[CHAPTER. 34 ] - ( THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA ) - { PT. 3 }

{ PT.  3 } Well done Paolo! Can't you trace their whereabouts?... Keep monitoring. He may switch it back on. In the meantime, text me this Frya woman's address, will you? As he ended the call, his men re-entered the reception area. Vincenzo shook his head. That's okay, said Don Primo. It looks like they're doing our job for us. I suspect they are on their way to Rome. Just as he finished speaking, his phone pinged. He smiled. And we have an address, where at the very least, we will get some answers. 

ANGELICA PLACED THE LAST delectable morsel of pastry into her mouth, enjoying the sweet hint of orange zinging its way to each taste bud and leaving her mouth as fragrant as an orange grove. She rummaged in her bag, pulled out her bag, pulled out a book and started reading. Christiano concentrated on the road ahead, twisting his head as if trying to release the tension in his neck. How long until we get there? She asked. It should be another two hours or so. I've heard about this place, she said. And what do you know of it, tell me? That it's filled with the most exceptional artwork. That there's a huge dome of mosaics filled with biblical illustrations dedicated to the Madonna. And did you know that the mosaics date from the thirteenth century and are the work of Pietro Cavallini? She shook her head. I can't wait to see it. What else can you tell me? Well, according to legend, at the moment of Christ's birth a well of oil sprang from the ground where the church now stands, and it flowed to the Tiber all day. Is that really  true? she asked with an unconvinced expression. Asks the woman who's carrying the next Messiah! She giggled. Point taken. The story certainly makes the church something of an enigma. And it keeps the tourists coming, he replied.                                                                                                   _________________________________________________________   

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