One morning, some two years after these events had passed, a small sleek haired man wearing spectacles and sober clerical garb, sat alone in a cool room, at a highly polished desk, looking out over an extensive vista of gardens and trees ending in a view of hillsides which in the right light could appear purple. This of course was His Eminence Cardinal Xavier Ximenes, known familiarly as Doublecross, not, we must hasten to add, because he was of a notably treacherous disposition, but because he liked to joke that as a Prince of the Church he bore the weight of both sacred and secular concerns and it was reflected in the initials with which he annotated documents.
As his fingers slowly played with his prized family heirloom of an antique fountain pen, so much more impressive than the goose feather quills used by his secretaries and other scriveners, his mind and gaze turned from the view over his palatial gardens where his servants toiled amid the splashing and tinkling of carefully contrived fountains, to the three documents in front of him. One was the notorious ancient magazine or ‘Unholy Book’. The second was as detailed an analysis and commentary upon it as the troubled Father Mendoza had been able to compile. The third was his own note on the matter. He had determined that all three should be kept together in a locked leather briefcase in a secret archive, and he hoped that none of them would again see the light of day until long after he and all those involved were dead, if ever. He could have destroyed the magazine as almost every other remnant of this remote past had been destroyed, but had decided not to do so for a variety of reasons.