The Manuscript I the Secret by Blanca Miosi, Gretchen Abernathy Read Free Book Online

the chest to its place, so we brought it with us, despite my reservations. And ever since then, Claudio was never the same. A kind of madness took hold of him.”
    “What do you mean?” I asked, curious.
    “When I translated part of the documents, which were in Latin, we learned that they were detailed notes about genetic research. And your father, Claudio, or your uncle, however you want to call him, became obsessed with finding their author. He truly believed he could find a way to extend life and stay young. That was over twenty-five years ago.”
    Brother Martucci watched me again for a reaction. And, again, I felt myself being examined. From the moment I had crossed paths with Martucci since my return to Rome, I had known I was the object of study to a degree usually reserved only for the rarest of species. His strange gaze made it clear that he did not care how obvious he was in his observations, and that annoyed me. It bothered me that a stranger wanted to know my innermost feelings. Yet I had to admit he had gotten my attention, despite how confusing it all was.
    “But now my uncle lies in his tomb, and there’s no cure for death.”
    “You don’t understand. Your father rests in peace thanks to you.”
    Nothing was making sense. I gave him the kind of condescending smile reserved for the mentally infirm and headed for the exit. I sensed him following behind, and I turned to invite him to walk beside me. But Francesco Martucci grabbed hold of my wrist with disarming strength.
    “You must listen to me! This is not a joke, and I am not mad!” He hissed fiercely. “A very important part of the documents are missing, and if you are smart enough and worthy of the legacy of Claudio Contini-Massera, you will know how to find it. The rest of your life depends on it, do you understand me?”
    “No! I don’t understand a damn thing! I don’t want to hear any more about this ridiculous nonsense. Forgive me, Abbot Martucci, but this whole time you’ve just been throwing out meaningless arguments. You bring me here to give me a note from my uncle, or maybe my father, that doesn’t say hardly anything except that I’m supposed to trust you. And I can’t do that until you explain exactly what all this is about. Stop saying cryptic things like ‘Your father rests in peace thanks to you,’ and just tell me what the hell is going on. A good place to start is why you’re worried about my safety.”

Nicholas Blohm
    Manhattan, New York
    November 10, 1999
     
    To his dismay, Nicholas had to stop reading. Dusk was creeping over the cemetery. He took the precaution of folding the manuscript back instead of shutting it, turning the part he had just read into the cover. He headed back home annoyed at Linda’s impending arrival. She could not have chosen a worse time to come. He keenly wanted to keep reading the manuscript, to finish before the words disappeared and were replaced by a different story. Tomorrow he would photocopy it. Why had he not thought of that earlier?
    A little more light-hearted with this prospect, he bounced up the three flights of stairs to his apartment and noticed a light coming from under the door. Linda must have arrived. He despised her punctuality as never before.
    “Hello, sweetie!” Linda gushed, puckering her lips. “Thank God I still had my key!”
    “Hi.... How was your trip?”
    “Oh, is that what you’ve been writing?” she pointed to the bundle under Nicholas’ arm.
    “This? Uh, yeah.”
    “Can I read it?”
    “No! I mean, not yet. I need to make some corrections. It’s not finished.” Nicholas’ nerves were getting the best of him.
    “Ok, fine, you don’t have to yell about it. I just wanted to know what it was about.”
    Linda sat on one of the two chairs in the small living room and crossed her legs. She was barefoot and wore cut-off shorts. Her snug-fitting t-shirt stopped just short of her waist, showing off the flat line of her midriff. At any other time Nicholas