an accomplished contralto singing Arsace. Are you interested?”

“Of course,” I replied.

“Excellent. Cardinal Oreglia has recommended a little osteria on the Via Monte Testaccio. He described it as totally unpretentious, and he said the food is among the best in Rome. I am going to assume that is high praise indeed, coming from such an obvious gourmand.”

Looking at my watch, I said, “We should have just enough time to enjoy our dinner and get to the theater before the first act begins.”

“Yes,” Holmes said, “let us savor this evening because tomorrow promises to be a day of uncertainty and quite possibly danger.”