“Regular as clockwork, you are,” Andrew said when he realized it was Jeffrey calling. “Still off on your travels this week?”
“Tomorrow,” Jeffrey replied.
“Won’t do me any good to ask where, will it?”
“Not a bit.”
“No, didn’t think so.” Andrew gave a jolly sigh. “Have to tell you, lad. I’m having the time of my life reading about all these lovelies. Something I didn’t know the first thing about before.”
“A whole new world.”
“That’s it exactly. Not to mention the three buys I’ve made so far. Good bit of brass, they were.”
“Alexander says to tell you they’re all really first-rate.”
“Yes, I thought so myself.” His tone sobered. “Nothing on the chalice, I’m afraid.”
Jeffrey did not try to hide his disappointment. “I can’t stop hoping.”
“No, nor I. I did come across something rather interesting, though. Found a description and a sketch of what looks like the chalice in question.”
“The one we brought from Cracow or the one we took back?”
“The only one I’ve seen, whichever one that is. I assume the one you’re looking for, I ruddy well hope so, seeing as how that’s the one I’ve got my eyes peeled for. And from what you’ve said, on the surface there isn’t much difference between the two.”
“Sorry. Stupid question.”
“Yes, it was. No matter. Case of nerves does that to a body. Anyway, it says here, hang on, let me see if I can lay my hands on it.” The phone was dropped, then Jeffrey heard the sounds of rummaging. Andrew returned with, “Yes, here it is. Found it in one of the old tomes you brought by, dated 1820. From the looks of it, the book hasn’t been opened in over a century. Says that in 1475 a chalice was designed by this goldsmith called Bertolucci for the Holy See. What a name, the Holy See. Sounds like some great marble bath with a dozen gilded cupids spouting scented water. Anyway, one chalice was made in silver and gold with a secret compartment as a reliquary, while two others were produced at the same time without this compartment, so that the reliquary could be secured in the Vatican vaults while a similar chalice was used during Mass and other religious ceremonies.”
Jeffrey felt a peal of hope pick up the pace of heart. “Very interesting.”
“Yes, isn’t it just.”
“I don’t know what it means, though.”
“No, nor I. Perhaps you ought to run this lot by the old gent, see what he can make of it. Tell him it appears to me that the thick plottens, or whatever it is they say in the spy flicks.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Pass on my regards while you’re at it.”
“I will, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. This favor I’m doing, turns out it’s loads of fun. Not to mention the odd commission.”
“You’re a big help, Andrew.”
“Not yet, I’m not. But there’s always hope.”
Jeffrey hung up, turned back to where Katya and Alexander waited. “Andrew’s found something.”
“So it sounded,” Alexander said.
“One of the older tomes described what appears to be our chalice, and provided a small sketch. Interestingly enough, three chalices were made, only one of which had the secret compartment for the relic. Apparently they were made in Rome. For the Vatican.”
“Rome,” Alexander said. “Our dear friend the Count will be most pleased to hear that he has been vindicated after all.”
Jeffrey nodded. “He was so sure he had seen it before.”
“The man has a positively incredible memory. People take him for a fool all too often, but behind that clownish exterior rests a brilliant mind, one that has lofted him up from obscurity to immense wealth.”
“And his interest in antiques is borderline fanatic,” Jeffrey added.
“What was it he said,” Katya asked, “something about having seen the same chalice in Italy?”
“I don’t have to remind you,” Jeffrey mimicked, “of the exclusive circles I travel in while visiting Rome.”
“Let’s take this one step at a time,” Katya suggested. “We’ve learned that there is definitely a chalice with a secret compartment and two other chalices very similar to it.”
“And the chalices were made in Rome for the Vatican,” Alexander added. “Or at least so this book has declared.”
“We need to follow up on this,” Jeffrey agreed.
“Indeed. Do these chalices exist, and is one of them still in the Vatican collection? That’s what we need to know next,” Alexander said.
“I know my way around the university libraries,” Katya offered. “I could check to see if this reliquary is catalogued anywhere in the official Vatican collections.”
