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In The Image Of His God - The curse of the Shroud

Dr. Peter J. Shield Phd. ARP

Ref. No. 804018hf
Length 46,218 words

Summary

More than twenty-three people have mysteriously died after coming in contact with one of Christendom’s most treasured relics!

In early 2005, John Peters arrives at St. Julian’s Bay, Malta. As a young archaeologist from Cambridge University, England, John had worked on the Maltese Catacombs in the early 50’s. A mysterious letter from an old friend asks for his help in finding a lost treasure secretly hidden on the Island by Pope John Paul II.

With the help of a beautiful young reporter, John sets about solving the mystery.

Enter the Illuminati and another unexplained Death!

From The Book

Preface:

Albino Luciani slipped into his satin robe and made his way across his bedroom to where a decanter of wine and a golden goblet had been placed neatly beside his favorite book, Miguel de Cervantes’s Don Quixote. Albino had read the book from cover to cover at least three times. It helped him relax from the stress and strain of his everyday chores.

He carefully poured himself a measured amount of wine and, taking his book, placed them both on his bedside table before kneeling in silent prayer. Half an hour later he arose, got into his four-poster bed, made himself comfortable and settled back against the array of feather pillows. He picked up his book, took a sip from the goblet and placed it carefully beside him. Thirty seconds later he was engulfed in excruciating pain. The book fell to the floor. The following morning the goblet, the book and the decanter of wine had vanished.

The date was 28 September 1978. Albino Luciani, Pope John Paul I, was dead, a mere thirty-three days after he assumed office. Nineteen days later, a plume of white smoke issued from the Vatican chimney symbolizing the election of a new pontiff.

If John Peters’s research had been correct, this would be yet another number added to the

list of unexplained deaths to have befallen those who had come in contact with

Christendom’s most sacred relic, the Holy Shroud of Turin.

Chapter 1 (Day 1: early afternoon)

John Peters was restless on the flight from Las Vegas to the Mediterranean island of Malta. He could not get Father Victor’s letter out of his mind. It had been over fifty years since John and Victor had last met face to face. Father Victor was now the curator at St. Agatha’s Catacombs and Museum. Like John, he was now in his seventies, and much had happened to them both over the ensuing years since they had started excavation on the site.

John had been a freelance photographer working for Associated Press when he was assigned to accompany Cambridge University’s archaeological team on the dig. At the time, he had been commissioned by the Maltese government to record all the art and other archaeological treasures that were stored in churches and archives across the Maltese Islands of Malta and Gozo. For nearly five years, John had worked alongside Victor, the novice priest assigned by the missionary order of St. Peter and St. Paul, whose monastery was located above St. Agatha’s Crypt and Catacombs. Victor and John had become close friends, a bond that had lasted over the years, supported by occasional communication and the usual birthday and holiday greetings.

After leaving Malta in 1960, John had returned to Cambridge to teach photography to archaeological students and, after a few years in Ireland, eventually ended up moving to Australia.

Australia had been good for John, and his background with the Archaeological Department at Cambridge University gave him the credentials to launch a career in broadcasting that would last some forty years. Initially, he produced a series of three-minute shorts for radio, which eventually evolved into a television series on mysteries from around the world, both archaeological and occult. In 1987 John was hosting a two-hour Saturday night program for radio station 2CH in Sydney, Australia. Among his guests, via telephone from around the globe, were members of a scientific team labeled the STURP group (Shroud of Turin Research Project), brought together by the US-based Brooks Institute to travel to Turin, Italy, and carry out a series of scientific tests on one of Christendom’s most venerated artifacts – the Shroud of Turin, the cloth in which Christ was said to have been wrapped following his crucifixion, before being laid to rest in the tomb, according to Jewish tradition, two days prior to his ascension.

The Shroud had always held a fascination for John because of the unique, inexplicable composition of the image. There had been no explanation for the fact that the image on the cloth appeared as if in a photograph negative. This startling discovery was made on 28 May 1898 when, following a public exhibition, Secondo Pia, an Italian amateur photographer, took the first photograph of the Shroud of Turin. Thus began a new era of scientific research.

