It was only a short walk to the cathedral’s western portal and the Bernward doors. Though impressive in photographs, the sheer size of the doors, which stood at nearly sixteen feet tall, gave him pause. The artistry of these thousand year-old castings was breathtaking. Assuming the role of tourist, Bones took out a camera and started snapping pictures of Angel. She positioned herself to screen Dane and Jade who, in turn, moved in for a closer look at the Three Kings.
The panel was much larger than Dane had iMagined. He had figured the doors to be closer to an ordinary size, and thus scaled down the image in his mind.
“I don’t see any hares here,” Dane said.
“The clue mentions the lion. Give it a twist.” Jade whispered.
“Seriously?”
“These doors are probably thick enough to hide something inside. Maybe the knocker comes off, or releases a panel.” She looked around, clearly nervous. “Hurry while we’re alone.”
Dane took hold of the handle, feeling the cold bronze through his thin glove, and twisted.
Nothing.
He tried the other direction with no more success. He tried pushing and turning, pulling and turning, and anything else he could think of, but no dice.
“It’s just a solid piece,” he finally said, rocking back on his heels.
“You didn’t expect it to be easy, did you?” Bones pocketed his camera and joined them at the door. “Pretty cool, though. This alone was worth the drive, but let’s check out the inside.”
They were disappointed to learn the cathedral was closed for renovations, though Bones declared it “no freaking problem” to slip inside after hours, should they deem it necessary, eliciting a roll of the eyes and a pledge from Angel not to post his bail, should he be caught in the act.
A break-in proved unnecessary. Angel located a foreman who spoke English and apparently liked flirtatious women with dark skin and big brown eyes, because, five minutes later, they were inside.
Like the exterior, the interior had a feeling of newness about it, though tempered by the classic works of art all around. The construction foreman was eager to give them an impromptu tour, showing them the high points, including the “Christ Column,” a millennium-old, fifteen-foot tall cast bronze pillar that depicted scenes from the life of Jesus, and a bronze baptismal font that rivaled the pillar in its artistry.
By the time they reached the Epiphany Shrine at the east end of the cathedral, Dane was ready to give up. They had found no representations of the three hares, the Magi, or the Wise Virgins. The shrine was their last hope. The golden shrine was reminiscent of the shrine at Kölner Dom. Among the many images on its face was one of the Wise and Foolish Virgins. And, like the Shrine of the Magi, it was sealed in a thick glass case.
“It holds the relics of the patron saints,” the foreman explained. “It is very old.”
Dane and Bones exchanged glances. If they wanted to see what was inside, they would have to blast it open like the men had done back in Cologne. The idea did not sit well with him. Also, something told him this was not what they were looking for. The door to the temple had been guarded by only three wise virgins, while this shrine depicted all the characters of the parable, both wise and foolish. It didn’t look right. He thought back to their sole clue.
“As the lion roars for the king…”
He had taken “the king” to simply mean Jesus, the “King of Kings.” But if the allusion to the lion had been literal, why not the king as well? He turned to their guide, who was having trouble keeping his eyes off of Angel. She was playing along, though Dane knew her well enough to see she was growing bored with the charade.
“Are there any relics or treasures from any kings here?”
The foreman cocked his head, thinking. They all fell silent, and only the distant sounds of workmen going about their business interrupted the quiet. Finally, he nodded.
“In the museum is the Kopfreliquiar of Saint Oswald. He was King of Northumbria.”
“A cop what?” Bones asked.
“Kopfreliquiar.” The man cupped his chin, struggling for a translation. “This,” he indicated the shrine, “holds all the bones. A kopfreliquiar,” he held his hands in front of him about eight inches apart, “holds only the head.”
Jade beamed at Dane. A reliquary that held the skull of a king? That was more like it. They thanked the man, who had managed to wrangle a phone number from Angel, and left the cathedral.
“Real or fake?” Bones asked his sister as they headed back out into the cold.
“Sort of fake.” Angel grimaced. “I gave him Crazy Charlie’s number.”
“That’s cold, sis. Dude was nice enough to let us in and show us around.”
“Nice? You didn’t notice his wedding ring?”
Dane and Bones looked surprised while Jade and Angel exchanged a “that’s a man for you” look.
“You two can find gold at the bottom of the ocean but you can’t find it on the hand of someone standing a foot from you.” Jade shook her head.
“Hey, just because I haven’t settled down doesn’t mean I’ve started checking to see which dudes are single,” Bones protested. “Besides, we need to find Ichabod Crane.” They had arrived at the museum, and he opened the door and ushered them in with a mocking bow.
“Ichabod Crane?” Jade frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The Headless Horseman. Am I the only educated one here?”
“Ichabod Crane was the…” Jade threw up her hands and stalked inside. Bones winked at Angel, who gave him a rueful look.
“You’re such a jerk,” she said, “but at least you’re pestering someone else for a change.”
They paid the modest entry fee and found themselves alone in the museum, save for a lone employee who reminded them that the museum would close in twenty minutes. They made a show of examining various displays, but quickly found themselves at the glass case that held Saint Oswald’s head reliquary. The circled it, scrutinizing the piece. The golden artifact was an odd-looking: an octagonal base with a domed cover, topped by a sculpture of Oswald’s crowned head. Writing ringed the bottom, with etchings in the panels.
Jade squeezed Dane’s hand and he could feel her excitement.
“Look at the crown,” she whispered. “Do you see it?”
Etched in a white stone on the front of the crown was the sign of the three hares!
“Okay.” Dane kept his voice level. “So how do we get to it?”
“Leave it to me,” Bones said. “You three spread out and don’t act so interested in this thing.” With that, he sauntered over to the museum docent and struck up a conversation. In typical Bones fashion, he soon had her laughing. The two of them soon headed out to the lobby, Bones returning a few minutes later with a slip of paper in his hand.
“You got a number too,” Angel said. “What’s your plan, charm her and talk her into bringing you back here later?”
“Nope.” Bones reached into his pocket, pulled out a key ring, and tossed it to Dane. His eyes scanned the room as he leaned in close. “Museum’s about to close,” he whispered. “Call us when you’re out.”
“You’d better take my backpack,” Jade added, slipping it off her shoulder and handing it to him. “Just in case you find something.”
Dane had to laugh at his friend’s resourcefulness. This just might work.
Careful not to be spotted, he slipped around the corner in the direction of the men’s room. The door was propped open and a sign with the international symbol for “don’t slip on this wet floor and fall on your butt” guarded the entrance. Good! He could hide inside without being found by the cleaning crew. He hurried inside, found an uncomfortable seat atop a toilet and waited for the lights to go out.