‘Excuse me?’
‘And you won’t believe where the victim came from. I swear to God you won’t.’
‘Where?’ he demanded.
She watched the parachute drop slowly from the sky. ‘Heaven.’
62
Austrian Expressway,
Swiss/Austrian Border
Border crossings could be tricky, especially if the guards had your photo and were promised a large bonus if they spotted your ass. Therefore, Payne felt it would be best if Ulster and Franz dropped everyone off about a mile from the border, allowing them to hike into Austria on their own. Payne figured the sky was dark, the trees were thick, and he and Jones had the survival skills to help Maria and Boyd avoid detection. But Ulster laughed at the suggestion. He promised he knew everyone at the border and said they wouldn’t search his truck due to a prior agreement.
And Ulster was right. Ten minutes later they were on the open road to the capital city of the Republik Österreich. Vienna (or Wien) is located in the northeastern corner of Austria and has over two million citizens. Known for its contribution to classical music (Mozart, Beethoven, and Brahms) and psychotherapy (Sigmund Freud), the city’s most amazing spectacle is the Hofburg, a sprawling hodgepodge of a palace that covers 2.7 million square feet and holds over a million pieces of art. The Hofburg became the official royal residence in 1533 when Ferdinand I of the Hapsburg dynasty moved into the imperial apartments. Since then, the Hofburg has housed five centuries of dignitaries including the rulers of the Holy Roman Empire (1533-1806), the Emperors of Austria (1806-1918), and the current Austrian federal president.
The most interesting aspect of the building wasn’t a list of its former residents but rather what they did to the place while they were there. From 1278 until 1913, every monarch contributed his own addition in the prevailing taste of the day. The resulting mix was a time capsule of interior design, spread throughout eighteen wings and nineteen courtyards in a wild assortment of styles that included Baroque, French and Italian Renaissance, Gothic, and nineteenth-century German.
Yet the only decoration that mattered to them was the laughing man statue that Payne spotted in Ulster’s picture. A statue that was inside the front gates of the Austrian White House. Somehow they needed to find a way to examine the piece without being shot or arrested.
While running scenarios in his head, Payne gazed across the cargo hold and listened to Boyd and Maria discussing the significance of the statue. The rumble of the truck’s engine drowned out half their words, but their passion for the topic made up for the missing syllables. Boyd argued that the laughing man’s presence in Vienna was proof that the Romans succeeded in their plot to fake the crucifixion. Why else would he be honored in such an important building?
But Maria wasn’t as confident. She reminded Boyd that she saw the laughing man on the roof of Il Duomo in Milan, even though no one knew who he was or why he was there. Furthermore, since that statue was made out of Viennese marble, she argued it was probably the work of a local artisan. That meant the Hofburg piece might be nothing more than a replica of the Milanese design. Or vice versa.
Jones was sitting next to Payne, researching the Hofburg in a travel guide that he found in a box. He said, ‘Ever hear of the Vienna Boys’ Choir? They sing Mass at the Hofburg every Sunday. If we wait until then, we could sneak in with the rest of the churchgoers.’
The mention of a weekly Mass in a government building intrigued Payne. Not only because it was a security hiccup that could be exploited but because it highlighted an interesting difference between Austria and the United States. By hosting a Catholic service in the Hofburg, the Austrian government was openly endorsing Catholicism as its official religion.
Payne asked, ‘Haven’t they heard of the separation of church and state?’
Jones pointed to the guidebook. Inside it referred to the relationship between Austria and the Roman Catholic Church as the throne and the altar, two entities that worked hand in hand for the betterment of Catholicism. ‘It says the Vatican has an agreement that guarantees financial support from the Austrian government. Citizens can follow any religion they want. However, one percent of their income goes straight to the Roman Catholic Church.’
‘Really? I’ve never heard anything like that.’
‘Me, neither. Then again, I guess their union makes some sense. Their connection with Rome goes back two thousand years when Vienna was a Roman military post. In fact, you’ll never believe who one of the founding fathers of Vienna was. None other than Tiberius himself. It seems he was the leader of a Roman garrison that occupied the foothills of the Alps. While there, he grasped the importance of the region and ordered his men to take over the Celtic city of Vindobona. Once they did, it became a military stronghold for the next five hundred years.’
Until that moment Payne wasn’t sure if the laughing man statue was worth a ten-hour drive. He figured they might find a clue or two but wasn’t convinced it was worth their exposure time – especially since the Hofburg was a federal facility. Too many things could go wrong, he told them. Too many well-trained guards would be nearby. Yet Boyd and Maria persisted, practically demanding that they go to Vienna.
This latest bit of information helped Payne understand why.
Strangely, the link between Tiberius and the laughing man was irrefutable, yet for some reason their partnership had never been acknowledged in history books. That meant some group went out of its way to hide the alliance between these men. And the instant their secret was threatened, they panicked, sending in a hit squad to take out Boyd and Maria at the Catacombs, then blowing up a bus to silence anyone who might’ve overheard them talking.