When Secondo Pia was developing that first commissioned photograph of this most venerated object, he was stunned to witness the first and only recorded image of the face of Christ as it appeared in the tray of solution before him. What he had photographed was a negative that now appeared in the positive form in his developer tray. Since that date in 1898, the world had been fascinated with this remarkable image and the cloth that the Church only allowed to be exhibited once every twenty-five years. When it had been exhibited to the general public in 1978, millions stood in line for hours just for a glimpse of this miraculous cloth. Since then, the Shroud had been exhibited in 1998 to commemorate the 500th anniversary of the consecration of the Turin Cathedral, and in 2000. The next public exhibition was scheduled in the year 2025.

One by one, John interviewed and interrogated the individual members of the STURP group in a series of interviews over two successive nights. Their opinion was almost unanimous. All but one of the scientific investigative team was convinced that the cloth was all that the Church and historians claimed it to be – the actual burial cloth of Christ…………………………………..

Father Victor, it appeared, had a personal connection with the Shroud, and probably held the answer to what had puzzled the world of Shroud followers and believers since1988, when the cloth had been subjected to carbon dating. The result had conclusively shown the material to have a carbon date of between 1200 and 1500 A.D., ruling out any possibility that it had once held the body of the Savior.

How, John – and millions of believers – wondered, could a group of esteemed scientists have got it so wrong?

The answer to this and the composition of the miraculous image on the cloth were alluded to by Father Victor in his letter to John, which arrived the day before he was to visit Malta to address the members of the recently formed Shroud Society. The group had learned that in the year 1204 A.D., French knights of the Crusader Order of Knights Templar, known as ‘the Poor Knights of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon’, brought it to France; on the way they must have stopped at Malta to take fresh water and food. The Shroud Society planned to hold their annual convention at each of the locations that the Shroud was reported to have visited. Malta was chosen as the first of these. As the keynote speaker at their inaugural convocation, John had been asked to present his lecture on the interview recordings.

As he settled into his room at the Radisson SAS Hotel at St. Julian’s Bay, he wondered what his friend of fifty years, closeted within St. Agatha’s, had unearthed that could be of such significant value to his personal investigative studies. Exhausted as he was after his long flight, John found his brain whirling with the facts he was so familiar with. He mentally ticked them off.

At a press conference held in Turin on 13 October 1988, Cardinal Ballestrero, Archbishop of Turin, made an official announcement: the results of the three laboratories performing the carbon dating of the Shroud had determined an approximate date of 1325 A.D. for the cloth.

At a similar press conference held at the British Museum, London, it was announced that the cloth dated back to somewhere between 1260 and 1390 A.D. Newspaper headlines across the world immediately branded the Shroud a fake and, more importantly, declared that the Catholic Church had accepted the results. This was disputed when, on 28 April 1989, Pope John Paul II, being interviewed by journalists on a plane journey during the papal visit to Africa, guardedly spoke of the Shroud as an authentic relic, while insisting that the Church had never taken a formal stand in this regard.

On 30 September of that same year, one of the world’s most prestigious scientific publications, The New Scientist, reported the findings of the scientific workshop at East Kilbride: “… the margin of error with radiocarbon-dating ... may be two or three times as great as practitioners of the technique have claimed”.

Three independent universities had conducted the carbon dating process and all had come up with roughly the same conclusion – that the cloth was no older than 1200 A.D. Even allowing for the recognized margin of error, the cloth originated at the latest in the mid-1500s, at the earliest in the 900s.

In addition to this, according to a recent report that John had read in the scientific journal Thermochimica Acta, Raymond N. Rogers, a Fellow of the Los Alamos National Laboratory, claimed the sample tested in 1988 was from a medieval mend in the cloth.

John opened his briefcase and shuffled through his papers to locate the one he wanted. It was headed:

Studies on the radiocarbon sample from the shroud of Turin………………………..

Chapter 2 (Day 1: midafternoon)

John took out Father Victor’s letter and, for the umpteenth time, read the carefully worded document:

27 February 2005

Dear John,

It has been many years since we last communicated, and much water has passed under both our bridges. It was with great interest that I listened to your recorded interviews with the STURP group. You would of course not be aware, but several years ago fate brought the Shroud and I together under somewhat amazing circumstances. In 1990 I had the pleasure of meeting His Holiness Pope John Paul II and he had remarked on his admiration for the work I have been doing over these many years since your departure, on preserving the ancient treasures that abound here on this tiny island. He confided in me at that time that a plan had been put in place by the papal administration to protect the integrity of the sacred cloth and preserve forever this remarkable treasure. He asked for my assistance, which I had no hesitation in giving.

