The 24th Letter

SEVENTY-SIX

Gibraltar moved. “We have company,” said O’Brien.

Dave looked at his watch. “It’s Nick, we’re supposed to be heading down to the tiki hut about now for dinner.”

Nick Cronus entered the salon. He grinned, the thick moustache rising like a cartoon drawing on his face. “Sean, what happen to you, man?”

“Long story. The short side is, to save a life of a man on death row, you have to step around or over people who don’t want that life saved.”

Nick snorted, popped the knuckles in his calloused hands. “Man, you got to call me before you get yourself in those situations.”

“Believe, me, Nick. I had no idea I’d wind up in a sport boxing ring where the sport ends in death.”

“What? Like hell, man. What happened?”

“I’ll tell you when I have more time. Dave just showed me a picture of a very old painting. The artist was a guy named Bosch. He painted a lot of art depicting the forces of good and evil. Look at this.”

Nick stepped over to the computer. O’Brien said, “This is one of his paintings. It’s called St. John on Patmos. What do you know about this Greek island?”

Nick studied the painting and said, “It is a holy island. A big monastery is there. Many people in Greece go there at least once in their lives. It is where Saint John was exiled. He survived with the help of God. He lived in a cave, lived there for almost two years, man. Listening to God and foretelling the apocalypse…Armageddon.”

“The Book of Revelation?” asked Dave.

“Yeah, man. He was chosen by God to tell it like it is, you know. You screw up…I mean screw up a lot and you don’t enter the kingdom of God. Good triumphs over bad. The place where the Saint lived, in Greece, we call it the Holy Grotto.”

Dave looked at the painting. “Bosch was apparently influenced by all of this. I was trying to figure out the reason Father Callahan drew the Greek letter Omega, too.” Dave hit a few keys and another painting appeared. “This Bosch painting is called Temptation of Saint Anthony. Let me pull up an isolated section, see right there.”

O’Brien and Nick leaned in closer. “Yeah, man,” said Nick. “It’s there, Omega.”

“This,” said Dave, “look carefully above the piece of cloth he painted over here, next to the fellow in the top hat. Above it you can see a shackle, a spot where a prisoner could have been chained…and right there is the perfect depiction of the letter Omega.” Dave typed in another key and another painting appeared. “This Bosch painting is called Ship of Fools. Some in the art world theorize the flapping sail off the mast, if you look at in a horizontal position…” Dave touched a key and flipped the painting into a horizontal perspective. He continued, “Now you can see the sail makes a perfect Omega.”

Nick chuckled. “This dude, Bosch, looks like he ate too much of his paint.”

O’Brien said, “It looks like he left it up to the viewer’s interpretation.”

“Exactly,” said Dave. “Bosch was an allegorical painter. He dropped all kinds of symbols, things that might depict hidden meanings, maybe not. He straddled the art border somewhere between medieval and renaissance, and he straddled the lines between the age-old conflict of good and evil. Salvador Dali was influenced by Bosch.”

“And it appears that Father Callahan was too,” said O’Brien. “But why? What is the significance of the Omega sign, the Bosch painting of Saint John and the six-six-six?”

Nick squinted at the painting. “This Bosch guy, he liked to paint a lot of naked people running all around. I’m getting a headache just trying to look at it. Let’s eat!”

Dave grinned. “At dinner we want to hear what happened in Miami Beach. And I’ll tell you more of what I’ve learned about Omega.”