‘I can see now why you two get on so well.’ Lorenza stood up, threw back her head in a huff, and hurried towards the kitchen.

  71

  Palazzo da Baggio, Venice: 28 June

  Looking at the tall, distinguished-looking elderly man in a black suit standing at the busy jetty where the water taxis came in to collect tourists who had just arrived in Venice, no-one would have guessed that he was the second most powerful man in the Vatican. And no-one would have suspected that the elegant man with the aristocratic bearing standing next to him, was the pope’s personal physician.

  Cardinal Borromeo looked at his watch and nodded. Perfect, he thought. We are right on time. For once, the plane from Rome hadn’t been delayed as so often happened. For a busy man with a diabolical schedule like the cardinal, every hour counted. And what he was about to do was of the greatest importance, demanding his personal attention. It wasn’t often that the Dean of the College of Cardinals travelled to see a young woman to ask for a favour. However, the gravity of the situation demanded such drastic action.

  The cardinal, a practical, hands-on man, didn’t believe in delegating something that concerned the pontiff’s life. He could easily have sent someone else high-up to attend to this, but that just wasn’t his way.

  Jack spotted the cardinal first and waved. ‘There they are,’ he said to da Baggio and pointed to the jetty. Da Baggio manoeuvred the boat expertly through the busy traffic and pulled up.

  For a man well into his seventies, the cardinal moved with surprising agility as he jumped on board and shook hands with Jack. ‘This is Professor Montessori,’ said the cardinal, as Jack introduced him to da Baggio.

  ‘Your illustrious family is certainly no stranger to the Church and church business,’ said the cardinal, standing next to da Baggio at the wheel. ‘However, you must be wondering what this is all about, but I can assure you, it is of the utmost importance.’

  ‘We are honoured, Eminence, and at your service,’ said da Baggio as he pointed the boat towards the Canal Grande and put on speed.

  Everyone in the palazzo had assembled in the salon and was waiting for the arrival of their eminent guest. All morning, the conversation had centred around guessing the reason for the cardinal’s surprise visit. Despite a lot of teasing and prompting, Jack’s lips had remained sealed.

  Lorenza heard the engine noise first as the boat pulled into the mooring downstairs. ‘Here they are,’ she said, her cheeks aglow with excitement. ‘How do I look?’ Lorenza turned to Tristan, sitting next to her, as she adjusted her hair for the third time and fiddled with the pendant around her neck.

  ‘Gorgeous as always,’ said Tristan and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Don’t fuss. Just be yourself.’

  The countess looked at Lorenza and gave her an encouraging smile.

  Everyone stood up as the cardinal and Montessori entered the room and da Baggio made the introductions. Used to being the centre of attention, the cardinal, obviously at ease, took control of the situation. He could sense the tension in the room and it wasn’t difficult for him to guess the reason behind it. He therefore decided to come straight to the point and explain the purpose of his visit.

  ‘I must apologise in advance for my haste,’ began the cardinal, speaking perfect English, ‘but I have to catch a plane back to Rome this afternoon. Therefore, there isn’t much time, and we have a lot to talk about.’ The cardinal paused, and looked around the room. He believed in the importance of first impressions. He had liked Lorenza and her father instantly, and was confident that his request, unusual as it may be, would be well received. Encouraged, he pressed on.

  ‘To begin with, I must ask you all to keep everything you are about to hear confidential because I’m going to share something quite extraordinary with you. You will appreciate the reason for this request in a moment.’

  The cardinal turned towards Lorenza. ‘I have come here to ask you, Signorina da Baggio, for a big favour. And that favour concerns none other than His Holiness, the pope.’ The cardinal paused to make a point.

  ‘Sadly, His Holiness is gravely ill. In fact, he’s close to death,’ continued the cardinal, the tone of his voice solemn. ‘A few weeks ago, the pontiff’s medical advisers made contact with Professor Delacroix in Sydney and asked for her help. They turned to her because certain research she is involved in at the moment could have a direct bearing on the pontiff’s illness, which has been very difficult to diagnose. This in turn has led to some unexpected developments. I think it would be better if you hear about that from Professor Montessori here, who has of course been closely involved with the pontiff’s illness and treatment from the very beginning.’ The cardinal turned towards Montessori and nodded.