I have recently become worried that a member of my staff here has compromised this secret and urgently need your advice and guidance. I feel sure, in view of our long-standing friendship, that I can rely on your discretion and your advice.

Please call me as soon you get here, at the number mentioned above, and we can arrange a meeting. I have much to tell you.

May God bless you.

Sincerely

And the letter was signed simply Victor.

John reached for the phone and dialed the number Victor had given him.

“Minn hemm?”

John immediately recognized Father Victor’s voice. “It’s John Peters,” he answered. “How are you, Victor?”

There was relief in Victor’s voice as he recognized his old friend.

“I’m fine – good to hear your voice. I was hoping you’d call.”

Cutting through the usual preliminaries, John asked, “When would you like to meet, Victor?”

“As soon as possible.” Victor’s voice held an undercurrent of urgency.

“I’m free this evening if you wish,” John said. “If you prefer, we could meet here in my hotel room. That way, we won’t be overheard. I believe the matter you wish to discuss is confidential?” He was wary about even hinting at the subject matter that he knew Victor was anxious to discuss.

Victor was evidently relieved at John’s obvious caution.

“That would be great, John. Where are you staying?”

“The Radisson, room number 235. Would 7 o’clock be okay?”

“Thank you, John. That’ll be fine.”

John hung up and started to unpack, knowing sleep would elude him. It was 4 pm – he had plenty of time to shower and grab a bite. He couldn’t imagine what startling news Victor might bring, but he knew from the urgency in his old friend’s voice that the matter was both important and critical…………………………………………………..

Chapter 3 (Day 1: evening)

The discreet ringing startled John out of a light doze. He opened the door to his old friend.

For a few minutes time stood still as the two men embraced. Their birthdays were separated by only two days and they had often celebrated them together. Despite their closeness in age, there was a marked difference in the ravaging effects of time. Victor’s stooped shoulders and thinning hair showed every bit of his 74 years. His pale face looked haunted and, despite his thick glasses, it was clear that he had trouble seeing. John thought that the years underground in the labyrinth of catacombs and crypts had taken a heavy toll on Victor’s body. His heart went out to his dear friend.

“You look good, Victor,” John said as their warm embrace ended.

“I wish that were so, my friend – the years have not been kind to this tired old body. You, on the other hand, look just as you did fifty years ago!” The two men spontaneously burst into laughter. The brief tension was gone – they were just two friends reunited at last after many long years.

“I’ve ordered us some wine to mark this occasion,” John said. “We’ve a lot of catching up to do, Victor.”

Victor squinted as he examined the label on the bottle. “Ah, Malta Heritage. Splendid! You’re right. We have much to discuss.”

For the next half hour they briefly discussed their ups and downs on the sea of life and the reasons for John’s visit to the island. Victor abruptly brought their conversation back to the matter in hand and the reason he was now in need of his old companion.

“John,” said Victor, his voice suddenly taking a somber note. “I have a very serious situation and no one I can turn to. I hope you don’t mind me confiding in you, even though we haven’t seen each other for so many years. I know I can count on your discretion.”

“Of course, Victor, I’m only too pleased to help if I can. I must confess I’m at a loss about exactly how I could possibly be of service, but I’m sure you wouldn’t have written the letter you did and arranged such a quick meeting if you did not feel there was something I could do. You have me intrigued, especially if it involves the Shroud. Tell me more!”

From the anxious look on Victor’s face, John knew this was no trivial matter.

Victor removed his glasses and polished them slowly, as he met John’s eyes. “As you know, my life has been devoted to preserving our treasures from the past. Since we parted fifty years ago, I have spent almost every day in the service of our Lord, locating and preserving, as far as I could, those fragments of our past that lie at our feet everywhere one turns on this small island.