But why? And more importantly, who? No one would go through that much trouble unless there was a modern-day consequence to the secret. And if so, then this had to be about Christ and the people who believed in him. There was no other explanation for such desperate behavior.
Payne whispered, ‘What’s your take on the Catholic Church? I mean, do you think they could be behind this?’
‘That’s a difficult question. Most people like to view their church as infallible. But any time you throw humans into the mix, anything is possible.’
Jones pondered his next statement for several seconds. ‘Are you familiar with Pope John VIII? Legend has it that he was an English scribe who signed up for work as a papal notary. Years later, after dedicating his entire life to the Church, he was named pope. Great story, right? Unfortunately, there’s a tragic ending. Shortly into his reign he was overcome by excruciating pain in the middle of a public processional. Before anything could be done to help, the pope died right there on a Roman street in plain sight of everybody… Any idea how he died?’
‘Let me guess. He was poisoned by a priest.’
‘Nope. He died giving birth. You see, it turns out John VIII was actually a pregnant woman.’
‘A woman?’
‘Amazing, isn’t it? The head of the Roman Catholic Church lied to everyone for several years in order to get what she wanted out of life. Her vows didn’t matter. Catholic law didn’t matter. The only thing she cared about was becoming Pope Joan.’
‘Pope Joan? That was her name?’
‘Not her actual name. That’s what fourteenth-century academics named her.’
The legend of Pope Joan goes beyond Christian history. Medieval tarot cards used to honor her with the papess card (la papessa in Italian) before the Catholic Church applied enough pressure to have the card changed to the priestess card, hoping to minimize the scandal.
‘And she isn’t the only one who has broken church laws. From what I’ve read, popes have fathered several hundred kids over the years. Plus many popes obtained the papal throne through illegal means to begin with: bribery, blackmail, extortion. And even worse, many of them committed crimes while they were the pope, everything from theft to assault to murder.’
Payne grew silent as he thought about Jones’s words. Finally, he said, ‘If you worked for the Vatican and you heard rumors about an ancient scroll that threatened everything that you’d dedicated your life to, what would you do to stop it?’
‘Not to be rude, but I think you just asked a flawed question. In my mind a more appropriate question would be: What wouldn’t I do?’
Their truck stopped a quarter mile from the palace. Payne made his way to the driver’s window, anxious to talk to Ulster and Franz about the Hofburg. He knew both of them had been there. What he didn’t know was how knowledgeable they were about the security and the layout of the grounds. He asked, ‘How many times have you been inside the palace?’
Franz answered. ‘That is tough one. I lose count after all the years. Maybe thousand times?’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Ja! Didn’t Petr tell you? Scholars from Vienna have been coming to Archives for years, mostly because of Petr’s grandfather. The Hofburg is a national museum, several large museums all tied together. Their curators have brought many items to the Archives for us to study. Often they were too large or valuable to be moved without help. That is why we have the trucks.’
‘I guess that means you know the security guards, too?’
Franz smiled. ‘Ja, ja! I know them all by name.’
Suddenly, getting inside the Hofburg wouldn’t be as tough as Payne had thought.
Jones stayed in the truck with Ulster and Franz while Payne led the way across the Volksgarten, a colorful stretch of land that decorated the area near the Parliament Building. Maria followed several steps behind, her hair tucked under a ball cap, her face hidden behind a pair of movie-star sunglasses that she had bought from a street vendor.
Further back was Dr Boyd, the person Payne was most concerned for since his picture was on the front page of every newspaper in town. Thankfully, he blended in perfectly with a Scottish tour group that happened to be walking in the same direction. His pale features and bald head were buried under a red sun hat. His nose was slathered in a thick layer of zinc oxide. He objected to it at first, claiming that he’d look like an old man. Payne assured him that was the point. Everyone in Europe was looking for a ruthless killer, not a pasty-faced geezer covered in lotion.
It took several minutes to snake their way to the front edge of the Heldenplatz, the main courtyard in front of the Hofburg. Payne pretended to tie his shoe on the cobblestone sidewalk, allowing Boyd and Maria to catch up. Then, as a group, they crossed in front of a row of Fiakers, horse-drawn carriages that have been used in the Inner City for over three hundred years.
Boyd asked, ‘How are we to do this? May I walk over and examine the statue?’
Payne answered, ‘I don’t see why not… But when the truck arrives, we leave at once.’ He pointed to an equestrian statue near the Outer Gate. ‘I’m gonna hang back there and keep on an eye on you. While I do, please do me a favor and find out why that bastard is laughing.’
The laughing man statue was identical to the one in Milan. The weathering of the marble was different due to Austria’s harsher climate, yet there was no doubt in Maria’s mind that the two were made by the same artist, a fact that confused Boyd. Why would an artist waste his time and chisel two identical statues? Why not vary the positioning of the subject or the look on his face? And why was the laughing man grinning so broadly in every piece of art?