The Archangel of a Black Feather. Al Crown
was amazed about the archive, even if he never had the chance to visit the Vatican’s secret collection. He asked Laura, “How is it possible to find or reach an old document after all these centuries?” Laura replied, “There are strict limitations for researchers and students willing to enter the archives. However, I discovered that in the seventeenth century, under the orders of Pope Paul V, the secret archive was separated from the Vatican Library, and coincidently, Father Larry was researching documents of that century.
Later, in 1817, the Vatican Secret Archives were brought back to Rome from France (after Napoleon removed it from Rome), and again, Father Larry made a personal trip on his own to France. In addition, in Spain between the sixteenth and the seventeenth century, numerous papal bulls were emanated and hidden in secret, yet Larry went to Spain twice to research.” Claudio was listening carefully, imagining all those long, dusty corridors stepped upon by heavy secrets of the past. His sister continued indulging the boy: “I think that Larry knew what he was looking for, following a specific line of connection to his new discoveries. A specific expedition, an exploration map and documents related to the facts.” Laura kept speaking of other secret archives hidden in several churches of Rome and outside Italy. It was an impossible challenge to track all those manuscripts and scrolls back in time, and Larry surely had pushed himself to achieve that. He had discovered an important historical secret dated back to the sixteenth century. Claudio was silent and thanked his sister for the information. He looked perplexed and was confused in his mind.
The time for the university exams was at hand, and Claudio with Isabel spent the last two weeks reviewing their topics. February was almost over, and people could feel the fresh breeze of the ocean growing warmer, while a blowing cold wind was drifting away. The sky was clean with bright stars and magic love was flying over.
Claudio rejoined his band as a guitar player, making Ryan happy again. He was ready to play while glancing outside the window, noticing the spectacular view of the obscured, cloudy North Shore hills. It was a nice area, boasting beautiful long sandy beaches located to the southwest, opposite of West Vancouver’s ocean shores. In summertime after playing, they used to spend the rest of the evening practicing beach volleyball friendly tournaments on the seaside.
At the beginning of March, police announced the presence of a new person in their custody, investigated in relation of Father Larry’s murder. Following police scrutinizing on Larry’s phone, tracing all his contents and movements, detectives decided to take a precautionary measure on the suspect. He was a native who used to live at the North Vancouver reserve. “The suspect went hiking more than once with Larry, he was well-versed in surviving the elements. He possesses a great range of expertise in moving through the woods, knowing the mountain trails and its wide-open area. The last day of Larry’s life, he was seen with the cleric at the church, as a few witnesses told us. Moreover, spiritual objects were found close to the crime scene…in particular a modest wooden homemade totem, emblazoned with a Templar cross that the suspect used to make and sell,” observed the North Van police officer exhibiting a think folder “A vast number of sheets engulfed the native’s dwelling, hidden behind a picture. Larry’s writing was on them, showing different dates and notes. Our experts evaluated all the manuscripts, finding complex research and mathematical calculations the priest computed methodically, following a faultless line. For the examiners additional documents were missing, given the fact that the order of pages was confused. One record was more complete, regarding the geographical structure of North America and Europe,” continuing. It was unusual to see that Mesotti was no longer the sole protagonist of the interviews. The officer motioned, introducing a symbologist-cryptographer, who took over and explained, “Father Larry, in his documents, was speculating about the two major oceans embracing the north part of the Earth. He compared the North Atlantic and the North Pacific Ocean as two water- sealed symbols,” pausing.
“To Larry it was the water sealing the Earth, and not the opposite, as the spirit embracing the body. The Earth dies without the water, while the water can live on itself, as the body dies without soul, and not vice-versa.” The expert continued, followed by a skeptical ambience: Kevin’s face was briskly shoved by the cameras, he glowed ominously.
“Our rector compared the present time to the Pacific Ocean, and the past to the Atlantic Ocean. Both are joined in time by their destiny, as the oceans are united by the same water. It is a dissertation related to Biblical prophecies, connecting the world through its basic focal components (water and earth). Larry Murphy is leading us throughout a mysterious journey, in an inverted past-present passage trail.”
Provincial homicide detectives appeared motionless despite the symbologist’s dissertation, as if obliged to let him talk. For the hardcore investigators, those documents were not related to Larry’s tragedy. Why kill him over mere scrolls of paper? Larry mentioned Vancouver as a prophetic revelation—the New World’city situated far west, dividing Canada from America, ideally.
Vancouver was level with Europe in a precise line, standing at the beginning of the Pacific Ocean, the largest and deepest of the world (cover- ing almost fifty-nine million square miles, and containing more than half of the water on Earth). Larry calculated in his cryptic secret code that all the world’s continents could fit in the Pacific basin, paring the two basic elements of life. The “Alfa” and “Omega” letters found inside his drawing were united forever in the beginning-ending of creation, Earth, and water, in comparison with Vancouver’s Ocean inlets and shores.
The provincial homicide squad, away from those literary speculations, supposed that the suspect could have killed Larry for money or revenge. The Catholics’ mendacious behavior in residential schools was an example. Being just a born killer, very well experienced in this wild green territory was just impossible.
CHAPTER XIII
Macabre Frequencies
March 17 was Claudio’s twenty-second birthday, and he directed with his friends to Whistler, celebrating and enjoying the massages and baths of the pompous Scandinavian Spa. In the evening he offered dinner and drinks to all, coming back home late the same night. Way back on the upper-level highway, Claudio screamed frantically, making Ryan swerve dangerously. Isabel said loudly, “What’s the matter, Claudio? You scare the hell out of me! Did we hit an animal or what?”
He spasmodically answered, “Did you see that thing on the roadside? She was… for God’s sake.”
Ryan flabbergasted: “Are you serious? We almost got astray, do you want to kill us all, with your jokes!”
Isabel, in the backseat, grabbed Claudio’s hand and felt he was shaking tremendously. She asked, “What did you see, my dear? You look scared. We should look outside, perhaps.” Ryan denied: “No! Are you crazy, guys! It is dark and we need to call our friends in the second vehicle. If they don’t see us, they will think something happened.” Isabel insisted, “What if someone out there needs help? You should go before us. Come on, you’re the one who’s going to be a police officer.” Claudio courageously: “I’ll go, I have no fear. I know I saw something out there—a girl, I think.”
“Are you sure. If so, I will follow you,” supported Isabel.
The two exited the car and walked carefully back to the side of the road, while Ryan approached the rest area. A light mist was flowing along the border of the North Shore woods, as if tracing them. Claudio advanced and spotted a shadowy figure concealed behind a bush…Isabel stayed far back. He motioned swiftly toward the woods, when the image moved, luring Claudio in a desperate chase along the forest perimeter.
Isabel rubbed her scalp. “Wait! I cannot see you with this fog, don’t run, please.” She was reaching Claudio from a distance. He saw the girl, presenting her shoulders. She was emitting a sinister crying, and Claudio realized she was an adult with the voice of a child…hands moving outward clutching a red rose.
Isabel stopped again, calling for Claudio, as a grown-up shape revolved. An old woman was bearing the head of a little girl! Claudio screamed loudly when she spread her arms, displaying a mantle made of dirty roots, hang- ing like innards…dripping fluids. Her feeble, eerie childish voice emitted a sound. Claudio, blinded