“My work apparently did not go unnoticed, and when Pope John Paul II visited us here in 2001 he was apparently impressed by my efforts. I was amazed to find a message scrawled in his own hand awaiting me on my return to my quarters one day, requesting that I call on him at the Presidential Palace where he was staying. I wondered what His Holiness could possibly want of me.”

“That was indeed a great honor! But do go on.”

“When I got there, I was ushered into his quarters and he immediately instructed those present to leave and told them that under no circumstances were we to be disturbed. You can imagine the thoughts that went rushing through my brain as this great man beckoned me to be seated next to him. He took my hand and asked if I would join him in prayer. As we knelt together, I couldn’t help but be overpowered by his great spirit. There was no doubt in my mind that this was God’s disciple on earth.” Tears welled up in Victor’s eyes as he relived those precious moments. He blinked them back, mopped his brow and put on his glasses, obviously at a loss over how to proceed.

“Go on, Victor,” John encouraged, feeling an unbelievable excitement building inside him. It was almost as if he was reliving the moments as Victor described them.

“His Holiness spoke briefly about my devotion to my work and my calling, and said that I had been chosen to help preserve one of the Church’s greatest treasures. He explained that what he was about to confide in me was to be a secret that must remain between us and was only known to a very few chosen members of his personal staff. The relic in question was of course, as you’ve possibly guessed, the Holy Shroud.”

Victor took a healthy sip of wine.

“I knew little of the Shroud before that time,” he went on. “I knew, of course, of its existence and never for a moment doubted its authenticity, as it was an esteemed relic of the church. On reading on your website of your interviews with the STURP group, I bought the discs and listened with great interest to the findings of the scientists involved. I had the pleasure of meeting Father Peter Rinaldi in Turin at a seminar some years earlier, but didn’t know of his role in the preservation of the Shroud.”

John thought how pleased he had been with the interview he had done with Father Rinaldi, the man appointed by Rome to be keeper of the holy relic and to whom the Pope was said to have confirmed that the face on the Shroud was that of Christ.

“His Holiness,” Victor said, “told me that the Church had been pleased by the results presented by members of the investigative team, despite the one dissenting voice of Walter McCrone. He went on to say, however, that there was serious concern that the cloth would suffer greatly if it were subjected to further tests and exposure. This was heightened by considerable pressure to expose the cloth to the carbon dating process. Segments would have to be cut from the cloth in order for the tests to be carried out – a procedure His Holiness was totally opposed to.”

“I can understand why,” John muttered.

“So could I,” Victor said. “The Pope went on to explain that after much prayer and pondering over this matter, he had concluded that little would be proved by carbon dating verification. He, members of the Church, and now the STURP team, all knew full well that this was the cloth in which the Savior had been wrapped at the time his body had been placed in the tomb. This relic is now truly one of the gospels, the only real evidence that Christ suffered in the manner the writings of the disciples had stated. Contact with the Shroud is as close as one can come to touching Christ himself!”

He paused, as if uncertain how to continue. “The Pope reasoned that if the carbon dating were to show the cloth to be other than a first-century relic, there would still be no explanation for the remarkable image or how it got there. There would still be those who would insist on further tests. If, for whatever reason, the tests showed that the cloth were to be of a much later period, this would do little to shake the faith of the true believers … however, His Holiness felt that it would put an end to such tests if those of little faith were satisfied that it was indeed a fake.”

Victor paused to sip his wine. John listened in amazement. He had heard rumors of the Pope’s intense interest in the Shroud. Still, he could hardly believe what he was hearing from this old friend seated before him.

“You know, Victor,” he said thoughtfully, “Father Rinaldi mentioned an occasion when he was in the presence of His Holiness. He told me that the Pope had turned to him, pointing to the face on the Shroud, and said in hushed tones, ‘Whenever I look on this face, I know I am looking at Him – it is the Lord!’ I thought at the time that this was an amazing admission from one who so many believe speaks for God.”

Victor nodded slowly, in unspoken consent. “His Holiness proceeded to explain to me that after much contemplation and prayer it had been decided that this most holy relic be removed from public display and any further possible harm. The dilemma arose as to how to explain this without appearing to be afraid of the outcome of further tests. A number of scenarios were contemplated and discussed, until it was suggested that the Church replace the original with a ‘true fake’ and –”

“Wait a minute,” John interrupted. What do you mean by a ‘true fake’? A replica?”

