"What's the point?" Anne asked.

"The point," Silver said, "is that you would have no way of knowing which reality was real. Maybe they are all real, simultaneously. Maybe you live in all of them at the same time. How would you ever tell the difference?"

Castle and Anne thanked Dr. Silver for being so generous with his time. The professor dismissed it, saying he hoped his comments helped. Silver's experience was that most laypeople left his office much more confused than when they arrived. He had long ago given up on being able to explain modern advanced physics to anyone but the most advanced graduate students.

On the ride back to New York, Anne and Castle were quiet for a long while.

"Dr. Castle, what do you think that was all about?" Anne finally asked.

"I'm not sure what I think," Castle answered, "but I'm sure your brother would have understood every word."

"It reminds me of something he said to me when we were alone in the hospital," Anne said.

"What's that?"

"At the time, I wasn't sure what Paul meant," she began slowly, wanting to be sure she explained this carefully, "but he said we were all stuck in time."

"Stuck in time?"

"Yes, that's what he said. And when I asked him what he meant, Paul said we live our lives like the future is ahead of us, unknown, and that the past is behind us, completely determined."

"Did Paul see it differently?"

"Yes," Anne said. "Paul said the truth is our destiny is determined for us when we are born. Our future draws us forward, much like a seed contains the mature tree. Paul said it's our past that's a fiction. We invent stories about who we were and where we came from to explain things that happen to us in life. Our memories are faulty and the stories we tell about ourselves change, often depending upon what is happening to us now. Maybe that's why he gave up physics."

"What do you mean?" Castle asked.

"Maybe Paul came to the conclusion that it was his destiny to find G.o.d, but that in physics he wasn't getting there. Then our mother died. Paul said at that moment he realized he wanted to be reunited with his mother. Maybe he decided G.o.d, not physics, was his doorway to the dimensions he needed to travel to get back together with his mother. That's why he decided to become a priest."

"Why exactly is that?" Castle asked.

"Maybe because Paul concluded he did have a vocation all along. That's what he told me. That he had been resisting G.o.d, thinking he could find G.o.d through an equation. When Mom died, he gave up and decided that accepting G.o.d in his heart was the only way to find G.o.d here on earth."

Castle reminded himself that Bartholomew had told him much the same thing, that finding G.o.d involved an experience, not an intellectual exercise.

"One thing about what Dr. Silver said bothers me," Anne said, with a concerned look on her face.

"What's that?" Castle asked.

"If Dr. Silver is right, how would we ever be sure anything happening here is the way we think it is happening?"

"I've dealt with that question for decades in psychiatry," Castle said. "Today was the first time I realized that physicists are asking the exact same question."

"Does anyone have an answer?" Anne wanted to know.

"I doubt it," Castle said with resignation. "I go about my job every day confident I see the world the way it truly is. But truthfully, I don't know."

"Wasn't that Dr. Silver's point?" Anne speculated.

"What's that?" Castle asked.

"When it comes to somebody as brilliant as my brother, maybe n.o.body can ever be sure what is real. That's what I think Dr. Silver was trying to tell us today."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Sat.u.r.day New York City Day 17 Castle began the weekend thinking about Anne. Sitting at his desk and sorting through his correspondence, he came across an invitation to attend a black-tie charity dinner that night at one of his favorite French restaurants. Castle had put the invitation aside, thinking he would figure out who to ask to be his date, but when Father Bartholomew's case took center stage, Castle forgot about social obligations, at least for the moment.

On impulse, he called Anne at the Waldorf.

"I know, it's spur of the moment," he said, "but why don't we go to this together tonight. It will be a great meal and the speeches will be mercifully short. If we get bored, we can skip out early."

"But I didn't bring any evening clothes with me," Anne said worriedly. "Otherwise I'd be flattered to be your date tonight. Living in Montreal, I love French cuisine."

"Evening clothes is a problem we can solve," Castle said, antic.i.p.ating he might get to spend the day with Anne. "You're just a few blocks from Saks and I can easily swing by with my limo. I don't very often get the chance to buy a fashionable evening gown for a beautiful woman."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Anne said, happy Castle couldn't see her blushing. "Give me a half hour and I'll be downstairs at the Towers entrance."

"You've got a deal," Castle said with enthusiasm, as he headed off to make sure he looked his best to impress the young woman who was rapidly capturing his eye.

