Papal Quest: Search for the Ancient Book of the Master

By T. Clement Robison

The teachings of the world’s three greatest religions provide the backdrop for a suspense filled tale of deception and intrigue. The author entices his readers to examine their beliefs as they are enmeshed in a dangerous journey to the Holy Lands in search of the lost Book of the Master.
Ancient texts are uncovered requiring the pope to take drastic action to protect the Catholic Church from destructive scrutiny. Secrecy is of the highest priority as a search is made for an ancient manuscript hidden somewhere in the Middle East.
The Dead Sea Scrolls, the Bible, and the Books of Enoch are examined so the reader can understand the importance of the lost book. Lives are threatened and lost, but the price must be paid to hide the truth and protect the faithful.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669826965

T. Clement Robison

OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR W.I.A. (Wounded in Action) Enemy of My Enemy Operation Duck Hook Lost Treasure of the Grand Strand The Improbable Life of Billy T. Kettle Corpse on Cape Romain

Book preview

PAPAL

QUEST

Search for the Ancient

Book of the Master

T. CLEMENT ROBISON

Copyright © 2022 by T. Clement Robison.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 06/01/2022

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

842522

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty One

Postscript

OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR

(W.I.A.) Wounded in Action

Enemy of My Enemy

Operation Duck Hook

Lost Treasure of the Grand Strand

The Improbable Life of Billy T. Kettle

Corpse on Cape Romain

Legend of Saint Boniface’s Chalice

Curse of Yamashita’s Gold

The Peculiar Disappearance of Professor Brownrigg

THIS STORY AND THE OTHER WORKS BY THE AUTHOR CAN BE PURCHASED FROM HIS WEBSITE: www.tcrobison.com

CHAPTER ONE

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Vatican City, Rome

February 22, 2015

It was the first Sunday of Lent. As was his habit Father Thomas Bartholomew had just attended mass in a small chapel reserved for use by staff off the main hall of Saint Peter’s Basilica. It was a cool but clear morning so he decided to walk back to his small apartment several blocks away.

He exited the huge cathedral descended the several steps leading to Saint Peter’s Square. The large plaza in the front of the Basilica was beginning to fill with tourists. In the center of the square stood a twenty-five-meter-tall obelisk brought from Egypt in 1586. Cleopatra’s Needle was flanked on both sides by marble and granite fountains. Crowds formed around and near the structures, some posing for photographs.

As he walked, he marveled at the traditional Renaissance architecture that surrounded him. The square was surrounded by two hundred and eight-four columns and eighty-eight pilasters four rows deep forming a colonnade topped with one hundred and forty statues of saints.

The plaza had been designed during the reign of Pope Alexander VII by Gian Lorenzo Bernin. He envisioned an area large enough to accommodate a great number of worshipers who would gather to receive the pope’s blessings. Even though the plaza was part of the independent Vatican State, Bartholomew could see members of the Italian police force patrolling the area. As he walked his cassock flapped in the light breeze. With the sun in his face, he whistled a non-descript tune as he strolled.

Father Bartholomew had held his low-level position as a research assistant on the Pontifical Commission for the revision of the Code of Canon Law, part of the Roman Curia, for less than one year. He was one of a dozen staff members. Each of whom had come to the Vatican out of a belief they were doing God’s work. He was not scheduled to work for the next two days. He hoped to use the free time to catch up on his reading and do some site-seeing.

He had come to Rome upon the recommendation of his parish priest and mentor, Monsignor Joseph Billings. The monsignor believed moving to Rome would meet both the needs of the young priest who seemed restless in his then current position in a small parish in Michigan and the need of the Vatican for assistants who were trained in the law. He also knew Bartholomew’s military training would provide the discipline necessary to perform the often-tedious tasks of his position.

Even more so, living in one of the oldest and most historic cities in the world would provide opportunities for extensive travel and learning throughout Europe appeasing his thirst for knowledge and adventure. At least those were two of the selling points used by the monsignor to convince Bartholomew to apply for and accept the position.

After stopping at a neighborhood grocery store, he continued his walk to his small apartment deciding along the way that dinner that evening would consist of buttered pasta, steamed vegetables and, of course, wine. While his salary was sufficient to meet his necessary expenses, it was not sufficient to support more than a basic diet. Food in Rome was known to be notoriously expensive. He knew he should forego purchasing the wine but felt his life style was meager enough that a glass of good wine at evening meal was more of a necessity than an extravagance. He reasoned red wine during a meal helped with digestion and heart health. Besides, Italy produced some of the finest wines in the world. He had grown especially fond of Cesai, Due Torre Pinot Noir della Venezia 2007.