“Splendid,” Alexander declared. “Jeffrey, when we arrive in Cracow tomorrow, while you begin your work on the next shipment, I shall make my report to Rokovski.”
“Not Karlovich?”
Alexander shook his head. “The less I see of that man, the better. There is something about him which I find positively disagreeable.” He looked at Katya. “My dear, I shall need you to assist Mrs. Grayson from time to time in the shop.”
“And to spend every possible moment in the library stacks,” Katya added for him.
“Precisely. I shall return the day after tomorrow. Unless your research requires more time, the following day you shall travel out to assist Jeffrey.”
“I’ll start first thing tomorrow morning,” she assured him.
“Excellent.” Alexander patted his knees with evident satisfaction. “This is most reassuring. I was positive that the crafting of the piece I returned was so exquisite as to make it impossible for it to be modern imitation.”
“And now there are three,” Katya said.
“Perhaps.” Alexander nodded. “If so, it explains the situation at least in part.”
Jeffrey asked, “But why would anyone have switched them?”
“That,” Alexander agreed, “is a question we must diligently pursue.”
****
Jeffrey rented a car upon their arrival at the Cracow airport. The driver Alexander had used in the past was now working daily for Gregor, either transporting purchased antiques or aiding with one of the numerous children’s projects. Alexander acted as navigator on their drive into the night-darkened town, guiding him through streets whose names had been rendered out-of-date by the demise of Communism.
“Good evening, Alexander,” Gregor said in greeting when they arrived at his minuscule apartment. “Welcome back.”
“Hello, Cousin,” Alexander replied wearily, returning the formal double kiss. “You are looking well.”
“Thank you, I am feeling marvelously fit for a winter’s eve.” Gregor turned to Jeffrey and smiled warmly. “My dear young friend, what a joy it is to see you again. Come in, come in.”
Once they were seated and the formalities of offering tea were completed, Gregor turned his attention to Alexander. “Tell me how you have been, Cousin.”
Alexander made a visible effort to push aside the flight fatigue. “We continue to receive an excellent response from the gala, I am happy to say. A number of new patrons have joined our cause.”
“That was not what I was asking, but I am glad for you nonetheless.”
Alexander looked at him sharply. “Why do I detect a note of condemnation in your voice?”
“I do not seek to condemn,” Gregor replied.
“Criticize then. It is there clear as day.”
Gregor sipped at his tea before replying quietly, “We are told in Proverbs not to boast about the day. The Hebrew word is hellal, which means praise when applied to God, but boast when applied to man. Do you see? When we place ourselves in the spotlight, we assume a strength we do not have. We are indulging in self-worship, or self-praise. We have robbed the Master of what He gave to us only on loan, and claimed it for ourselves.”
“I do not think I seek to praise myself,” Alexander protested, his voice lacking its customary strength. “And neither does the bishop. I have spent considerable time with him recently. He is a most admirable man, and he speaks of God in terms which are much easier for me to follow than those of others whom I do not care to name.”
“My dear cousin,” Gregor replied. “I seriously doubt that the Lord will deem to speak to your heart through the bishop.”
Alexander looked genuinely peeved. “Why on earth not? Besides you and Jeffrey here, the bishop is the person with whom I feel most comfortable discussing this whole affair.”
“Precisely for that reason do I think He will select another.”
Alexander showed alarm. “You don’t suggest I contact one of those glossy television pundits, do you?”
“I think you should do away entirely with the thought of finding God through those who have achieved worldly fame.”
“And pray tell, why should I? I am simply seeking to meet people in keeping with my own nature.”
“It is not your nature that we are discussing here.”
Alexander swatted at the words. “I will have none of your vague hints and mysterious wanderings.”
“All right, then. What if God has something else in mind?”
“Why should He? The bishop speaks a language I can understand.”
“What if God chooses to use a different voice?” Gregor persisted. “The cry of a lonely child, for instance. Will you hear that in a bishop’s chamber? Or what if He speaks through a woman of the streets? What if He calls to you from the bitter cold of an old man’s empty hearth, or the shameful solitude of a prison cell?”