At Saks, Castle found himself actually enjoying shopping, especially with Anne willing to flirt as she changed dresses, trying to make up her mind.

"Don't worry about the cost," Castle told her. "You're my guest tonight."

Anne selected what Castle thought was a particularly stunning full-length black strapless evening gown that came with a matching cashmere shawl designed to keep her shoulders warm. The Saks sales staff had no trouble finding the perfect Italian-made black shoes and just-right color of sheer Italian nylons to go with the outfit. As Anne twirled this way and that with the cashmere shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, Castle marveled at how perfectly her choice highlighted her blond hair and deep brown eyes.

On the way back to the Waldorf, Castle said, "I will come up to the suite to pick you up at seven tonight."

"I'll be ready," she said with antic.i.p.ation, thinking this day was already one of the best dates she had ever had.

With Anne safely back in the Waldorf, Castle took the limo to Beth Israel. He wanted to pay Father Bartholomew a professional visit.

At the hospital, Castle found Father Bartholomew resting alone and comfortably in what had become his private ICU room.

Castle read Bartholomew's chart and quickly examined his wounds. From all signs, Bartholomew was recovering rapidly, much as Castle had expected, despite the severity of wounds that should have killed even a healthy and strong young man, which Dr. Castle knew this priest truly was.

"The way you are healing," Castle told Bartholomew, "I can't justify using costly hospital s.p.a.ce 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.

Sat.u.r.day 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. P.M., he was delighted to find her looking beautiful in the black strapless evening gown, her hair done up perfectly. The hotel's beauty parlor was top-notch.

"The champagne and caviar are a nice surprise," Anne said, welcoming him into the living room of the suite.

"This way I thought we could miss the c.o.c.ktail hour at the restaurant," Castle said with a smile. "I'd much rather spend the time talking with you."

He enjoyed the pleasure with which Anne sipped the champagne and tasted the caviar. "You're going to spoil me living like this," she said, unafraid to show much she was enjoying the moment.

"I hope so," Castle said, raising a gla.s.s in a toast. "Here's to many more evenings together."

The limo ride to the French restaurant was nice and short.

Once inside the restaurant, Dr. Castle introduced Anne to several of his friends before they were shown to a relatively private side table, a banquette facing into the room.

"I hope you don't mind," Castle said, "but while attending these charity events is sometimes a social necessity, I still prefer to dine as privately as possible."

"Fine with me," Anne said, relieved she was not going to be thrown into a long evening of conversation with people she didn't know.

"Meeting you has been the silver lining in my taking on your brother as a client," Castle told Anne as they proceeded through the first course accompanied by a delicious French white wine Castle had perfectly selected.

"It's been doubly important for me," Anne added. "I'm thrilled to be reunited with my brother."

"Is your brother the person you expected to find?" he asked.

"In a way, yes," Anne answered. "Reading about my brother on the Internet, I realized how devoted he was both to his career in physics and to our mother. Now meeting him, I believe he is a very driven person. I have to admit I don't understand all his concerns, but the conversation with Dr. Silver in Princeton yesterday helped."

"What do you mean?"

"It's hard to explain, but all my life I have had the sense that I too am somehow suspended in time. After my father died, it was like I reconnected with a hidden life I never knew I had, not until I found those divorce papers. Now, in meeting Paul at the hospital, it somehow doesn't feel like we were ever separated. When I first saw him lying there unconscious, I panicked, worried that he might slip away before we had a chance to connect. When we were alone, I held his hand and I felt we were the same flesh. I understood him without him having to say very much. I'm sure I would have loved Mom and I'm sorry I never had the chance to meet her."

Castle listened carefully, moved at how much Anne cared for her brother.

"Do you really think all this is being caused by psychological problems my brother is going through?" Anne asked.

"That's what I'm trained to think," Castle said. "Still, the discussion with Father Middagh and Father Morelli about the Shroud has presented me with a lot of information I never considered before. I remain convinced the carbon-14 testing is likely to be correct and that means the Shroud has to be a forgery. The story about the carbon-14 sample being contaminated is a little bit too convenient for me. Still, I have to admit, the image of the man in the Shroud has begun to haunt me."

"It haunts me, too," Anne said, "especially when Paul has come to look so much like the man of the Shroud."