  ‘As you can imagine,’ began Montessori, ‘medical issues like the one we are dealing with here can be very complex and difficult to explain. Therefore, I would like to keep this as simple as possible and focus on just a few key points that will throw some light on why we are here.

  ‘His Holiness is suffering from a rare and difficult to diagnose immune disease. The disease is destroying his red blood cells and platelets and destroying the lining of his large intestine. Unchecked, this will eventually be fatal. Various treatment options suggested by Professor Delacroix that may perhaps be available have been considered, but regrettably, due to the advanced nature of the disease and other complications, these options cannot be explored in the circumstances.

  ‘However,’ continued Montessori, ‘Professor Delacroix and her team at the Gordon Institute in Sydney have just discovered a new, previously unknown gene in the pope’s genome that may be the cause of the disease and could open up unexpected treatment possibilities—’

  ‘In a way that I can only describe as providence,’ interrupted the cardinal, ‘a possible cure may be hidden in something Mr Rogan has just recently discovered in the Vatican archives.’

  ‘Osman da Baggio’s annotated copy of al-Qanun,’ said Jack, stepping in.

  For a long, tense moment the room was silent as the implications of what had been suggested began to sink in.

  ‘As you know,’ continued Montessori, ‘several prominent doctors and scientists have been looking for this book for a long time now because they suspected it might contain valuable information about possible cures and ways to treat certain diseases – especially to do with the immune system, which is presently at the forefront of medical research around the world. Professor Delacroix, a Nobel laureate, certainly seems to believe that too. Mr Rogan, could you please elaborate?’

  ‘After we discovered the annotated book in the Vatican archives – hard to believe that was just over a week ago,’ began Jack, ‘Professor Delacroix was able for the first time to have a close look at the entire book in its original form. As I explained yesterday, the book contains Osman’s case notes he recorded in the margins. And that’s where Professor Delacroix discovered something extraordinary. One of the cases described by Osman was an accurate account of an autoimmune disease just like the one His Holiness appears to be suffering from.’

  Jack paused and glanced at the cardinal. He was trying to gauge whether to introduce something he had been thinking about all morning. Encouraged, he decided to go ahead.

  ‘Your Eminence may not be aware that all of this began with the recent discovery of a painting that used to hang right here behind me.’ Jack turned around and pointed to an empty space on the wall. The story behind the painting and of its discovery is extraordinary, but may have to wait for another time.’

  Relieved, the countess took a deep breath and tried in vain to suppress a smile.

  ‘The painting is currently in London, still being restored, but I have a picture of it right here.’

  Jack opened his iPad, retrieved the photo of the painting and handed the iPad to the cardinal.

  ‘The man in the painting is Osman da Baggio, and the book he is holding in his hand is none other than al-Qanun, the very book we found in the Vatican archives a few days ago. But just as interesting is the man in the bed, obviously a patient. We believe he is Cardinal Bettinelli, who later became pope and saved Osman from the ruthless clutches of the Inquisition. There is a great deal written about this case in Osman’s book and this is in fact the very case that has aroused so much interest in medical circles. Professor Delacroix believes that Cardinal Bettinelli was suffering from the same immune disease as His Holiness.’

  ‘Which Osman was able to cure?’ interjected the cardinal, shaking his head and handing the iPad to Montessori.

  ‘All the symptoms Osman describes in such detail strongly support this,’ continued Jack. ‘Professor Delacroix was first alerted to this by something she had discovered in Professor Kozakievicz’s notes. He had come across certain extracts from Osman’s annotations mentioned in later medical texts and was also looking for them for the same reasons. He too, suspected that they could contain valuable information about the immune system. Why? Because Osman claimed in the book to have successfully cured such a disease in a way that was quite unique and revolutionary, certainly at the time.’

  ‘How?’ asked da Baggio, following Jack’s account with interest.

