The Shroud Codex - Jerome R. Corsi [12]
Castle had never lost his enthusiasm for starting his days early and he knew from experience that if he could manage to keep his mind open, each day had the prospect of opening up to him a new and exciting level of knowledge. Confident that Father Bartholomew’s story would form the core of his new book, Castle looked forward to meeting the priest from the Vatican.
Wondering what Father Morelli would tell him about Father Bartholomew that Archbishop Duncan had intentionally left out, Castle walked confidently through his comfortable and elegantly appointed apartment to take the stairway down to his office on the floor below.
Decades ago, when he was dependent on his wife working as a legal secretary to help pay for his residency at Mass. General, Castle had never imagined he would one day have the resources to buy these two top floors of this exclusive Fifth Avenue address, in a prewar apartment building located right on Central Park across from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But his practice had grown until his patient list included some of the most prominent business leaders in New York and most powerful politicians in Washington. Castle could easily afford his pricey address. By picking a residential apartment building for his medical practice and getting the co-op board to allow him to locate his office in his home, Castle had managed to combine upscale New York living with a discreet location for his office.
Senators traveled from the nation’s capital to see him here, as did top investment bankers and CEOs from Wall Street. When coming for medical advice, the rich and the prominent could just as easily be visiting friends. Limousines were nothing out of the ordinary in this neighborhood. Yet, with its address and entrance on the cross street, this building was particularly appropriate for his psychiatric practice. Since visitors did not have to enter the building on Fifth Avenue, Castle’s patients could more easily stay out of view from the public and the press, even when their limousines dropped them off at Castle’s front door.
Castle loved his perch on the top two floors, complete with a penthouse roof garden that made a lovely setting for a catered late evening dinner in the summer. It was hard to beat the backdrop of Central Park with its changing beauty through every different season of the year—the lush green of the summer, the array of colors as the trees changed in the fall, the stark beauty of the bare trees in the winter, the promise of spring with the first light green as the trees budded anew. In the judgment of many New York social scene reporters, there was no better apartment in New York to hold a cocktail party for the rich and famous.
When he descended from his living quarters to his sumptuous office space on the floor below, Castle entered his massive, mahogany-lined library. His thousand volumes encompassed one of the world’s most impressive collections of psychiatric literature in private hands, including signed first editions by nearly every giant in the field. He was most pleased with his collection of Sigmund Freud first editions originally published in German and inscribed by the psychiatrist himself. The library opened onto his treatment room, which filled most of the floor.
Every detail of Castle’s treatment