Food wasn’t the only thing that was very expensive. Housing in the city, even a small apartment, could cost as much a three-quarters of a worker’s monthly income. If you were lucky enough to find a vacant apartment at all. Bartholomew was aware many of his co-workers chose to live outside of the city and commute to work using the rail system or busses. Many co-workers shared housing, which helped with the costs. In some cases, five or six workers would rent a small house in the countryside. Sadly, commuting incurred additional costs, primarily in time. In many areas passenger trains required a worker to leave extremely early in the morning in order to accommodate the many stops the train made on the way into the city. He knew of several co-workers who were required to awake at five in the morning to catch a six o’clock train which would arrive in Rome at eight o’clock. The return home in the evening used up additional time. Because to him time was important, Bartholomew chose to live in a small, cramped apartment within walking distance to work.

After consuming his meal and clearing the table, he washed and dried the few dishes before he sat down is a well-worn overstuffed leather chair and picked up the book he was currently reading. A holy card marked the spot where he had left off the previous evening. The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown was a novel frowned upon by the Catholic Church because it alluded to the possibility that the Merovingian kings of France were descendants of a marriage between Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene. While the church had not outright banned the book, Bartholomew knew his superiors would not be pleased if they knew he was reading it which, made it even more appealing. He had always known deep down he was somewhat of a rebel which often made him wonder why he had chosen such a conservative profession as the priesthood.

He had graduated from a Catholic high school followed by Notre Dame University and later its law school, the second oldest Catholic law school in the country. From there he moved on to Saint John’s Seminary, also in Indiana. Coming from a strong Catholic family and with all that religious training, he had only done what he thought was expected of him.

However, after being ordained he did what was not expected of him, he joined the army. After basic training and advance infantry training, he signed up for jump school at Fort Benning, Georgia. After receiving his jump wings, he was attached to the 101st Airborne Division as an intelligence officer. Since he had not obtained a graduate degree in either theological or religious studies, he knew he could not join the Chaplain’s Corps and he knew he did not want to join the Judge Advocate General’s Office because it would not provide the excitement of a combat position.

He served one tour in Afghanistan and was then moved to the Pentagon for a year before his enlistment was up. A friend introduced him to Monsignor Billings who persuaded the bishop to place Bartholomew in his home town parish. He was then back to where he had started and he wasn’t all that pleased about it.

He had taken the position with the Holy See partly because there were so few other options available to him. His work as a parish priest offered little in the way of true career fulfillment. At least working at Vatican City, the very center of Christianity, he would be afforded the opportunity to broaden his religious education and perhaps be exposed to more career-directed opportunities.

Father Bartholomew knew focusing on himself and his career may seem to others to be somewhat selfish, especially for a priest. He justified it by a belief the more knowledge he obtained about his chosen profession and its teachings, the more knowledge he could impart to others. Throughout history priests have always been considered teachers.

He was convinced exposure to all different aspects of the Catholic religion combined with travel would broaden his view of not only his faith but also the world. He had already met various ethnic groups, making him a more rounded individual, better able to communicate and understand the concerns of those with whom he came into contact regardless of their backgrounds.

He didn’t believe faith should be static and unchanging. He believed faith should be fluid and flexible, at least to some degree, in order to appeal to more people. It wasn’t the basic tenets of his faith that concerned him but more the application of dogma to different groups of believers throughout the world.

He saw religion in the form of a menu; pick and choose from it that which makes you happy and fulfilled. He was sure not all members of the clergy would agree with him so he kept his thoughts and beliefs to himself, for now, hoping one day to be able to put his beliefs into practice.

Anticipating his two days off, he turned his attention to the following day’s activities. Like many tourists, he made plans to tour the city. He did not possess the necessary funds to purchase a guided tour so he took the time to plan a self-guided walking tour. He had obtained a detailed map of Rome and began laying out his route, noting attractions he felt he could visit in a single day.

He decided to begin his tour by visiting the Spanish Steps, erected in 1723, which connected the Piazza di Spagna with the Piazza Trinita dei Monti. He had not yet decided whether to climb all the one hundred and thirty-eight steps to the top. Tourists were attracted to the steps because it was believed the vastness of the monument represented the City of Rome itself, at least metaphorically. Unfortunately, the steps would not be adorned at this time of the year with the thousands of azaleas as they would be in the spring.

