"He never proved it," said the elderly superior.

"Maybe he couldn't. But let me ask you-does either of you believe that the shroud now in the cathedral in Turin is authentic?"

"My dear girl," said Salvaing after a brief silence, "the shroud is a relic loved by millions of the faithful. Its authenticity has been questioned by scientists, and yet… I must admit I was very moved when I saw it in the Turin Cathedral. There is something supernatural in the cloth, whatever the carbon-fourteen verdict may be."

For another half hour, Ana earnestly pleaded her case with the two churchmen. Finally, they reluctantly agreed to let her proceed under the supervision of the archivist.

For the better part of the afternoon, they pored through the ancient records. At last, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, she found what she was looking for. In addition to Charny in Lirey, there had also been a family that spelled its name Charney, with an e, and the two families were related. The great Crusader, Geoffroy de Charney, had come home-Ana was sure of it.

Ana had returned to Troyes elated. But although she had established the presence of Geoffroy de Charney's family in Lirey, she had found precious little on the knight himself. She made an appointment to see the administrator of the de Charny properties, Capell, in the morning. After that she would see what she could find in the extensive municipal archives in Troyes.

Monsieur Capell turned out to be a serious man of few words, who very politely made it clear to Ana that he had no intention of giving her any information about his clients. He did, however, confirm that there were dozens of descendants of the de Charny line in France and that his clients were one of those families. She left his office disappointed.

The young man in charge of the town archives in Troyes had piercings in his nose and three studs in each ear. He introduced himself as Jean and confessed he was bored spitless by his job but that all things considered, he'd been lucky to find work at all, since his degree was in library science.

Ana explained what she was looking for and Jean offered to help her.

"So you think that this precept of the Temple in Normandy was an ancestor of our Geoffroy de Charny despite the name difference?"

"I told you-there are traces of both versions of the name in the parish church outside Lirey. Now I'm trying to find more specifics and also more information on Geoffroy de Charney himself-his immediate family and his movements before he burned at the stake with the other Templars in 1314."

"Well, this isn't going to be easy. I can tell you right now that we're not going to have much, if anything, on the activities of a Templar knight. But if you'll give me a hand we'll see what we can find."

First they looked in the computerized archives, then began looking through the old files that hadn't been digitized. Ana was pleasantly surprised at Jean's intelligence and facility with the records. Besides being a librarian he had a degree in French philosophy, so medieval France was familiar territory for him.

They worked steadily and managed to unearth all the available local civil records on the de Charny family tree, but both of them knew the information was incomplete. They still knew nothing of the actual lives of these people who so often married to forge alliances with other noble families and whose traces, and offspring's traces, were almost impossible to follow.

"I think you ought to find a historian with more experience in genealogy," Jean finally told her over dinner that night.

They had become comfortable, even close, in the course of their work together, and Ana decided to trust the intense young man with the whole story, or at least most of it. She'd known him only briefly, yet they had made one of those rare instant connections that had them feeling they'd been friends for years. Jean was thoughtful, intelligent, and sensible. Behind his half-Gothic facade was a solid man, a man of integrity.

She told him almost everything she knew, not mentioning the Art Crimes Department or her brother, Santiago, and waited for his opinion.

"Maybe the two Geoffroys were related, Ana," Jean began. "I'll grant you that. But we're attributing possession of the shroud to the first one with no proof whatsoever. There's just no basis for it. If the shroud had been authentic, it would have been in the hands of the Temple. Remember that the knights made a vow of poverty and had no possessions. So it would be almost unthinkable that a Templar would have such an object in his hands or bequeath it to his family.

"Your theory is interesting, but it's a real stretch, and you know it," he continued. "You have to be rigorous when you write about this. Otherwise, people will take it as just another fanciful story about the shroud, and you know how many of those there are."

Ana began to protest, but he held up his hand and went on. "For a book of esotericism it wouldn't be bad.

But the truth is, Ana, all you're talking to me about is 'hunches' and 'intuitions' and 'feelings.' What you're telling me, well told, could be an interesting story for a magazine, but nothing you've told me is based on real proof-it's all just obscure family connections. I'm sorry, really, but if I found a story like this in a newspaper, I wouldn't believe it. I'd think it was yarn-spinning by one of those people who write about UFOs and see the image of the Virgin Mary in pepperoni pizzas."

Ana couldn't hide her disappointment, although deep inside she knew Jean was right. Nevertheless, she raised her chin and responded in a tone as serious as his own.

"I'm not going to give up, Jean. If it turns out I don't find solid proof, I won't publish a word-that's the promise I made at the beginning and I'm making again right now. That way I won't disappoint people like you who've helped me. But I'm going to continue to track this story down if it kills me. I haven't told you, but I know a modern-day de Charny right now, a gallant 'knight' of sorts if I've ever seen one."

"Who is he?"

'A very handsome, very interesting, very mysterious man, who just so happens to have visited the old family home in the past few years. I'm going to Paris; it'll be easier for me to get in touch with his family there, if it is his family."

Jean put his hand over hers on the table. "I'd go with you if I could, Ana, but I know there's not a chance they'd give me the vacation time right now. But the second best thing is, I have a friend in Paris who might be able to help. He's originally from here, Troyes. were at the university together. He moved to Paris and got his doctorate in history at the Sorbonne. He's even taught there some. But he fell in love with a Scottish reporter, and in less than three years he turned around and got another degree, in journalism, and now they have a magazine: Enigmas. It's not my kind of thing- they publish speculative stuff on history, unsolved mysteries, you know. And they have genealogists, historians, scientists who write for them. We haven't seen each other in years, practically since he got married. His wife had some kind of accident and they haven't been back here. But he's a good friend of mine, and he'll talk to you. I'll call him."

He blushed as Ana leaned across the table to kiss him on the cheek. "Jean, you've been wonderful. Thank you," she said. 'After Paris I think I'll head back to Turin, depending on what else I find. I'll call you and keep you posted. You know, you're the only person I've been able to talk to honestly about this, and I'll count on your good common sense to keep a rein on my wild fantasies."