“Why do you need our labs? Yours are the best in the world.”
“I don’t have time to send it to Israel.”
“What sort of tests are we talking about?”
“Analysis of the paper and ink. I’d also like you to establish the age.”
“It’s old, this document?”
“Several centuries,” said Gabriel.
“You’re sure it’s paper and not vellum?”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I have a staff meeting at the palazzo at half past ten.” The palazzo was the Art Squad’s elegant cream-colored headquarters in the Piazza di Sant’Ignazio. “If, however, you were to wander into the back room of Caffè Greco at nine fifteen, you might find me enjoying a cappuccino and a cornetto. And by the way,” he said before ringing off, “I have something to show you as well.”
Gabriel arrived a few minutes early. General Ferrari had the back room to himself. From his old leather briefcase he removed a manila folder, and from the folder eight large photographs, which he arrayed on the table. The last depicted Gabriel removing the wallet from Niklaus Janson’s pocket.
“Since when does the commander of the Art Squad get to see surveillance photos from a murder investigation?”
“The chief of the Polizia wanted you to have a look at them. He was hoping you might be able to identify the assassin.”
The general laid another photograph on the table. A man in a motorcycle helmet and leather jacket, right arm extended, a gun in his hand. A woman nearby had noticed the weapon and had opened her mouth to scream. Gabriel only wished he had seen it, too. Niklaus Janson might still be alive.
Gabriel examined the gunman’s clothing. “I don’t suppose you have one without the helmet.”
“I’m afraid not.” Ferrari returned the photographs to the manila folder. “Perhaps you should show me this document of yours.”
It was locked inside a stainless-steel attaché case. Gabriel removed it and handed it wordlessly across the table. The general scrutinized it through the protective plastic cover.
“The Gospel of Pilate?” He looked up at Gabriel. “Where did you get this?”
“The Vatican Secret Archives.”
“Theygaveit to you?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Luigi and I broke into the Archives and took it.”
General Ferrari looked down at the document again. “I assume this has something to do with the Holy Father’s death.”
“Murder,” said Gabriel quietly.
General Ferrari’s expression remained unchanged.
“You don’t seem terribly surprised by the news, Cesare.”
“I assumed that Archbishop Donati was suspicious about thecircumstances of the Holy Father’s death when he asked me to make contact with you in Venice.”
“Did he mention a missing Swiss Guard?”
“He might have. And a missing letter, too.” The general held the page aloft. “Is this the document Lucchesi wanted you to see?”
Gabriel nodded.