However, he did know for sure he would visit the Pantheon, a former Roman temple dedicated in 126 A.D. and observe it’s wonderous Greek architecture-style pediment supported by massive granite Corinthian capped columns. The temple had been converted to a Catholic church in 609 A.D. and renamed the Basilica of Saint Mary and Martyrs.

He would follow that with a walk down the Appian Way stopping first at the Tomb of Priscilla which dated back to the first century.

His tour would take him past the Church of Domine Quo Vadis located in the area where it was believed the Apostle Peter once lived. Further down the ancient road he would encounter the Catacombs of Saint Callixtus and Saint Sebastian where several martyrs and popes were buried.

He had decided he possessed sufficient funds to treat himself to a lunch at one of the low-cost restaurants in the area. A co-worked had recommended the Palatium Restaurant, near the Spanish Steps, where all the ingredients were purchased from local farmers and the wines were from local wineries.

As he prepared for bed his excitement of touring the Eternal City had peaked. Unfortunately, circumstances beyond his control would intervene and put his plans on hold.

CHAPTER TWO

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The clock on the bedside table read 9:35. Bartholomew had just finished his evening prayers when he heard what sounded like a faint knocking. The sound was so faint he at first did nothing, wondering if there was someone at his door or maybe that of one of his neighbors. When he heard it again, this time slightly louder, he realized it was coming from outside of his apartment. Wondering who could be visiting at this late hour, he rose from his knees and slowly walked into the small living room.

He turned the switch on the wall and the room was instantly bathed is a soft yellow glow from the overhead light fixture. He allowed the door to fully open revealing a man, perhaps a little older than he, standing in the hallway. Good evening, Father Bartholomew, I am Father Dominic Romano. Do you, by chance, know of me?

I know of a priest by that name who is a special assistant to His Holiness, Pope Clement. If we have met, I do not recall, Bartholomew replied eyeing the priest dressed in street clothes.

You are correct. I am one of the special assistants to the Holy Father. It is in that capacity that I have been directed to call on you this evening. I apologize for the late hour but the darkness of the night is a benefit to my reason for visiting you this evening.

Directed? By whom?

By His Holiness himself, came the reply.

Wait a minute. Are you telling me Pope Clement asked that you contact me? How can that be? I mean, how would he even know of my existence? How would he know where I live? Come on, there must be some mistake. Are you sure you have the right Thomas Bartholomew?

A smile crept over the face of the priest still standing in the hallway. I am very sure and I will gladly explain to you the purpose of my visit. May I come in?

Thomas had a bewildered look on his face as he nodded and stepped back away from the entrance.

Once inside the living room, Father Romano turned and asked, Shall we sit down?

Again, Thomas just nodded.

Romano took a seat on a small sofa and Thomas sat in the overstuffed chair. Romano leaned forward and began talking in a low voice. You are being summoned to an audience with Pope Clement this very evening. He has directed me to contact you and escort you back to the Vatican. I have an automobile waiting downstairs.

An audience with the pope…tonight? Bartholomew repeated in disbelief.

That is correct, Romano replied glancing at his watch. We have very little time so if you would quickly get dressed, we can leave.

Get dressed? What do I wear to a meeting with the pope?

His Holiness requests you attire yourself in street clothes.

Street clothes, are you sure?

Yes, very sure. Now please hurry, Romano replied as he stood up and moved to the door.

Bartholomew also stood and hesitantly walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Minutes later he emerged wearing a pair of slacks, a dress shirt with a button-down collar and a placket front, a non-descript tie, loafers, and a tweed sport coat. These are the best clothes I have, he said apologetically.

I assure you they will be fine, Romano replied while standing in the doorway.

His escort opened the passenger side door and motioned for Bartholomew to enter the sedan. After Romano took his place behind the steering wheel, he turned the ignition key and the motor came to life. He skillfully changed gears as the vehicle entered traffic and sped through the moonless night toward the domed Basilica of Saint Peter.

Bartholomew quickly noticed his companion did not use any of the main roads but only backstreets as they traveled. In fact, Romano made so many different turns, Bartholomew could not easily get his bearings. It wasn’t until twenty minutes later, when the vehicle came to a complete stop in a dimly lit alley and Romano exited the vehicle, did Bartholomew understand they had reached their destination.

Please follow me, Father Bartholomew.

I have no other choice. I have no idea where we are at.

