“Why should that bother you?”

“Well, as we saw with his Bacchus, The Sculptor is well aware of the baggage the contemporary context of his Pietà would carry along with it-that is, how our knowledge of where the pieces came from would affect our perception of it. As we learned with Bacchus-where we, the viewer, see both the mythology of the Roman god and the satyr wound up into the lives of Tommy Campbell and Michael Wenick-when we look at The Sculptor’s Pietà, we see the story of the Virgin and Christ, but we also see the stories of the prostitutes-the lascivious desires of their lives. Our minds see the contradiction of the holy and the impure all at once.”

“So you think the message in this case is ultimately one of blasphemy?”

“I don’t know, but I just can’t help thinking there’s something I’m missing-something that connects your chapter in Slumbering in the Stone to The Sculptor’s use of prostitutes for his Pietà-something that goes beyond just the convenience of readily available material.”

“He didn’t only use prostitutes,” Cathy said blandly.

“I’m sorry, Cathy. I know that. But-and you’ll have to forgive me-but I’m thinking it goes beyond the victims’ professions, if you will, to the concept of sin, of sexual impurity. In The Sculptor’s eyes, you see, all of the victims he used for his Pietà were sinners with regard to sex-which brings me to something else you wrote when you spoke of Michelangelo’s influences for his Pietà. You say, ‘Another possible explanation as to why Michelangelo chose to portray his Virgin as a young mother is that he was heavily influenced by Dante’s Divine Comedy. We know that the artist was not only an admirer, but also a scholar of Dante’s work, and therefore must have been familiar with Saint Bernard’s prayer in Canto 33 of Paradiso, which begins, “Virgin mother, daughter of your son.” Here we see the relationship of the Virgin and her Son played out against the inherent contradiction of the Holy Trinity, wherein God exists in three forms: the Father, the Son (God incarnate as Jesus Christ), and the Holy Spirit. Thus, when taken in this undeniably “incestuous” context, if God is both the Father and Son, then the Virgin Mary is both Christ’s mother and His daughter, as well as his wife. One can then argue that Michelangelo is embodying this contradicting but parallel trinity in terms of the figures’ similar ages-a contradiction wherein the father-daughter/ mother-son/husband-wife relationship is skewed, existing in a spiritual realm outside of time, wherein physical age is only a “relative,” earthly index.’”

“So you think then that the Pietà might represent to The Sculptor some kind of warped, confused relationship between a mother and son?”

“I don’t know, Cathy,” Markham sighed. “Maybe I’m just overtired. Maybe I’m looking too deeply into it all. But when you think about how much trouble The Sculptor went through to get the Gambardelli Pietà, it might indicate that we were wrong about its relationship to his victims. Don’t misunderstand me, Cathy. I still think the killer wanted the marble of the statue to connect his victims to his sculptures. And although that plan might have changed, might have evolved into something else when he began focusing on his Bacchus, we now know that we were correct in our theory that The Sculptor had experimented with women before he moved on to males and full figures. However, even though The Sculptor wanted to use a male for the body of his Virgin to get the proportions and the breast placement correct, as well as to embody Michelangelo’s point of view on the female figure in general, I just can’t ignore the differences between how The Michelangelo Killer constructed his Pietà and his Bacchus. When you look at the fact that he used three separate human entities for the Virgin herself, and when you take into account that you discuss in your chapter on the Pietà the relationship between the Virgin and Christ as a contradicting yet parallel trinity to the traditional Christian Holy Trinity-well, it’s a bizarre coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“Never mind all the metaphorical and moral implications that go along with such a reading of this parallel, incestuous, impure trinity.”

“Is that why we’re going to see the Reverend Bonetti again today?”

“Yes,” said Sam Markham. “I honestly haven’t a clue exactly what or why, but something tells me that there’s more to The Sculptor’s theft of the Gambardelli Pietà than we first realized.”

Chapter 40

The Reverend Robert Bonetti watched them from his office window-had requested on the telephone that they enter at the back of the church so as not to disturb his parishioners, who would be coming and going all day for confession. When he saw them emerge from the Trailblazer, at first the old priest did not recognize the blond woman with the sunglasses who accompanied the FBI agent named Markham. Only when they passed outside his window did Father Bonetti realize the pretty art history professor from Brown University had finally decided to come out of hiding.

Although Reverend Bonetti rarely watched television or sat in front of a computer screen, and although he preferred to read or watch his tiny collection of old black-and-white movies on the rectory’s ancient VCR, even he knew what had happened to Catherine Hildebrant-to her ex-husband, yes, but also to her. Bonetti knew that the media was claiming it was her book, Slumbering in the Stone, that had inspired The Michelangelo Killer to commit his atrocities; he knew that, since the death of her husband, she had withdrawn from the public eye-probably had gone into protective custody, the papers said. Oh yes, he had read the news stories, had seen Hildebrant’s picture many times on Meghan O’Neill’s Special Report: The Michelangelo Killer series on Channel 9. And now there were the rumors that the first statue-the one with the football player and that poor little boy from Cranston -had originally been dedicated to her, too.

When he heard the outside door slam, Father Bonetti’s heart went out to Catherine Hildebrant as it had so many times over the last couple of weeks. But he needed to move quickly, and just as the knock came at his office door, the old priest slipped the copy of Slumbering in the Stone that he had picked up a week earlier into his desk drawer.

“Come in.”

Cathy entered first, followed by Markham.

“Dr. Hildebrant,” said Reverend Bonetti, offering his hand. “Despite the circumstances, it truly is a pleasure to see you again. I won’t pretend that I don’t know what’s happened to you over the last few weeks. But let me first offer my condolences for your loss, and second, my support in this difficult time. If there’s anything I can do, you’ll tell me?”

“Thank you, Father.”

Another round of pleasantries, and the three of them took their seats around Father Bonetti’s desk.

“Now,” said the priest. “To what do I owe this return visit?”

“I’d like to ask you a few more questions, Father,” said Markham. “Specifically with regard to your Gambardelli Pietà.”

“I’m not sure what else I can tell you. I’ve seen the police photos, the composite sketches of your man. There’s no one I know who fits that bill, and certainly no one that could afford twenty-five thousand dollars for a statue.”

“I understand that, Father. But I was hoping you could perhaps tell us a little more about the statue itself. You said that there was originally a picture of it on your Web site?”

“Yes. It was a photograph of the votive chapel-the one off the main church that I showed you-the one that currently houses our replacement Pietà.”

“Was there anything on the Web site, however-a caption or an accompanying description-that identified the statue specifically as a Gambardelli Pietà?”