“Well, word had reached Father Rinaldi that an actual copy of the original, almost indistinguishable from the real one, had been made by none other than Leonardo da Vinci, whilst he served as Grand Master of the Priory of Sion,” Victor explained. “The Pope told me that Father Rinaldi had undertaken the task of finding this copy to replace the actual Shroud in the cathedral in Turin. The original was to be brought to His Holiness at the Vatican for safekeeping.”

John sat absolutely still, dumfounded. He could hardly believe his ears. Here, at last, was the explanation for all his misgivings. How had the STURP team got it so wrong? The simple explanation was that they hadn’t! But Leonardo da Vinci? John knew there was a series of replica shrouds in existence – about thirty-eight in all, as far as he knew. In fact, he was scheduled to undertake the restoration of one of them this week. It was housed in the Wignacourt Museum in the same city as Father Victor’s St. Agatha’s Catacombs – Rabat.

Whenever such a reproduction was obtained, John recalled, the Shroud was held in veneration by the faithful. He knew of such reproductions in several countries: there is one in Belgium and another in Argentina; two in France and two others in Portugal; thirteen in Spain and nineteen in Italy, besides the original Shroud of Turin.

Apart from the Shroud of Rabat, another of these reproductions, held in Spain, was of particular interest to him, as he had had the opportunity some years ago to visit it. It was obtained through the good offices of a Grand Prior of the Knights of Malta.

Francisco Lucas Bueno, Bishop of Malta and Grand Master of the Religion of St. John in the year 1650 A.D., obtained a copy from the Royal Savoy Family. On 8 October 1652, he sent the Shroud to Saragossa to the Lord Receiver of St. John who, in turn, entrusted it to Antonio Bueno and Andres Martinez of Campillo de Aragon. They gave it to the people of Campillo. This relic, John recalled, is kept over the altar in a chapel constructed for the purpose and is guarded by two strong doors in gold.

Victor had been closely watching John’s face for a reaction as he unfolded the events of that dramatic first meeting with his beloved pontiff. He noticed the look of total amazement on John’s face switch to one of almost total disbelief.

“I know how incredible all this must seem to you, John, particularly as you’ve been so close to the investigative work that has been carried out. It’s why I felt that, in light of the disaster I am about to unfold, you were just about the only person I could trust with the true facts.”

“I think this calls for a top-up,” John said, reaching for the bottle of wine and refilling their glasses. “Please continue, Victor.”

“I must confess that I was not prepared for what followed. His Holiness rose from his chair and walked toward a silver casket placed on the coffee table in front of him. To my continuing amazement, he opened the box and carefully displayed the contents. There before me was the holy relic – the burial cloth of Christ! I dropped to my knees, overcome with uncontrollable emotion.” Victor paused, as if unable to continue. His eyes blurred with unshed tears.

John felt a prickle of alarm. Victor was obviously under deep emotional stress. What could possibly be worrying him so? he wondered. He was soon to find out.

Chapter 4 (Day 1: late evening)

“Victor, my dear friend,” John said soothingly, moving across and placing a comforting arm around Victor’s shoulder. “I can understand how overwhelmed you must have been.”

Victor removed his glasses and fumbled for a handkerchief to wipe his eyes.

With obvious effort, he continued. “His Holiness told me that after much contemplation he had personally selected me and the island of Malta to safeguard this remarkable treasure. Having withstood the onslaught of many nations and been home to the Knights Templar, there was no better fortress than this to protect this most Holy of Holies. He had even selected the location! The sacred grotto of St. Paul. As I’m sure you’re aware, St. Paul and St. Luke were prisoners on their way to Rome to be tried for political rebellion, when their ship floundered on the rocky coast of Malta, somewhere to the north of St. Paul’s Bay. They sheltered for the winter in a cave near Rabat and were cared for by the locals who, as the apostle recorded, were renowned for their hospitality.”

John recalled the speech made by the Pope on his second visit to the island in 2001, when he had specifically mentioned the sacred grotto. In a speech that had been widely reported, the Pope had said:

I remember the Bay and the Islands of Saint Paul, and in particular the ancient Grotto, venerated as the place where he stayed.