Romano turned and smiled, We are in Vatican City a few meters from the private residence.

A confused Bartholomew grabbed the arm of his companion, stopping him in mid-step. With a quivering lip he asked, I’m to meet His Holiness in his living quarters?

Yes, now please, we must hurry.

Romano pushed a wrought-iron gate open and after a few quick steps they entered the building through a door leading to a well-lit hallway. Taking Bartholomew by the arm Romano maneuvered him up a wide stairway, down a long hall and into a small room, void of any windows. He motioned for the young priest to take a seat in one of the high-backed leather side chairs. Wait here and I will let His Holiness know you have arrived, Romano instructed as he exited the room. Bartholomew looked at his wrist watch. It read 10:30 p.m.

Time passed slowly while he waited. He ran several scenarios through his mind as to why Pope Clement would summon him for an audience at such a late hour, or any audience, for that matter. It was his understanding from talk he overheard from his colleagues His Holiness retired for the night at quite an early hour, given the fact it was rumored he would usually awake at around five o’clock in the morning.

None of the scenarios Bartholomew could think of made any sense. In the hierarchy of the Church, he had to be at the lowest possible level. He just couldn’t believe the pope even knew he was alive, let alone of any importance to the administrative responsibilities of the pope, who represented over one billion Catholics throughout the world. He speculated there must be hundreds of priests who could easily replace him–perhaps thousands.

He reflected on the entire amount of time he had been in Rome. He wondered if he had made some mistake that would have brought him to the attention of the pope. Considering the multiple layers of bureaucracies and superiors between his department and the pope, it was hard to believe, if he had made a mistake, someone would not have brought it to his attention before now.

He rationalized if he had made a mistake, it must have been huge to have been brought to the attention of the pope. If that was the case he most certainly would be discharged. Oddly enough, that caused him to wonder if he could get his old position back with Monsignor Billings.

He tried to focus on some other reason he may have been summoned. Could it be the pope has a question about Canon Law? While his work involved aspects of the law, his area of expertise was very narrow, concerning only the law and how it relates to marriage annulments. He concentrated on the various aspects of annulments and tried to remember, as best he could, the major points of annulment rules and procedures. It all seemed so mundane he had trouble believing the pope would care about such a minor part of what was the huge body of Canon Law.

He looked at his watch again. It seemed as if Father Romano had been gone for a long time but his watch read 10:35; only five minutes had passed.

Bartholomew fidgeted in the chair and finally stood up. He adjusted his tie, buttoned, and unbuttoned his sport coat while wishing he had purchased better, more appropriate civilian clothes. He owned an old blue suit but had not worn it since he was ordained, preferring to dress in the traditional black cassock. He hadn’t even packed the suit when he moved to Rome. He looked down at his shoes. At least they are shined, he thought.

He looked again at his watch: 10:40. He felt the muscles in his back tense and he stomach became queasy. Oh Lord, I’m not going to be sick, he mumbled, swallowing the saliva which had formed in his mouth.

Just as he felt he could no longer endure the waiting, the door on the opposite end of the room opened and an unfamiliar man motioned for him to enter another room.

The area was of moderate size. The windows on two of the walls were covered with heavy velvet drapery. The overhead crystal chandelier cast a warm glow throughout the room. The light beams caused the highly polished marble floor to sparkle. There were two chairs placed facing each other in the center of the room. Next to one of the chairs was a small ornate table. On the table sat a silver tray with a silver water pitcher, two crystal stem-ware glasses, and white linen napkins folded neatly placed on top of each other.

The man took Bartholomew by the arm and directed him to the chair across from the one next to the table. Remain standing, His Holiness will join you momentarily. Take your seat only after he has taken his. If he offers, you may kiss his ring. Do not take ahold of his hand to do so. Allow him to speak first. After you are seated, you may fold your hands and place them in your lap. Make no hand gestures. Rise only after His Holiness rises. Remain standing until he leaves the room. Father Romano will return and escort you back to the vehicle. You will then be returned to your quarters. Do you understand Father?

Bartholomew slowly nodded his understanding. He sensed the wetness of his palms. He thought of wiping them on his pant legs but refrained from doing so. There was a tightness in his chest. His eyes were fixed straight ahead so he didn’t notice the man leave the room. The silence was deafening. He could feel his blood pressure rise causing a faint pounding in his ears. Remain calm, remain calm, a voice in his head kept repeating.

