Page 91 of The Medici Return

“That cannot be possible. The lay brothers there would never allow that.”

“I assure you, I would not have made contact with you if this were not the case. And it is not your lay brothers. Just one lay brother who is allowing the intrusion to Signora Camilla Baines. I believe you know who she is.”

The prior hesitated a moment, then walked back to the car on the driver’s side. The window lowered and there was a short conversation. A few more moments passed, then he returned to them.

“Forgive me, Eminence, but I am having that information verified. I am also wondering why you did not tell me this earlier, when you called.”

“I prefer face-to-face,” Ascolani said. “And frankly, so we are clear, I do not have to explain myself.”

“And so we are clear, I am not subject to your authority or control.”

“Really? Then you do not fully understand the extent of my reach. Your superior, the order’s prior-general in France, and I are quite close. I may not be able to order you about, but he can. Should we call him?”

“Do whatever you want. You will anyway.”

“I came here to help, not hinder.”

“And what is your interest in this?”

“That is Entity business.”

The door to the other car opened and the driver called out, “No one answers.”

“Keep trying,” the prior said.

Stefan knew that, like all monastic orders, the Carthusians strove for ascesis, work, poverty, chastity, obedience, prayer, and humility. But they also fiercely protected their solitude through limiting visitors and carrying out no outside apostolate work. No radio or television. The monks spent most of their time in theirindividual cells. Which was a misnomer. More like a little house. Two stories with a workshop and garden. Quite nice, actually. They could not leave their cells without permission, except on occasions expressly stipulated by the order’s rule. Only the prior received news and made known to the monks what they ought to know. Carthusians withdrew from the worldto worship God, to praise Him, to contemplate Him, to be conquered by Him, and to give themselves to Him in the name of all.

The internal hierarchy was simple. There were both fathers and lay brothers. Fathers were all priests or destined to be priests. The lay brothers were not, but they still bound themselves to the order, responsible for the smooth running of the charterhouses, performing all of the essential chores.

“Are there no fathers at Santa Maria?” Ascolani asked.

“All lay brothers, which might explain the situation. The lay brothers are not as disciplined. Signora Baines provides us with land and valuable services. She has always been respectful of our ways. I suggest we head there. Immediately.”

“I could not agree more,” Ascolani said.

The prior turned and headed back to his car, where he climbed inside. Engines revved in the two vehicles, but neither moved. Though the older man had made clear that he was not going to be ordered about, he also had not seemed eager to make an enemy of Ascolani. Especially considering that he’d been alerted to a heretofore unknown danger. Ingratitude would only compound the situation.

Ascolani motioned and they returned to their own car. Stefano cranked the engine and they drove off, leading the three-car procession.

“Eminence,” Stefano said. “Why did you not just call the Carthusian charterhouse and tell the prior the situation? Allow them to handle it. Why was it necessary we come here?”

“Because, Father Giumenta, we need to give our intruders time to locate what may or may not be there.”

He was beginning to understand. “The Carthusians would never allow you to look.”

“Correct. They would accept the information we provided, then shut us out, dealing with it internally. Camilla Baines has access, so why not use that reality. It will take us nearly an hour to get to Santa Maria. More than enough time for her, and her two accomplices, to have a thorough look.”

“And what happens if they find something and leave before we arrive?”

“Not to worry. I have that covered.”

CHAPTER 62

COTTON FOLLOWED THE WHITE-ROBED FIGURE INTO THE MONASTERY.

They came in through the church’s main doors, which were shut and, interestingly, not locked behind them by the lay brother. Richter dipped a finger into one of the stoups for holy water and crossed himself. The cardinal then genuflected toward the tabernacle at the far end, illuminated by a few dim night-lights. A bank of votive candles sat unlit off to the right.

Cotton spotted a stairway through an arch that disappeared downward. The nave before him was three-aisled and pillared with five bays. Thin and tall, classic Romanesque, with a touch of Gothic. No ornamentation. No statuary. Just plain stone and empty niches. The white-cowled brother did not say a word and kept walking down the aisle. Beneath his feet Cotton noticed that they were walking atop gravestones embedded into the floor. Surely brothers from long past. His senses were on high alert. He was deep in the unknown.

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