Naples, 18th of June, 12:30
Three days to the summer solstice
We stood in silence looking at one another, unable to make sense of that confused picture whose outline we could sense but whose individual components eluded us.
The first thing that was clear to me was why Hašek had decided to involve me. I suspected, although I had not told Riccardo this, that he had decided a long time ago – well over two or three weeks – that it would be me who bore the burden of continuing the investigation he and Matteo began.
“It’s a promise I made to an old friend,” or something along those lines, he had said to me when I asked him why he wanted to entrust to me the precious thing of which he had spoken. The old friend was Matteo.
After a moment, Alma leaned back into the sofa where, after returning from the lab, we had sat to read some of the letters we found in the box.
“I never knew anything about this correspondence. I remember meeting Hašek, of course – a very nice person. He spent a few days in Naples, but other than that I knew nothing of all these letters between him and Matteo. And I knew nothing of my husband’s journeys with him.”
“You don’t need to justify yourself, Alma,” I said with a smile, “I haven’t said anything to anyone, at the express request of Hašek. And in light of what’s happened and what is happening now, I think I did the right thing. Hašek and Matteo had started studying the de Sangro to Saint-Germain correspondence after having managed to recover it. According to Riccardo, the Sicilian mentioned in the letters, Hašek received the manuscript from a mysterious character, but in reality it was Matteo who gave it to him. Perhaps Hašek wanted to conceal the identity of his Neapolitan colleague. In any case, the two discovered that the place that de Sangro and Saint-Germain called the Cathedral of the Nine Mirrors is in fact Notre-Dame de Chartres. And there, presumably, is hidden a mysterious thing known as the Sevenfold Solar Circle or the fountain of eternal youth or something. I have absolutely no idea how great the power hidden in this obscure object is, but someone killed Hašek to discover the secret.”
Alex, who meanwhile had stopped to look at one of the photos found in the casket, gestured to me. “Have you seen this, Lorenzo?”
“21.06/12… Hmm, it looks like a date followed by a time.”
“What do you think it is?”
“It looks like the photo of a stone or the fragment of a floor over which the floor plan of a church has been drawn. And that arrow seems to indicate a specific point on the floor plan itself. Maybe it’s supposed to indicate that something happens in that church on the twenty-first of June. The day of the summer solstice… I’m tempted to say that the church could be Chartres, but I don’t remember anything about any particular phenomena taking place there on the twenty-first of June.”
As I spoke, Alex was already on his smartphone and within seconds he had found the news that confirmed my suspicions.
“There you go, big brother – no need for any more conjecture.”
… Among the many mysteries of Chartres Cathedral is one which has always fascinated esotericists. On the twenty-first of June, the day of the summer solstice, at around noon, a ray of sunlight penetrates from the so-called window of Sant’Apollinare, in which the glassmakers deliberately left a gap. The beam moves to a marble slab which is lighter than those around it and, curiously, is set sideways (the work of the masons in accordance with the wishes of the glassmakers?). As it advances along the slab, the ray of sunlight reaches a point where there is a small metal tenon… Why?
I looked admiringly at my brother.
“Very interesting, bravo Alex. There’s no doubt about it – Matteo’s photo shows the marble slab.”
“And why do you think he drew the floor plan of the cathedral over it?”
“Maybe he’d realised something. That’s what I’ll have to find out.”
*
We said goodbye to Alma with the promise that we would inform her of any developments. Suddenly, she seemed to be as involved as I was in that dangerous treasure hunt Matteo and Vladislav Hašek had initiated.
We had just emerged from the building onto the street when my phone rang. It was Oscar.
“Lorenzo, where are you?”
“In the centre, Via dell’Anticaglia. What’s happened?”
“Amato’s arrested Asar’s man.”
“Shit.”
“Let’s just hope the situation doesn’t get out of hand.”
“Where is he?”
“Here, in the police station. We’re questioning him.”
“Can I come?”
“You have to come.”
I hung up and looked at Alex. He narrowed his eyes in resignation.
“I get it. I’m going to be your chauffeur for the whole day.”
*
Once at the police station, we went to Oscar’s room. With him were Viola and Andrea. My brother looked relieved to see her.
“So?”
Oscar wore a doubtful expression.
“He didn’t put up any resistance, didn’t even try. The car drove around and then it just stopped not far from the City of Science. The driver remained in the car for at least half an hour. Amato waited, hoping that the man was meeting someone, but nobody arrived, so he must have let us follow him on purpose. Andrea and Viola didn’t have time to stop Amato. When they got there, he had already arrested him. In fact, to tell the truth the man turned himself in, docile as a lamb.”
“Has he said anything?”
“‘You have made a big mistake,’” said Viola, “Just that. Amato is still questioning him, but he’s not answering any of his questions.”
I shuddered, and I passed my hand over my face.
“My God…”
“Lorenzo,” said Oscar, after a moment of silence, “if you agree I would like to bring Àrtemis and Professor Ricciardi here. Now. It’s better if we’re all together. Call her, and I’ll send a squad car.”
I nodded, dazed and called Àrtemis while Oscar called the police switchboard. “Miranda, send me someone from the flying squad, immediately.”
Àrtemis was evidently in a lesson, and nothing in the world would convince her to answer the phone.
“No answer, Oscar…”
At that moment there was a knock at the door. In came a young blond policeman.
“Commissioner.”
“Ah Sinagra, wait a minute – you have to go to the Federico II to pick up two people,” said Oscar as he called Professor Ricciardi. “Professor, good morning, how are you? Good, good. Sorry to bother you again, but I’m going to have to ask you to come to police headquarters… I know, it’s a pain in the neck, but it’s for your protection. No, nothing’s happened, but I need you here urgently. Where are you at the moment? Ah, very good. I’m sending a car. It’ll be at the university in ten minutes, so please be waiting outside. Àrtemis Nicopolidis will be coming with you. Thanks so much.” He hung up. “Thank God Ricciardi was the university.”
“What are we going to do about Àrtemis?” I said in anguish.
“Go with Sinagra and get her from the classroom.”