Seconds passed before a door at the back of the room opened and Pope Clement VII walked briskly into the room stopping directly in front of the young priest. He was dressed in a pure while cassock with a red sash fastened around his waist, similar to his traditional vestments worn in public. A white satin skull cap sat on the back of the head. A large crucifix attached to a long golden chain hung around his neck. Bartholomew thought he looked quite regal.

Clement didn’t offer his hand but instead quickly sat down in the opposite chair. After a few seconds, Bartholomew sat down as well.

The two men made eye contact and a smile spread across the pope’s face before saying, I’m sure you are wondering why I have asked you meet with me, especially at such a late hour.

Bartholomew did not immediate respond, still somewhat in shock. Finally, he found his voice. I am humbled to be called into your presence at any hour, Holy Father. I am humbled further that you even know of my existence.

The pope’s smile grew broader. His eyes grew warm. You may be surprised to learn, not only do I know of your existence, but I also know a great deal about you as well. Your grades in school and at Saint John’s seminary were very high. You distinguished yourself in several disciplines. You hold a law degree from Notre Dame. You graduated third in your class and afterwards joined the army and attended Officer Candidate School where you graduated second in your class. You went on to serve two more years in the military obtaining the grade of captain. During that time, you were involved in military intelligence serving a tour in Afghanistan. You were later stationed at the Pentagon when your enlistment ended, am I not, correct?

Yes, Your Holiness.

I also know both your parents are deceased and you have no living siblings. Your sister Maria passed away at a young age.

Yes, that is all true, Bartholomew replied, overwhelmed by the depth of the pope’s knowledge.

Please, if you would, tell me what it was exactly you did as an intelligence officer, Clement asked.

Bartholomew thought for a moment and then responded, I was the commanding officer of an intelligence company. Our duties were to gather information from various sources, including civilian indigenous personal, prisoners, and military assets, both human and electronic. We were then required to analyze the intelligence and draft reports to assist higher command in their operations planning.

When you say you were required to analyze intelligence you gathered, what did you hope to find?

Again, Bartholomew hesitated before speaking. "Our primary focus was on enemy activities, but it also included the extent of which they were able to prosecute the war, the number of combat soldiers, their supplies, weapons and training, and the enemy’s entire defense network.

In addition, we were interested in the extent of the enemy’s support from the indigenous population.

Were you ever required to physically go out into the countryside and obtain this intelligence information?

Yes, all of us in my S-2 section, both officers and enlisted, were required at various times to accompany combat teams on their missions into the towns, and villages. We worked with interpreters to interrogate both military prisoners and civilians in order to gather information.

That sounds to be very dangerous. Did you ever fear for your safety on these missions? the pope asked watching closely Bartholomew’s reaction to the question.

Yes, it was dangerous and there were several times when our teams were caught in firefights with the enemy. We all carried weapons and there were occasions when we needed to use them to protect ourselves. So, yes, there were several times when I feared for my safety.

Did that fear ever stop you from being able to perform your duties?

Bartholomew thought the pope’s question was somewhat odd. There certainly wasn’t any fear of any kind associated with his work at the Vatican. He couldn’t imagine why that basic emotion would be of any interest to the pope.

No, I don’t recall any time when fear interfered with my ability to perform my duties.

Well, that is certainly good to hear. The Church admires courage in its priests.

Thank you, Your Holiness.

Bartholomew’s confusion as to why he had been brought before the pope continued to grow as their discussion continued.

The pope asked more questions about Bartholomew’s duties in the service before pausing. He reached for the water pitcher and one of the glasses. Would you care for some water? he asked.

Bartholomew’s throat was dry from his nervousness answering all the pope’s questions so he replied that he would like a drink. He was astonished when Clement poured water into both glasses and handed one wrapped in a napkin to him. Being served anything by the pope was remarkable, even though Pope Clement was known for his occasional informality.

The cool water cured the dryness and helped to relax Thomas. He relaxed even further when the pope leaned forward and motioned for the priest to hand him the empty glass.

After a short pause, the pope again smiled as he spoke. Father Bartholomew I’m sure you are still wondering why I have asked you here this evening. And I am sure you are confused by all my personal questions.

Bartholomew did not respond believing his confusion was obvious from the questioning expression on his face.

CHAPTER THREE

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"How much do you know about the Books of Enoch?" Clement asked.

Bartholomew was astounded the pope would ask him a question about such an obscured ancient text. Although remotely related to the study of Canon Law, the Books certainly weren’t anything he would need to know in order to perform his duties. So, he replied as best he could.

"All