The Shroud Codex - Jerome R. Corsi [43]
“Where’s Bartholomew now?”
“We just carried him off the main altar. We’re in the sacristy.”
“Okay, stay with him. I’ll be right there.”
There was no time for Castle to call his driver and limo. Hailing a cab would be a lot quicker. With any luck, if he left immediately, he would be at the church before the ambulance arrived.
Running out of the apartment, he grabbed his medical bag. He had called downstairs to the doorman and by the time the elevator landed him on the ground floor, the taxi was waiting for him.
Driving the few blocks to St. Joseph’s, Castle called the emergency room at Beth Israel and ordered them to be ready to receive a priest who was likely to be in a coma after suffering a seizure. He wouldn’t know if the priest had suffered a stroke or heart attack until he got to the church in what he estimated would take less than five minutes.
Pushing through the crowd outside the church, Castle made his way to the sacristy. Father Bartholomew was lying on the floor, unconscious.
“Can you tell me how Father Bartholomew collapsed?” Castle asked, opening his bag to get his stethoscope.
“I didn’t see how it happened,” Morelli answered. “The nuns called me after Father Bartholomew had already collapsed. Evidently Bartholomew was hearing confessions and he had some kind of seizure. He came out of the confessional holding his heart and he fell unconsciously to the floor right outside the confessional. The nuns carried him to the altar. When I arrived, the nuns helped me move Father Bartholomew here, into the sacristy, where we could get him away from the people in the church.”
Just then the paramedics arrived and took over.
“His pulse is weak,” Castle said, “and I’m having trouble getting a read on his blood pressure. He’s likely going into shock.”
Quickly the paramedics lifted Bartholomew to the stretcher.
“I’m riding with you,” Castle said, showing the paramedics his identification. “He’s my patient.”
The paramedics agreed, but they moved to block Morelli from getting into the back of the ambulance.
“This priest works for the Vatican,” Castle intervened. “He needs to ride in the ambulance with us.”
The paramedics looked like they were going to object, but in the rush they decided it was easier just to agree. Giving Morelli a hand, they lifted him into the ambulance and closed the doors.
“Head directly to Beth Israel,” Castle directed. “I’m on staff there and I’ve already called ahead.”
Once they were safely in the ambulance and the door was closed, the driver did his best to rush down Lexington Avenue with the siren blaring and the lights flashing. Within a block, a police cruiser joined them and led the way. Fortunately, it was almost 8 P.M. on a Sunday evening and the midtown traffic was relatively light. The ambulance and its police escort made quick progress toward Union Square.
Inside the ambulance, the paramedics and Dr. Castle were doing their best to stabilize the priest. Castle took a hypodermic from his medical bag and injected Father Bartholomew with a stiff dose of tranquilizer.
But instead of the tranquilizer causing Father Bartholomew to rest quietly, the priest began twisting violently. Castle wondered what could possibly be going on in the priest’s mind to cause this apparent seizure. Was this an allergic reaction to the tranquilizer, or was it something else?
The paramedic riding in the back with them tightened the straps on the stretcher to hold the priest down. There was nothing in Bartholomew’s medical history to suggest he was an epileptic, but Castle almost instinctively checked to make sure the priest was not swallowing his tongue. Still, Castle was concerned to see Bartholomew’s eyelids begin fluttering. Then, suddenly his eyes opened and he began looking here and there, his eyes darting with the type of rapid eye movement associated with sleep disorders. What is going on? Castle wondered. Is Father Bartholomew hallucinating? Next, the priest screamed out a string of incomprehensible words and his face contorted in fear.