The Last Cato Read Online Free

that you have thought of me for such an important matter, but I’m afraid I cannot carry it out.” I softened my words even more before continuing. “Not just because it is impossible for me to leave the work I’m in the middle of right now, which takes up all my time, but because I lack the basic knowledge to handle the databases in the Classified Archives. Also, I’d need the help of an anthropologist to be able to focus on the more prominent aspects of the investigation. What I mean, Eminences, is I don’t think I can do what you ask.”
    Monsignor Tournier was the only one who showed any signs of life when I finished. While the rest were in shock, Tournier’s sarcastic grin made me suspect he had opposed my assignment to the case from the very beginning. I could hear him saying contemptuously, “A woman….” His sly, mordant attitude made me do a one-eighty.
    “However, after more thought, perhaps I could take a look, as long as you gave me enough time.”
    Monsignor Tournier’s mocking expression vanished as if by magic while the tense expressions of the rest relaxed, sighing with great relief and satisfaction. One of my biggest sins is pride, I admit—pride in all its variations of arrogance, vanity, haughtiness. I will never repent enough nor do enough penance, and I am incapable of rejecting a challenge or getting cold feet when any doubt is cast on my intelligence or my knowledge.
    “Splendid!” exclaimed His Eminence, the secretary of state, slapping his knee. “Then there’s nothing more to talk about. Problem solved, thanks be to God! Very well, Sister Ottavia. From this moment on, Captain Glauser-Röist will be at your side to collaborate on anything you might need. Each morning, when you begin your work, he will give you the photographs. You will return them to him when you’re finished at the end of each day. Any questions before you get started?”
    “Yes,” I replied, puzzled. “Will the captain be allowed to enter the restricted area of the Classified Archives? It’s not a secular area, and…”
    “Of course he will, Doctor!” Prefect Ramondino affirmed. “I will see to it myself. I’ll have his pass ready by this very afternoon.”
    A little toy soldier (for what else is a Swiss Guard?) was about to put an end to a venerable and secular tradition.
    I had lunch at the cafeteria in the Archives and spent the rest of the afternoon packing up everything on the desk in my lab. Postponing my study of the Panegyrikon irritated me more than I could admit, but I’d fallen into my own trap. I couldn’t get out of a direct order from Cardinal Sodano. Besides, I was intrigued and felt a tickle of perverse curiosity.
    When everything was in perfect order and my office was ready for the new task that began the next morning, I gathered my belongings and left. Crossing the Bernini Colonnade, I left by way of the Via di Porta Angelica and walked distractedly by numerous souvenir stores filled with the crowds of tourists that had flooded Rome for the great jubilee. I clutched my purse and picked up my pace. Although the pickpockets of the Borgo more or less recognized those of us who worked in the Vatican, since the Holy Year had begun—the first ten days of January, when three million visitors flood the city—pickpockets from all over Italy had swelled their numbers, the result of which made me as alert as ever. The afternoon light streamed slowly in from the west, and I— who’d always had a certain aversion to such light—couldn’t wait to curl up at home. I was almost there. Luckily, the head of my order had decided that having one of its nuns in such an outstanding position as mine merited the purchase of a furnished apartment near the Vatican. So, three sisters and I had been the first to live in a tiny apartment located in the Piazza delle Vaschette. It overlooked the baroque fountain, which long ago flowed with the angelic water known for its great curative powers for gastric