the Source (2008) by Michael Cordy Read Free Book Online Page A

Kelly and frowned. By refusing to collaborate on the final section she had shown she was no friend of the Church. A sudden notion chilled him. What if she had already deciphered the finalsection and it not only explained Falcon's mysterious radix but was alsoa map? What if she planned to publish the complete translation andprove the existence of Falcon's garden by revealing its location?
    The implications for the Holy Mother Church - to which he owed everything - were unthinkable. Forget Galileo. Forget Darwin. If the garden existed, it could bestow supreme power on his beloved church. Or destroy it in an instant.
    He considered sharing his fears with the Holy Father, or the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, but both were unimaginative old men. They would laugh at his theory or not understand it - either way they would do nothing. Apart from their plans to found a second Vatican state in the southern hemisphere, they were taking no radical new steps to promote and protect the Church's waning influence in the world. He would need more evidence before he involved them. He had to find out what Lauren Kelly knew and her intentions.
    As he limped back to his desk his eyes focused on the photograph of himself as a child. He checked his watch. The time difference was in his favour. He rummaged through his papers until he found an anonymous card with a phone number on it. He hesitated for a moment, knowing he was about to cross a line, then reminded himself that these were desperate times and, to serve and protect God's Church, he must use whatever resources presented themselves. Indeed, the Lord Himself might have engineered this unorthodox opportunity. He picked up the phone beside his bed and dialled.
    A voice answered on the third ring. 'Yes?'
    He stared at the larger boy in the photograph. 'Marco,' he said.
    'Leo, thank God. I've been waiting--'
    Torino's eyes moved to the file on the bed. 'Is your treatment over?'
    'Yes.'
    'Do you still want absolution?'
    A sharp intake of breath. 'Yes.'
    'You're prepared to do any penance for the Church?'
    'Anything.'
    'Good.' Torino told himself again that this was the right course of action. 'I think it's time the left hand of the Devil became the right hand of God.'
    Chapter 8.

Six days later
    It was almost midnight when Ross turned the Mercedes into the driveway of their Darien home. The long weekend in Vermont had been Lauren's idea, consolation for postponing their holiday and celebration of her pregnancy and the Voynich. He had been looking forward more than he'd realized to getting away from everything so the long weekend now seemed a poor substitute for the planned three weeks in the Far East.
    As the car slowed, Lauren leant across to kiss his cheek. 'Thanks, Ross, I had a lovely time.'
    'So did I. It could have been longer, though.' He flashed a lopsided smile. 'Say, about three weeks.'
    She laughed. 'Stop trying to make me feel guilty. I know you're disappointed, but the insurance covered the cost. We haven't lost any money.'
    'You know it's not about the money,' he said. 'This was planned months ago, and we haven't had a real holiday together for years.'
    She raised an eyebrow. 'That's because you were always too busy with your work.'
    'Touche.' It was ironic that when he had time on his hands Lauren had a deadline to meet. 'But you've been working on the manuscript for more than seven years. What difference will three weeks make?'
    'All the difference between being the first to complete it and letting someone else get there ahead of me. I'm so close, but the last section isn't like the rest. It's more difficult.' As he parked she put her hand on his. 'I'll make a deal with you. I'll still be able to fly in two months and we'll take our holiday then, whether I've cracked the manuscript or not.'
    He smiled at her, thinking how much he loved her. 'Sure. But by then I'll probably be up to my eyeballs in a new job.'
    'Fine by me.' She placed his hand