“Well, sit down and enjoy, birthday boy!” Shawn said, guiding James gently by the elbow to a club chair and hassock situated just to the side of the fireplace. The light from both the fireplace and the candles made his chronically red cheeks look almost like bruises. “What is your preference? We have a terrific vintage Pétrus that’s been breathing for several hours or your usual favorite, single-malt scotch.”

“My word,” James repeated, taken aback. Such extravagance immediately caused him concern about a possible breakthrough with the ossuary. “Pétrus! This is a celebration!”

“You bet your life it is!” Shawn confirmed. “What will it be?”

“Pétrus is a rare pleasure, and provided I’m not taking it away from dinner, I would love a glass.”

“No problem, old friend,” Shawn said, scuttling off after Sana to the kitchen.

Suddenly becalmed after the tsunami of the welcome, James and Jack exchanged glances. “Thank you for coming,” James said pianissimo. “Although I really need to be here to start my campaign, I’m not sure I would have been able to force myself without your presence.”

“I’m actually pleased to be here,” Jack responded equally softly, even though with the music playing there would be little chance of being heard from the kitchen. “But I feel obligated to warn you that Shawn seems hell-bent on publishing this Virgin Mary story. I’ve tried to help as you asked me, but I’m feeling less and less optimistic that he’ll even consider not publishing, and for a kind of scary reason. Well, two scary reasons, one more so than the other.”

“What are they?” James demanded, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“I think he’s beginning to believe that there is a religious component involved. Several times he’s alluded to the possibility that he has been singled out by the powers that be to bring what he considers this enlightenment to the world at large.”

James’s eyes opened wide. “Are you saying that he’s beginning to believe he is acting as a kind of messenger of the Lord?” James exhaled through partially open lips. To him, such thinking smacked of blasphemy, if not mental illness. He’d seen it before with certain zealots, but he hardly considered Shawn a zealot. Either way, James did not consider it a positive sign, or even healthy. “What’s the other reason?”

“Just the one we’ve already mentioned, that he sees this whole affair as his crowning contribution to archaeology and firmly believes it is going to make him famous. That’s always been his number-one goal, and until now, he’d resigned himself to the fact that as an archaeologist he’d been born a hundred years too late to achieve such a status.”