“I’m being serious,” Stephanie complained stridently. Returning to her own bag, she picked up her hairbrush and brandished it. “Here’s something else! When we left on our outing, this brush was directly on top of my clothes, not lying in the suitcase’s gutter. I remember because I thought about taking it back into the bathroom. I’m telling you: Someone has been in my bag!”
“All right! All right!” Daniel soothed. “Take it easy!”
Stephanie reached into her bag’s side pocket and pulled out a zippered velvet pouch. She opened it and peered inside. “At least my jewelry is okay, including the little bit of cash that I keep in here. It’s a good thing I didn’t bring anything truly valuable.”
“Maybe housekeeping had to move the bags?” Daniel suggested.
“Give me a break!” Stephanie responded, as if Daniel’s suggestion was preposterous. Her eyes wandered around the room until they came to rest on the desk. “My room key is gone! I left it on the blotter.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t you remember we talked about it before we left, whether we needed two keys?”
“Vaguely.”
Stephanie strode into the bathroom. Daniel’s eyes roamed the room. He couldn’t decide if Stephanie’s paranoia was worth indulging, since he was aware she was still upset about the intruder in Cambridge. He knew that hotel people such as housekeeping, minibar stockers, room-service personnel, and bellmen were in and out of rooms all the time. Maybe one of them had poked their hands into her bag. For some people, it might be a huge temptation.
“Someone has also been in my cosmetics bag,” Stephanie called from the bathroom.
Daniel walked to the door and stood on the threshold. “Is anything missing?”
“No, nothing is missing!” Stephanie answered irritably.
“Hey, don’t get mad at me!”
Stephanie straightened up, shut her eyes, and took a deep breath. She nodded a few times. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, just frustrated you’re not as upset about this as I.”
“If we were missing something, it would be different.”
Stephanie closed the cover of her makeup bag. She stepped over to Daniel and put her arms around him. He enveloped her similarly.
“It upsets me when people paw through my belongings, especially after what happened the day before we left.”
“That’s entirely understandable,” Daniel said.
“It is curious nothing is missing, like the cash. That makes this episode exactly like the one in Cambridge, although having it happen here is more confusing. At least there we could postulate industrial espionage, even if it’s unlikely. What could someone be looking for here if not valuables and cash?”
“The only thing I can think of is the shroud sample.”
Stephanie leaned away from Daniel so she could see up into his face. “Why would someone be looking for that?”
“Beats me. It’s just the only thing we have that’s unique.”
“But presumably the only person who knows we have it is the man who gave it to us.” Stephanie’s brows were knitted together as if she was troubled anew.
“Calm down! I don’t think anyone was looking for the shroud sample. I was just thinking out loud. But as long as we are talking about it, where is it?”
“It’s still in my shoulder bag,” Stephanie said.
“Get it! Let’s have another look!” Daniel thought it best to steer the subject away from a possible intruder.
They retreated back to the middle of the room. Stephanie picked up her bag from where she’d tossed it on the bed. She took out the silver case and opened it. Daniel gingerly lifted out the glassine envelope and held it up to the diffused light coming from the windows. Backlit, the mat of linen fibers was distinct, although its color was still indeterminate. “My gosh!” Daniel said with a shake of his head. “It is truly amazing to think that there is even the slightest chance this contains the blood of arguably the most famous person to have trod this Earth, and that’s not even addressing the divine aspect.”
Stephanie put the silver case down on the desk and took the envelope. Stepping over to the window, she too held it up to the light. Shielding the slanting rays of the sun from her eyes with her free hand, she used the pale but direct white light to examine the envelope. Now even the fibers’ red ocher color could be appreciated. “It looks like blood,” she said. “You know, it must be my Catholic background mysteriously reasserting itself, because I have a strong intuition it is the blood of Jesus Christ.”
Although Father Michael Maloney could not see Stephanie D’Agostino, he was so close he could hear her breathe. He was terrified his own heartbeat pounding in his temples would give him away or, if not that, then the sound of drops of perspiration dripping from his face and falling to splatter against the floor. She was mere inches away.
In utter desperation when he’d heard the key thrust into the door, he’d dashed behind the drapes. It had been a reflex act. In retrospect, going behind the curtains was an embarrassment in and of itself, as if he were some common thief. He should have stood his ground, accepted his fate at being caught, and taken full responsibility for his actions. He understood the best defense was an offense, and in the present situation, to justify his actions he should have used his indignation about these people’s true identities and the upcoming unauthorized testing of the shroud that they were obviously planning.
Unfortunately, his fight-or-flight reaction had been overwhelming, particularly on the flight side, such that when he’d come to his senses he was already hiding, and once hiding, it was too late to play the indignation card. Now all he could do was hope and pray he’d not be discovered.
At first he thought all was lost with Stephanie’s exclamation the moment the door opened. He imagined that he’d either been seen or at the very least the curtain’s movement had been apparent. It had been a relief beyond words when he realized it had been the flower arrangement that had caught her attention.
Then he had to endure Stephanie’s discovery of his ineptness at searching her suitcase and the fact that he’d taken her key from the desk. That was when his pulse began to rise again after having slowed a degree from the initial shock. He feared she would start searching the room, which would mean he’d be immediately discovered. The embarrassment and consequences of such an event were too horrible to contemplate. What had begun as a way of ensuring his future career was now threatening to have the absolute opposite effect.
“What we think about the shroud is not important,” Daniel said. “It’s just what Butler thinks that matters.”
“I’m not sure I agree with you entirely,” Stephanie responded. “But that’s a discussion for another day.”
Michael stiffened as Stephanie brushed against the drapes. Thankfully, they were heavy Italian brocade, and she apparently did not notice that she had also touched Michael’s arm through the fabric. Another adrenaline rush coursed through Michael’s body, resulting in more perspiration. To him, the sound of the intermittent drops of sweat splattering against the floor were as loud as pebbles dropping on a drum. He never imagined he could perspire so profusely, especially when he wasn’t even all that hot.
“What should I do with the sample?” Stephanie asked, as she moved away.
“Give it to me,” Daniel replied from someplace in the room.
Michael allowed himself to take a deep breath, and he relaxed a degree. He had himself pressed up against the wall as flat as he could be, to minimize the bulge his body made in the drape. He heard more sounds he could not identify, along with what he guessed was the silver casing snapping shut.
“You know, we could change rooms,” Daniel said. “Or even hotels if you want.”
“What do you think we should do?”
“I think we should just stay put. There are multiple keys for every room in every hotel. Tonight when we sleep, we’ll be sure to use the dead bolt.”