“You mean to tell me, Victor, that the actual Shroud is right here, on the island?” John gasped, his mind reeling under this incredible news.

“Well … that, my dear friend, is just the problem. I don’t know!”

Noticing the bewildered look on John’s face, he hastened to explain. “You see, ten days ago the Shroud vanished. I was the only one on the island who knew the whereabouts of the precious cloth, or so I thought. As I didn’t want to draw attention to my interest in it or my close inspection of it, I would secretly visit its location once a week to check on its safety. Ten days ago, I went as usual and to my utter amazement and dismay the casket was … was gone.”

Victor looked at John with haunted eyes. “I had no idea what to do – the possibility that someone would steal it seemed almost impossible. It was not a situation I had ever considered. Who could I tell without disclosing to the world that the real Shroud not only actually existed but that the Church had purposely misled the investigation? His Holiness placed his trust in me and I … I have failed.” His voice broke…………….

……………You will help me won’t you, John?” Victor’s eyes pleaded far louder than his words………………………………………………………………………………….

Chapter 10 (Day 3: morning)

Rosaria arrived at John’s hotel promptly at 9 am. As she walked into the restaurant, John was struck by her confidence, her grace and her loveliness. Her deep brown eyes sparkled with vivacity. The silky brown hair brushing her shoulders framed a lovely face and her petite figure left no doubt about her gender!

She held out her hand. “Good morning, Dr. Peters.”

He looked into her deep brown eyes.

“Hello, Rosaria. And what’s all this ‘Dr. Peters’ formality? Call me John, please.”

“Okay, John.” Her smile extended to her eyes. “Victor has told me so much about you. I’ve really been looking forward to this meeting.”

It was a beautiful morning and they enjoyed their breakfast on the terrace overlooking the calm waters of the Mediterranean. John, on the other hand, was far from calm. His deepening concern that there was much more involved here than a missing relic had been eating at him all night.

Rosaria was delightful. They hit it off together immediately. She was obviously deeply worried about Victor and felt helpless about the predicament he now found himself in.

John, at the very least, was another mind to help tackle the problem before them. She told him all she knew and had deduced since the incident. It was not a lot. And, of course, she had no clue about the real contents of the missing casket.

John suggested they move to his room, where they would be assured of reasonable privacy.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked. “I understand you are writing a piece on the convention. Perhaps we should get that out of the way first?”

“Thank you, that sounds like a good idea. Perhaps you’d like to start by telling me how you got involved with the Shroud. I have the press release on the theme of the convention and the goals of the Shroud Society. I’d like to give the story a personal touch as you have a background here, even if it was some time ago,” she said, quickly adding, “Please forgive me, I didn’t mean that to sound rude!”

“Not at all. Fifty years is a fair time to be absent from somewhere that meant so much to me.”

Rosaria clicked on a tiny recorder and placed it on the table between them. “Do you mind, John? It’s just so I don’t miss anything.” He nodded.

“Of course, I had no idea of the Shroud’s existence when I was here – it was some considerable years after I got involved in broadcasting that the mystery of the image on the cloth was brought to my attention by one of my listeners.”

“I know of your interviews,” she said. “How did that come about?”

“Some time later, following the 1978 testing of the Shroud by the STURP group, my producer suggested we do a follow-up on our original story and we invited the members of the STURP group to take part in a series of live interviews on their findings………………………………………………………………………………..

Chapter 15 (Day 4: late evening)

Long after John and the others had left, Victor remained at his desk, thinking of their discussion. It was certainly good to have someone to confide in. He had missed his old friend over the years. During the five short years they had worked together they had become very close, one of those inexplicable bonds that last a lifetime. Victor had been saddened when their contact all but ceased, as John got involved in other fields of endeavor. Had he done right in getting him involved in this bizarre mystery? He wished his failing eyesight had not prevented him from attending John’s closing speech to the visiting convention.

As Victor pondered Brian’s conclusion, he tried to think of who else might be aware of the little-known passage leading to the grotto. Brother Darren immediately came to mind.