  Jack looked at Lorenza. ‘Remember what I told you yesterday about the symbols in the margin of the book and on the back of the recipes?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lorenza, raising an eyebrow.

  Jack turned to the cardinal sitting next to him. ‘Your Eminence, the original recipes I mentioned to you on the phone yesterday are right here.’ Jack pointed to the wooden chest by the window. ‘I believe that’s the reason you are here?’

  ‘That’s correct,’ said the cardinal. ‘The possible cure Mr Rogan referred to just now and Professor Delacroix was also looking at, relates directly to certain recipes, which, I believe you have ...’

  ‘And we have now been able to link to the book through the symbols I mentioned yesterday,’ Jack said. ‘In fact, allow me to show you.’

  Jack stood up and walked across to the chest. ‘I took the liberty earlier this morning of going through the recipes and identifying the ones that specifically relate to the cure Osman claims to have discovered, and used so successfully on his famous patient in the painting. There are three of them.’

  Jack opened the chest, took out three of the recipes and held them up. ‘Here they are. The symbols here on the back match those shown in Osman’s case notes in the margins of his annotated book. He claims to have cured the disease through diet. More specifically, through Ottoman dishes; these right here.’

  ‘Is that possible?’ asked da Baggio.

  ‘According to Professor Delacroix, it is,’ said Montessori. ‘She’s of the view that expression of the newly discovered gene I mentioned before, which appears to have caused the disease, could be switched off by epigenetic modification of the genome. Without becoming too technical here, this could come about through the use of certain foods that could stimulate gut microbes to produce a particular short-term fatty acid – Butyric acid – also called Butyrate. Butyric acid inhibits histone deacetylases, a class of enzymes that remove acetyl groups form histones, around which DNA is wound. Organosulfur compounds from garlic, as well as the isothiocyanates sulforaphane from cruciferous vegetables such as cabbage, cauliflowers, Brussels sprouts—’

  The cardinal held up his hand. ‘Please, Professor, stop,’ he said, laughing. ‘If this is what you call not becoming too technical – I’m sure you’ve lost everyone in here. You certainly lost me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Montessori. ‘You are right, Eminence. What I’m trying to say is that certain foods could repress expression of this new gene in the gut and this may be possible through diet and certain special recipes. Dietary repression of this new gene might block the inflammatory bowel disease that is threatening His Holiness’s life.’

  Montessori paused and took a deep breath. ‘In short, it could represent a cure, or at least a way to manage the disease, which could give our medical team some precious time to explore other, more permanent treatment options ...’

  ‘Incredible! So, where to from here, Eminence?’ asked da Baggio.

  The cardinal turned to face Lorenza and looked at her intently. ‘I – no – the Church, has a request,’ began the cardinal, speaking quite softly. ‘Would you be prepared to come to Rome and cook for His Holiness? Replicate the recipes that appear to have cured one of his predecessors?’

  Speechless and quite stunned, Lorenza just stared at the cardinal as she tried to come to terms with what he had just asked of her.

  ‘But-but why me?’ she stammered. ‘Couldn’t one of the competent chefs at the Vatican do this just as well, perhaps even better than I? Especially as we now have the recipes?’

  The cardinal smiled. He had been expecting something like this.

  ‘No, it is you we need. Professor Montessori has just discussed this with Professor Delacroix before we left Rome this morning. Ottoman recipes like these here, are notoriously vague when it comes to precise measurements and even ingredients and cooking techniques. They are more like guidelines, leaving the final decisions up to the chef. This was done quite deliberately to protect the recipes. Osman would have had all of this in his head, just as he told the Inquisition.’

  ‘But how could I be of help here?’

  ‘Ah, because we believe you too have this in your head. As I understand it, cooking has been a long tradition in your family, handed down from generation to generation – right?’

  ‘Yes, but ...’

  ‘You see, according to Professor Delacroix, your interpretation of the recipes could well be the key here.’

  Makes sense, thought Lorenza, squeezing Tristan’s hand.

