Leonardo’s Puzzle

Dan slid down the cliff face, its white face gleaming eerily under the strong moonlight. His leaping, stumbling, free fall down the nearly vertical stretch of rock ended with a thud as his feet dug into the beach sand at the bottom. Although the fall knocked the wind out of him, he forced himself to roll underneath the nearest outcropping of stone, hidden from view from above. Dan listened intently for the sounds of his pursuers. He could barely hear the shouts of the men over the crash of the waves on the beach and the thunderous beating of his heart. He reached inside his jacket to make sure the ancient parchment was still tucked inside, that he had not lost it in his tumble down to the beach. They searched the forest around the indescribably old, tiny church for another thirty minutes, deciding that no one would have been crazy enough to try and climb down the sheer cliff, that Dan must have eluded them somehow between the trees. He waits another thirty minutes after he hears them leave just to be sure, then stood up and limped down the beach.

Dan knocked on the door of the elegant chateau until the lovely Monique de Saint Marc answered, wearing only a red silk nightgown.

“Monsieur Gallagher, what are you doing here this time of night?” Monique asked. Dan didn’t have the energy to answer, and could only collapse in her doorway.

When his consciousness returned, he was lying on her couch. The beautiful French religious historian was kneeling by his side. She had removed his trench coat and was cleaning the numerous cuts and scrapes caused by his tumble down the cliff.

“Monsieur Gallagher, I am glad you are awake. Whatever has happened to you. You look terrible!” She stood up and grabbed another clean towel from the table at the end of the couch.

“I found it Monique! Right where the diary said it would be!” Dan sat up quickly, then slumped back on the couch with a groan.

“Monsieur Gallagher you cannot be serious.” Monique knelt down again and continued to dab at his wounds with the clean cloth. Dan winced as she hit a particularly painful cut on the side of his square, sturdy jaw. He grabbed her wrist gently and stopped her ministrations, gazing into her eyes. “Where’s my coat?” She pointed behind him, and he turned to grab it from where it was draped over the edge of the couch. He opened the trench coat up and withdrew the ancient scroll. Opening it up in his lap, they both gazed at the abstract sketch of what appeared to be a man and woman holding each other. “It was right where we thought it was, underneath the baptismal in the church. It’s the next piece of the puzzle.” Monique gazed in wonderment at Dan’s discovery, until he took her chin and slowly raised her head until they were gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. “We can find the resting place of the Holy Grail, Monique” he whispered.