What about Brother Darren? he thought. He may be a misguided young man, but is he really capable of doing something like this? I’m sure he has many redeeming qualities. Could he have taken the casket thinking the contents were what I have told the world at large, just historical papers pertaining to St. Paul’s shipwreck on the Island of Malta?

He knew he was tired and should head for bed, but his brain refused to cooperate, pummeling his mind with questions. And if he has taken the casket, how? The gates were locked! As far as I know, the young man doesn’t know about the secret entrance. And even if he stole the casket during the day, why did no one see him? So many unanswered questions …

Leaning heavily against his desk as he arose, Father Victor took a key from his cassock to open a small safe in the corner of his office and proceeded to remove a plastic envelope containing papers. Among them were two envelopes, one of which bore the papal seal; the other was open and showed signs of its great age.

For a long time, Victor stared at the package, his brow creased with worry. Finally, he slipped it into his inside pocket and left his office. He made his way from the museum to his quarters in the main building.

As he entered, he saw a light under Brother Darren’s door. This was unusual; novices were encouraged to retire early. As he approached the door, he became even more perplexed. There were voices emanating from the room. Novices were strictly forbidden from having visitors in their rooms, other than on open days – and even then, only close family.

Victor slowed his pace to a shuffle as he edged toward the closed door. The voices were raised in anger and Victor immediately recognized Brother Darren’s. He could hear only snatches of conversation.

“Please … very difficult … a mistake to … ” That was young Darren, his voice pitched high.

“No choice … taking too long … as discussed.” The stranger’s voice was low and menacing. It suddenly rose in volume and the next few words stopped Victor in his tracks!

“How often do I have to repeat myself? The Illuminati does not take kindly to dissenters. You made a commitment. You have been paid. We shall expect delivery as agreed!”

Victor heard heavy footsteps move towards the door. Much as he wanted to see the face of the intruder, he did not want to be seen. Moving as fast as he could, he walked quickly away toward his room across the hall. The light from Brother Darren’s opening door flashed across the hall, illuminating his entry into his room, but he dared not turn. Had they seen him, he wondered, his heart throbbing, the blood pounding in his ears. He shakily lowered himself to his bed.

For hours he lay awake. The Illuminati! What on earth has young Darren got himself into now? More important, what at St. Agatha’s can possibly be of interest to that notorious group?

Victor had read much about the workings of this secret society. Determined as they were supposed to be to overthrow the Catholic Church, he had never heard mention of their presence on the tiny island of Malta.

The first published proof of the Illuminati appeared around 1789 – a secret society of powerful individuals whose goal was to replace all world religions with what they described as humanism. As Victor understood the movement, it rejects a divine authority and proposes a single world-dominating government through assassination, bribery and blackmail. By moving their principal members into positions of power in world governments, banks, and even the Church, they intend to ultimately be in a position of global domination. There is no question that the largest body of people on our planet is today influenced by one great power, the Catholic Church! Anything that discredited the Church and possibly led to its downfall from grace would greatly further their interests and eventual goal.

“My God!” Victor exclaimed aloud. “The Shroud! It has to be that! They’ve discovered the real contents of the casket!”

Victor’s head was spinning. Had the Illuminati found out about the switch? Did they know about the holy relic’s arrival in Malta? There was no doubt that the secret society had infiltrated the Vatican, but could they have managed to insinuate a member into the inner circle that enjoyed the Pope’s confidence? Who could he tell, what should he do? Victor dropped to his knees in prayer…………………………………………….

From the Author - "I hope you have enjoyed these short segments from my first work of historical fiction.All references to the Shroud, The Knights and the investigative study of the sacred cloth are factual including the reported deaths of over 29 of those associated with the Shroud during it's recorded history."

The book should be available 1st September 2008

About The Author

Photo-journalist, retired Archaeologist, Television producer and Radio Host.In the late 70’s P.J.Shield interviewed the investigative team sent to Turin to investigate the Shroud of Turin. A CD of his interviews with the STURP team is the basis of this mystery and is available to be included with the book!

Copyright 2008-2009, Dr. Peter J. Shield Phd. ARP (Expires April 19, 2009)

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Author Reference Number	804018hf
Author Name	Dr. Peter J. Shield Phd. ARP
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