105

Standing at the back of the church, he could see only that Livia Pietro and Thomas Kelly had been escorted by a monk to the Magdalene chapel. But he didn’t need to be near to see—to know—what they were doing. When he’d gotten the call telling him they’d left the apartment, he’d gone out, too, into the fresh Rome morning. He didn’t try to follow them. Anywhere they had it in mind to go was their own business and they had his blessing. Anywhere but here. He came straight to Santa Maria Maddalena, hoping that they wouldn’t appear, but knowing they would.

He’d never been sure how much of the truth Lorenzo Cossa knew. It was possible, he’d thought, that though the contents of the document Livia Pietro and Thomas Kelly had just found were known to the Cardinal, its hiding place might not be. It had also seemed possible that, even if he knew, he hadn’t had a chance to pass his knowledge on. When Livia and Kelly walked into the church, though, that possibility was lost. He took heart when it became clear that they didn’t know what next step to take, but the resourcefulness they’d proved yesterday came into play here, too. He wasn’t sure how they’d done it and it didn’t matter: once they’d found the statue, it was all but assured they’d find the treasure it held.

This day was a long time coming, but it was always bound to come. He’d been given, not instructions to follow, but the immeasurable honor and immense responsibility of deciding what to do when it came. He’d pondered the question long and hard, never coming to a conclusion. Now he’d reached one. Now he had to.

Stepping from the shadows, the Pontifex strode forward.