The Shroud Codex - Jerome R. Corsi [79]
“The way you are healing,” Castle told Bartholomew, “I can’t justify using costly hospital space to keep you here.”
“As far as I am concerned, you can check me out right now,” Father Bartholomew said, hoping Castle might listen. “I’m anxious to get back to my parish.”
“When I do agree to release you,” Castle continued, “it will be to the care of Archbishop Duncan and Father Morelli. I’m going to insist you stay with them at St. Patrick’s rectory, before I even consider releasing you to go back to work at St. Joseph’s. I’m not sure you’ve looked outside recently, but there are still a few hundred people standing out there holding candles and praying for you.”
“The archbishop’s residence is good for me,” Bartholomew said. “I will do as you say.”
Before he left, there was one thing Castle had to ask Bartholomew. It had been bothering him since yesterday and the conversation he and Anne had with Dr. Silver.
“Paul, I have to ask you something,” Castle said, sitting in the chair next to the bed.
“What’s that?”
“Your sister and I went to Princeton yesterday and we visited with Dr. Silver.”
“That must have been interesting,” Bartholomew said. He had no idea Castle and Anne had made the trip.
“Dr. Silver did his best to explain to us your work in physics, about how advanced particle physics says we live in a world of more than four dimensions.”
“Right,” Bartholomew said. “So what’s your question?
“Just this,” Castle said directly. “When you say you tripped in time and went back to Golgotha, what did you mean?”
“I meant just that,” Bartholomew said. “My experience is that I am back on Golgotha on the day Jesus died. Even more, I am experiencing myself as being Jesus. It’s like I am being scourged at the pillar and nailed to the cross.”
“But how could you or anybody else have any objective proof that you weren’t just going back to Golgotha in your mind?” Castle said. “Even your stigmata don’t prove to me that you were really at Golgotha. The same with the scourge injuries you suffered. You could have produced both sets of injuries through psychosomatic mechanisms.”
“Right now, I can’t prove it to you objectively,” Paul said.
“That sounds like you think there will be a time when you can prove it?”
“Yes, I believe that time will come.”
Castle probed. “What do you mean?”
“Just this,” Bartholomew said. “I think there is a reason I am Jesus.”
“Is that what Jesus has told you?”
“Yes,” Bartholomew said. “I know you believe I am imagining all this, but if I am right, you will continue to be intrigued by the Shroud. When you finally realize that you cannot prove the Shroud is a forgery, you will then be ready for an experience that will change your life. None of this is happening by accident, Dr. Castle.”
“What do you mean?”
“My destiny is not just to find my mother. It’s like I told you in our first therapy session in your office: my destiny is to unlock for the world the codex of the Shroud of Turin.”
“We will see, Paul,” Castle said, not convinced Paul wasn’t simply slipping further into his delusion. “We will see.”
Leaving the hospital, Castle called Father Morelli on his cell phone. “I’m checking Father Bartholomew out of the hospital. Can you be here later this afternoon to pick him up? I want him to stay with you at St. Patrick’s.”
“I can be there in an hour,” Morelli said.
“Good,” Castle said, “and I will want to see you both in my office early on Monday morning for a therapy session.”
“How early?”
“Make it eight o’clock. Father Bartholomew will be my first patient of the day.”
When Morelli agreed, Castle left the hospital, confident Father Bartholomew would be in good hands until Monday.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Saturday evening
New York City
Day 17
As Castle put on his tuxedo for the evening with Anne, he called the Waldorf room service and ordered up a chilled bottle of his favorite champagne and some of the hotel’s best caviar.
Arriving at Anne’s suite at 7 P.M., he was delighted to find her looking beautiful in the black