Alexander shifted uncomfortably. “Why is it that your questions tear at me, Gregor?”
“Perhaps because God may choose to speak through me just now, though that is only something you and He can tell. In any case, I hope it is not just me behind these words.”
Alexander gave his cousin a hard look. “I suppose the next thing you’ll be saying is that I should tell others about this mystery called faith.”
Gregor gave him an easy smile. “Where would you be today if someone had not told you about Christ?”
Alexander remained silent for quite some time. Finally he stood, turned toward the door, and said over his shoulder, “I shall think upon what you say.”
“Search for your answers within God’s Word,” Gregor said. “And in prayer. Remember it is His voice you should be listening for. His word to you is something only you will hear, and only within the depths of a hungry heart.”
Jeffrey waited to speak until he could hear Alexander’s measured tread upon the lower floor’s landing. “I feel so uncomfortable sitting here while he talks with you like that.”
“Don’t let it trouble you,” Gregor replied. “He needs you just now, you see, especially when meeting with me. He is afraid of facing the Lord alone. He needs a friend. Someone he can trust. Someone who will share the quest with him.”
“I like to think I’m his friend,” Jeffrey said.
“Of that you need never doubt,” Gregor assured him. “Alexander himself speaks of you in those terms, and he is not one to bandy such a word lightly about.”
“I wish I could help him more.”
“Always remember that the very nicest compliment you could pay my cousin is to declare him a patriot,” Gregor replied. “He is struggling with the utterly alien concept of a faith that calls for him to trust in the unseen, and he is trying to place it into terms that he can fathom. So, he is seeking to reach God through actions tied to his patriotism and his desire to rebuild the artistic heart of his homeland.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you,” Jeffrey declared. “You praise Alexander for making the same mistakes as I do, or at least that’s how it seems. Then you turn around and tell me to reach for the stars.”
“I urge you to reach higher than my beloved cousin,” Gregor replied calmly, “because that is the call I hear within my heart. I look at Alexander and see a man doing all that he can to come to grips with his newfound faith.”
Jeffrey asked dispiritedly, “And what do you see when you look at me?”
“Once a mason showed Michelangelo a block of marble and said, it’s of no value; there’s a flaw right the way through it. Michelangelo replied, it’s of value to me. You see, there’s an angel imprisoned in it, and I am called to set the angel free.” Gregor’s eyes shone with a burnished light. “When I look at you, my friend, I see a man striving to grow wings.”
Once at their hotel, Jeffrey bade Alexander a good-night, only to call his room an hour later. “Sorry to bother you, but I’ve received an urgent fax from Katya.”
“Wait a moment.” There was the sound of Alexander sitting up and turning on the light. “All right. I’m ready.”
“I’m not sure I understand what she’s saying,” Jeffrey began tentatively.
“Then let us apply two heads to the problem,” Alexander replied.
“ ‘My research has turned up important information pertaining to the chalice,’ Jeffrey read. “ ‘Nothing conclusive, but it is perhaps another piece in the puzzle.’ ” He paused, not sure of Alexander’s reaction to the remaining portion.
“Is that all?”
“No,” he said slowly. “There’s a little more.”
“Well, read it, Jeffrey, read it. It is far too late for dramatics.”
“ ‘I have received a call from our lawyer colleague in regard to the room decorations which we recently discussed. It appears that events are developing at a rather rapid pace. Because of what she said, I have moved my departure up to tomorrow morning. Perhaps you would prefer to postpone your own meeting until after we have had a chance to speak.’ ”
“She was right to be discreet,” Alexander said, fully awake now.
“Is this about—”
“It must be. There is nothing else that might justify such a move on her part. Thank you for this little gift, Jeffrey. I shall certainly repose with a lighter heart, thinking that perhaps I might have some good news to pass on to Rokovski tomorrow.”
“She said it was not conclusive,” Jeffrey reminded him.
“I was not speaking of the chalice,” Alexander replied. “Good-night.”