  ‘You can do it,’ he whispered and squeezed hers in reply.

  ‘My daughter and I would be honoured,’ said da Baggio, coming to Lorenza’s assistance.

  Lorenza nodded. ‘When would you like me to start, Eminence?’

  ‘I was hoping you would come back with us to Rome this afternoon and begin cooking tonight,’ replied the cardinal. ‘And I was also hoping that Mr Rogan would be able to accompany you. He has the best grasp by far of all the relevant historical documentary material we may have to consider here as well.’

  ‘Fine by me, Eminence,’ said Jack.

  ‘It’s all settled then,’ said da Baggio and stood up. ‘However, before you go, gentlemen, you must have lunch with us. Lorenza stayed up half the night preparing it for you ... everything is ready. Please follow me.’

  ‘With pleasure,’ said the cardinal and stood up too.

  The countess linked arms with Jack as they followed the others into the dining room. ‘See, in Italy, it’s all about food,’ she said, a sparkle in her eyes.

  ‘I got that,’ said Jack. ‘Lucky I haven’t unpacked.’

  72

  Papal Apartments, Vatican City: 29 June

  ‘I must have been out of my mind to agree to this, Jack,’ said Lorenza, carefully setting out the ingredients for her next dish on a wooden board, conscious that all the others working in the busy Vatican kitchen were watching her. Since their arrival the night before, and with the cardinal’s parting words – ‘You are His Holiness’s last hope’ – still ringing loudly in her ears, Lorenza had barely slept a wink as the enormity of the task she had so willingly undertaken began to dawn on her.

  Back home in the family palazzo it had all seemed so exciting, with the cardinal and the pope’s personal physician asking for her help. But now, standing in the Vatican kitchen where all the meals for the pontiff had been prepared for centuries, it was a different, daunting matter entirely.

  Jack was sitting on a stool facing Lorenza’s workbench and was recording everything: ingredients, precise quantities, cooking method ... As a keen amateur cook himself, he didn’t mind and watched Lorenza with interest.

  Alexandra had given Jack detailed instructions about this, as she was relying on the information to monitor and analyse what the pope was eating and what effect, if any, it would have on him. Because of that, accuracy was of the utmost importance.

  ‘Don’t worry, you’re doing just fine,’ said Jack.

  Lorenza put down her knife and looked at him. ‘Just fine? I am preparing a dish based on an ancient Ottoman recipe that I have to “interpret” to save the pope’s life, and all you can say is “I’m doing just fine”? This is crazy, Jack! What kind of pressure is that, eh? I don’t know what got into me!’

  ‘Calm down. I know it’s been a long day and a long night, and cooking something in a hurry so late yesterday wasn’t easy, but you are pulling it all together. Come on ...’ Jack got off his chair, walked over to Lorenza and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘We have to finish this. We can’t stop now. You know that.’ Jack picked up the knife and put it into Lorenza’s hand.

  ‘By the way, this really looks like a fabulous dish.’ Jack pointed to the recipe on the workbench next to Lorenza. It was a translation of the original, and the second recipe identified by Osman in the margin of his book next to the all-important case notes dealing with the immune disease.

  ‘Hunkar Begendi, “Sultan’s Delight” again,’ continued Jack. ‘You won Top Chef Europe with this dish, didn’t you?’

  Lorenza nodded.

  ‘A dish based on a secret recipe that once belonged to Suleiman the Magnificent, as I recall it,’ continued Jack, ‘which may save the pope. Amazing.’

  ‘A recipe young Osman brought with him from Constantinople when he escaped from the Topkapi Palace.’

  ‘How romantic.’

  ‘Yes, and one of my mother’s favourites,’ said Lorenza, becoming a little emotional. ‘It was one of the first dishes I remember cooking with my grandmother in our kitchen in Venice. Generations of da Baggios have prepared it there for centuries.’

  ‘Let’s hope it can weave its magic here.’

  Feeling better, Lorenza looked at Jack. ‘Then we better get on with it,’ she said and wiped away a few tears, ‘or we’ll never find out.’

 

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