During all of those conflicts van Eyck engaged in covert missions for Philip, using the guise of an artist to make detailed observations. He was nearly the perfect spy and Philip had been thrilled with the results. So much so that in 1428 he dispatched van Eyck to the south and the cursed Languedoc, a place that had been a thorn in the French monarchy抯 side for a long time. Philip planned to sow further discontent for Charles by stirring up the south. Van Eyck completed his mission but was discovered by Moors and chased over the border into the Pyr閚閑s, where he happened upon a mountain convent. Women the Moors would not defy. Women who bore a strange name.
Les Vautours.
He spent a week with the Maidens of Saint-Michael, marveling at their closed community and making friends. That friendship was tested in 1431 when Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. By a stroke of good fortune van Eyck抯 patron, Philip the Good, had been the one who captured and sold Joan to the English. During her four-month trial the maidens reestablished contact with Jan van Eyck. Their first desire was to effect a rescue. But when that became impossible, it had been van Eyck who aided them in retrieving Joan抯 ashes. Those were taken south, to the mountains and the motherhouse, where they were reverently buried in what was known as the Chapel of the Maiden.
揓oan was one of us,?the mother superior said. 揝he was so young. A mere postulant, who left the motherhouse and ventured north, thrusting herself into the Hundred Years?War. But we revere her and, from 1431 onward, we wore gray smocks in honor of Joan, who wore one to her death. And if that had been the end of the story, all would be good. But there抯 more. Jan van Eyck betrayed us.?
He waited for her to explain.
揊or reasons known only to him, after helping us secure Joan抯 remains, he included a way to find them on the Ghent Altarpiece,?the mother superior said, 搘hich he was working on at the time. A map, if you will. Cleverly presented. Hidden. But there nonetheless. We became aware of that sometime in the late fifteenth century, but it never grew into a problem until 1934. That was when the Vatican first learned of the connection between the altarpiece and les Vautours. How? That抯 unknown, but we were able to steal the Just Judges before any detailed examination could be made.?
揟he maidens stole the Just Judges??
揥e did.?
揃ut there were other copies of the altarpiece,?he said. 揝everal, in fact, around Europe.?
揟hat抯 true, but none contained the detail of van Eyck抯 original. How could they? The dirt and grime on the panels was extensive, masking so much. Any artist trying to make a copy would be hampered. It was not until recently, when the latest restoration was performed, that all was revealed in its original glory. I抦 sure those copies were examined after 1934 by the Vatican, but they led nowhere.?
He was puzzled. 揟his is about the ashes of Joan of Arc??
揘o, Mr. Lee. It is about something far greater, something far more important. Something the Vatican and the maidens vehemently disagree upon.?
He抎 definitely stumbled into something significant. Maybe even extraordinary, involving far more than the willful destruction of a national art treasure. His job was to investigate, so that抯 what he planned to do.
A knock came to the door, which opened, and Sister Ellen entered. 揈xcuse me, Mother Superior, but the Vestal wants to speak with Mr. Lee.?
He accepted a cell phone.
揗y name is Claire,?the voice said in his ear. 揑 believe you were in my room last night.?
揑 was.?
揑 assume you抮e not going to go away??
揑 can抰。 Not now. But I抦 not the police. I抦 not the Vatican. My focus is protecting cultural heritage. Something was lost yesterday. Help me understand why, then maybe I can walk away.?
揑 have many issues to consider. Not the least of which is my friend, lying dead in the local morgue. Whose body, I am told, was disgracefully photographed by the Dominicans.?
揑抦 sorry about that.?
揥e need to free her from there,?Claire said.
An idea occurred to him. The images he possessed were no longer a bargaining chip. So if he was going to keep making progress with these women he had to gain their trust. The mother superior had started the ball rolling.
揥hat if I could get her body back??he asked.
揟hat would be most appreciated.?
She paused.
揑n many ways.?
Chapter 38
The village of Las Illas sat niched against the Pyr閚閑s, in a swath of mountainous terrain that lay at the fringe of what would one day be called France. The only road leading to it was lined with tamarisk, an occasional almond tree, and plenty of silver poplars whose white leaves shook against the blue sky. It had existed for over fifteen hundred years, once an important settlement, a place where Hannibal had encamped after crossing the Pyr閚閑s in 218 BC. Its small cathedral was classic Romanesque. A fortified church, built of solid masonry, with the narrowest of loopholes serving as windows. The town was one of the earliest Christian strongholds west of Rome and, up to AD 600, housed a bishop. By 1200, it had dropped to the status of a mere parish, its church inside cruelly denuded and gaunt, all of the silver and gold sold off long ago. One treasure, though, had been spared. It occupied a side chapel without windows, which cast it in shadow and made it hard to see.