‘Sit down, Allegra, he said, offering her the old ‘Captain’s Chair’ that leaned lopsidedly in front of the academic chaos on his desk.
‘So, how do you think your doctoral thesis might have been received by the Board?’ Rosselli was frowning now.
Allegra felt a small twinge of doubt. ‘I gave it my best shot, Antonio,’ she said.
‘Hmm,’ he responded with uncharacteristic haughtiness, and Allegra’s doubts gained ground.
Professor Rosselli rummaged in what passed for an in-tray, retrieving a letter from the pile, his quizzical look more evident now. ‘In your case the Board have reached an interesting conclusion, Dr Bassetti.’
Allegra braced herself for bad news.
‘You seem nervous?’
‘I am a bit.’
‘Not happy with the title?’
‘Of my thesis?’ she asked, puzzled now.
‘Doctor?’
Allegra looked at him uncomprehendingly and then realised what he’d called her. Her hand went to her mouth.
‘Oh. You mean I’ve been accepted?’
‘If you have a fault that needs correction, young lady,’ Professor Rosselli said, his frown replaced by a broad smile, his old eyes dancing with delight at the success of his subterfuge, ‘it is that you underestimate your abilities. You are confident enough on the outside, but I would like to see more from within.’ Professor Rosselli glanced at the letter.
‘The Board was unanimous. We thought it was one of the most outstanding doctoral theses on DNA that we have seen for a very long time. The Vatican will turn itself inside out to discredit your work, but we particularly liked your linkages to carbon dating and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Your theory that some of these scrolls date from around the time of Christ will no doubt stir up a hornet’s nest. My congratulations. An amazing piece of work, Dr Bassetti. I think the title suits you.’
‘I’ll try and get used to it,’ Allegra replied, her feelings a mixture of relief and exhilaration.
‘We intend to publish it widely, if that’s all right with you.’
‘I would take it as a compliment, Antonio.’
‘Good, because I am under some pressure from church groups to justify my views on the usefulness of scientific techniques in dating archaeological artefacts such as the Dead Sea Scrolls. I would like you to give a lecture on carbon dating, primarily for our students, but one that will also be open to the public. We’ve already put out some feelers and a lot of people want to come, including one group from the Buffett Evangelical Centre for Christ. As you might gather, they’re fundamentalist Christian and they want equal time to present proof from the Bible that the Earth is only a few thousand years old and that carbon dating is fatally flawed.’
Allegra rolled her eyes.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to let a scientific discussion be taken over by a bunch of fruit loops. I’ve given them a polite no to equal time, although of course they’re entitled to their wacky views and I’ve told them they are welcome to come.’
‘And are they?’ Allegra asked, suddenly concerned that she was being dragged back into a world of dogma from which she had long freed herself.
‘Welcome? On a par with your mother-in-law announcing she’s coming to live with you. Will they come? On a par with the sun rising tomorrow. They’re talking about sending one or two of their heavies over from their Atlanta headquarters, but you needn’t worry. I’ll be there to chair so they won’t be able to hijack question time.’
Allegra breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t be giving this lecture, Antonio?’
The old maestro could have given the lecture with practised ease but he knew that the beautiful young woman on his staff possessed a very fine mind, and he was determined she should be given the opportunity to stretch her wings. Outside the University of Milano Dr Allegra Bassetti was still unknown but Rosselli knew that would change.
‘I could,’ he said, ‘but I won’t be here for ever. Sooner or later someone has to be around to take the place of old badgers like me. Besides, you’re just as qualified and a little easier on the eye. They can put up with me for the other half of the lecture, one which I have named “The lost civilisation of the Essenes, DNA and the Omega Scroll”.’
Allegra felt a chill. The Omega Scroll. The speculation had died down long ago and other than a passing reference Professor Rosselli hadn’t brought it up. Why now, she wondered.
‘Do you think that’s wise, Antonio. The Omega Scroll seems to be the Essene’s version of the curse of the Pharaohs.’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I’m convinced Professor Fiorini was murdered, but I’m equally convinced that was because he was about to link the Vatican to the Omega Scroll.’
‘You spoke to him before he disappeared?’
‘Only a brief phone call. He didn’t want to say too much over the phone but he told me he had some exciting news about the Omega Scroll. He disappeared before we could talk.’
‘Why are you including it in your lecture?’
‘Firstly, I’m not going to mention the Vatican and secondly, my friend Professor Kaufmann, who I would like you to meet one day, has unearthed some interesting links between DNA and the Essenes. Don’t worry, I doubt the Vatican will show the slightest interest.’
Cardinal Lorenzo Petroni saw the last but one of his dinner guests to the door. The Minister for Finance, the editor of the influential Milano Finanza and Milano’s Il Capo di Guardia di Finanza. The guest list for dinner had also included three merchant bankers and the CEO of Cologne Constructions, one of Europe’s largest property developers. Petroni’s remaining guest, Giorgio Felici, was enjoying a Remy Martin Louis XIII Cognac by the fire in the Cardinal’s study.
‘ Allora, I think that went fairly well, Giorgio?’ Petroni said on his return.
‘Some useful contacts, Lorenzo, for when you become Cardinal Secretary of State, non e vero?’
Lorenzo Petroni eyed the little Sicilian without expression. Giorgio Felici had his uses, and when Petroni had last been at the helm of the Vatican Bank he had persuaded the Holy Father that he should appoint Giorgio Felici as his financial adviser. The Pope had agreed and the Vatican award of ‘Gentleman of His Holiness’ had been promptly bestowed on the merchant banker from Milano. In the years that he’d been out of the Vatican as Cardinal Archbishop of Milano, Petroni had come to regret the arrangement intensely. The Vatican Bank holdings had become so large that Felici had acquired direct access to the Papal Apartments. Petroni had been trying to find a way to restore his own control and have Felici report through him, and now, he reflected with more than a little satisfaction, that could be done. The previous day, His Holiness had announced that Cardinal Lorenzo Petroni would take over as the Vatican’s Cardinal Secretary of State. Petroni had received the news calmly. It was, he thought, part of the natural progression and he was finally within striking distance of his ultimate goal. The Pope, Petroni had noted, kept a gruelling schedule and his health seemed unusually robust, but time would tell.
‘When do you plan to take up your appointment?’ Giorgio asked.
‘I leave for Rome next Tuesday.’
‘Perhaps it is not a moment too soon, Lorenzo.’
‘Oh?’ Petroni replied off-handedly, but he was instantly alert.
‘The new Director of the Bank, Monsignor Pasquale Garibaldi, will need to be replaced.’
Petroni’s expression gave nothing away. When Garibaldi had been first mooted as a candidate he had tried to have his appointment stopped. Garibaldi had a reputation for scrupulous honesty and transparency.
‘Monsignor Garibaldi has confided in me that he has found some irregularities in the accounts. It seems he may have twigged to our double invoicing scheme,’ Giorgio Felici said quietly.