Free Midnight in Madrid by Noel Hynd Page A

with the monastery came early artwork, much of it from the islands of Sardinia, Corsica, and Malta. Much of this was plundered or destroyed during the fifth century AD when the Roman Empire disintegrated under the press of barbarian invasions from the east, and Vandals finally sacked the city.”
    Alex looked up and watched Rivera. He was still speaking without notes.
    “In an effort once to confirm this pietà’s origin,” Rivera continued, “the limestone was analyzed by computer in 1975. The samples matched a limestone found in Malta. The specific site has never been identified as it no longer exists. But there is no doubt that the limestone was from Malta. Hence the name, The Pietà of Malta . There is even to this day, I might add, a small town on the island of Malta that goes by the name Pietà.”
    He moved toward conclusion.
    “Allow me one or two other historical notes. The strategic importance of Malta was recognized by the Phoenicians, who occupied it, as did in turn the Greeks, Carthaginians, and Romans. The apostle Paul was shipwrecked there in AD 60. With the division of the Roman Empire in AD 395, Malta was assigned to the eastern portion of the empire dominated by Constantinople.
    “Throughout history,” he continued, “small Christian carvings and relics such as this one were collected and enshrined. It was believed that the holiness of the art would evoke a power to heal and or to intercede for the faithful owner. Similarly, if such an item had actually been in the possession of a saint, its aura and powers would have been enhanced by the contact with the saint’s spirit. The fact that this faith was later exploited for money does not alter its basic character. The practice forms an interesting comment on the inherent longing for physical contact, even if once removed, with great men or spiritual leaders. Even into the present day, millions of people will place immense value on such objects.”
    A pause and he continued.
    “Now look very carefully at the base of the carving. Much of the original engraving has been lost over the years.” Rivera was indicating the area that Alex had already noticed, one that looked like ancient writing, but not European.
    “What you will see,” he said, “is ancient Arabic calligraphy. It combines the Arabic word for peace and a depiction of a dove. As you all know, in Judaism and Christianity, a white dove is generally a sign for peace. The Torah tells us that Noah released a dove after the flood in order to find land. The dove came back, an olive branch in its beak, telling Noah that the waters had receded and there was land once again. The same image holds through in the modern and ancient Islamic languages. The motif can also represent ‘hope for peace’ and even a peace offering from one man to another. The dove is represented here with wings spread, still in flight, a reminder of its role as messenger as well as the unfulfilled promise. The dove is, of course, in art also the traditional representation of the Holy Spirit, frequently seen hovering above Christ’s head when He is baptized by John the Baptist.”
    Alex flicked her gaze around the room. All of the attendees appeared focused on Rivera’s minilecture, except possibly Floyd Connelly of US Customs, the Orson Welles look-alike, who seemed to be jetlagged. His eyelids were drooping and he had obviously tuned out, even though Rivera kept glancing at him.
    “Now, it has been suggested, for centuries, that The Pietà of Malta has had magical powers,” Rivera continued. “According to legend, whoever was in possession or guardian of it, could not suffer a mortal death. Similarly, those who possessed it—nations, armies, civilizations—would never be vanquished. Hitler for example was obsessed with this object and personally snatched it in Rome in 1943 after Mussolini’s overthrow. At the close of World War II, American soldiers under Patton ‘rescued’ it from Hitler’s chalet on the