"Who's Padre Charny?" Ana asked.

"You just had dinner with him. The dashing Padre Yves de Charny," Sofia answered.

"Don't be such a snoop, Ana," Marco added.

"It's my nature," the reporter replied with a smile, then winced and pressed her hand to her head.

Marco clearly wasn't interested in lingering. 'All right, let's get going-everybody knows what they're supposed to be doing. Giuseppe, you-"

"Yeah, I'm on it. I'll call you."

"Let's go, Sofia. If we hurry we can still get there on time. Ana, have a nice day."

"I'll try."

On the way to the cathedral Marco asked Sofia about Ana Jimenez.

"What does she know?"

"I don't know. She seems like she's kind of floundering around, but I have a feeling she's got more than she lets on, and she's smart. She asks question after question after question, but she doesn't show her cards, you know? You'd think she didn't have anything, but I'm not so sure."

"She's young."

"But sharp."

"Good for her. I spoke to Europol-they're going to give us a hand. They'll start by securing the borders- airport, customs, train stations-at the right time. No one will get through without careful scrutiny. When we're finished with Bolard this morning, we'll go to carabinieri headquarters; I want you to see the plan that Giuseppe has been organizing. We won't have many men, but I hope there'll be enough. Not that it should be too hard to tail a guy who can't talk."

"How do you think he'll get in touch with his people when he gets out?"

"I don't know, but if he does in fact belong to some organization, he'll have a contact address, someplace to go to-he'll have to go somewhere. Trojan Horse will get us there, don't you worry. You'll stay at headquarters to coordinate the operation."

"Me? Oh no, I want to be out in the street."

"I have no idea what we're going to run into, and you're not a cop. I can't see you racing through the streets of Turin if he takes off."

"You don't know me-I can work a tail," Sofia protested, smiling as she lapsed into "cop talk."

"Somebody has to stay at headquarters, and you're the best person to anchor us there. We'll all stay in touch with you with walkie-talkies. John Barry has talked his colleagues at the CIA into lending us some micro-cameras and other equipment-unofficially-so we can photograph the mute and track him wherever he goes. You'll pick up the signal at headquarters-it'll be just like you're on the street. Giuseppe has made arrangements with the warden to get us the mute's shoes."

"You're going to put a tracking chip in them?" "Yes. Or try to. The problem is that all he has is tennis shoes, and it's hard to get a device in them, but the guys from the CIA will help us out with that."

"Did the court permission for the operation come through yet?"

"I should have it tomorrow at the latest." They arrived at the cathedral. Padre Yves was waiting for them, to take them to the large room in which Bolard and the committee of scientists were examining the shroud. He left Sofia and Marco with them and excused himself, saying he had work that wouldn't wait.

Balduino had dressed in his finest robes. De Molesmes had counseled that he alert no one to the visit he was about to make to the bishop. He had also personally chosen the soldiers who would accompany Balduino as well as those who would surround the Church of St. Mary of Blachernae.

The plan was simple. When night fell, the emperor would present himself at the bishop's palace. He would politely request that the bishop turn over the Mandylion; if the bishop did not do so willingly, then the soldiers would enter the Church of St. Mary of Blachernae and take the shroud by force, if need be.

De Molesmes had finally convinced Balduino not to be daunted by the bishop or his power. The giant Vlad, a man from the lands to the north, would also accompany the emperor. His mental faculties were not strong, and he would follow without hesitation any order he was given-qualities that would be useful if it became necessary to bring additional pressure on the churchman.

Darkness had covered the city, and the only sign of life in its houses and palaces was the yellowish light of oil lamps. A pounding was heard on the gate of the bishop's palace. The servant who hurried to open it stepped back in surprise when he found himself face-to-face with the emperor.

The bishop's guards rushed to the gate at the servant's shout. Seigneur de Molesmes ordered them to kneel before the emperor.

The imperial party strode purposefully into the palace despite Balduino's rising terror. The resoluteness of his chancellor was all that prevented him from fleeing in panic from the interview that was to come. The soldiers of the imperial guard took up positions around the lower floors as the emperor and the chancellor ascended the stairs with Vlad.

The bishop had been savoring a glass of Cypriot wine as he reviewed a secret letter that had arrived that day from Pope Innocent. He opened the door of his apartment, alarmed by the noise that reached him from the stairway, and was rendered speechless as Balduino, Pascal de Molesmes, and the giant confronted him.

"What is this! What are you doing here-" the bishop exclaimed.

"Is this the way you receive the emperor?" de Molesmes interrupted him.

"Calm yourself, Your Excellency," Balduino said. "I have come to visit you, as has long been my intention. I regret not having announced my arrival ahead of time, but matters of state prevented me."

Balduino's smile did not calm the bishop, who remained silent as he backed away from them.

"May we sit down?" the emperor asked.

The bishop finally found his voice. "Yes, of course, come in, come in," he stammered. "Your unexpected visit has surprised me, my lord. I will call my servants to bring us wine. I will have them light more lamps, and-"

"No," de Molesmes broke in again. "There is no need for you to do anything. The emperor honors you with his presence. Hear him." He turned to the servants now clustered anxiously in the hall and dismissed them with reassuring words. Ordering the soldiers to stand by outside the bishop's apartment, he then followed Balduino and the giant inside, closing the heavy doors behind him.

The emperor took a seat in a comfortable armchair and sighed heavily. Constantinople must be saved. Pascal de Molesmes had convinced him that he had no option but to proceed.

Now recovered from his initial alarm, and taking a seat himself, the bishop addressed the emperor in a tone that bordered perilously close to insolence:

"What matter is of such importance that you find it necessary to disturb the peace of this house at this hour? Is it your soul that needs succor, or are you concerned by some matter at court?"

"My good bishop, I have come as a child of the Church to seek your counsel with respect to the empire's problems. Generally, sir, you care for our souls, but those who have souls have bodies, too, and it is regarding earthly problems that I wish to speak to you, for if the kingdom suffers, men suffer."

Balduino looked toward Pascal de Molesmes for approval of his approach so far. De Molesmes, with a barely perceptible nod, signaled him to continue.

"You know the dire straits of Constantinople as well as I. One need not be privy to the secrets of the court to know that there is no money left in the treasury and that the constant incursions of our neighbors have weakened us terribly. It has been months since our soldiers were paid all they are owed, and that is true also of my courtiers and ambassadors. I am grieved not to be able to contribute to the Church, of which I am, as you know, a loyal and faithful son."

At this point, Balduino fell silent, fearing that at any moment the bishop would react in anger. But while the tension in the room was palpable, the bishop simply listened-clearly weighing how to respond.