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Angelology(153)

By:Danielle Trussoni


their mission, and—Verlaine noted with particular triumph—discussed the drawing that Mrs.

Rockefeller must have included in the letter: “Our most admired friend, one cannot fail to marvel at

your delicate renderings or receive them with humble thanks and grateful understanding.” The

tone of the letter hinted that an arrangement had developed between the two women, although there

was nothing concrete to be found, and certainly nothing to suggest that a plan had been arrived at. The

fourth letter contained another of the references to something artistic: “As always, your hand never

fails to express what the eye most wishes to behold.”

Verlaine began to explain his theory of Mrs. Rockefeller’s artwork, but Gabriella urged him to

read on, clearly annoyed that he would stop. “Read the final letter,” she said. “The one dated

December fifteenth, I943.”

Verlaine sifted through the pages until he found the letter.

December 15, 1943

Dearest Mrs. Rockefeller,

Your latest letter arrived at an opportune moment, as we have been laboring at our annual

Christmas celebrations and are now fully prepared to commemorate our Lord’s birth. The

sisters’ annual fund-raiser has been a greater success than expected, and I daresay that we

will continue to draw many donations. Your assistance is also a source of great joy to us. We

give thanks to the Lord for your generosity and remember you in our hourly prayers. Your

name will long remain upon the lips of the sisters at St. Rose.

The charity benefit described in your letter of November has been met with great approval

by all at St. Rose Convent, and I hope it will make quite a difference to our efforts to bring in

new membership. After the travails and hardships of our recent battles, the great privations

and declines of the past years, we nonetheless see a greater brightness emerging.

While a discerning eye is like the music of the angels—precise and measured and

mysterious beyond reason—its power rests in the cast of light. Dearest benefactress, we know

you chose your renderings wisely. We eagerly await further illumination and ask that you

write in due haste, so that news of your work will lift our spirits.

Your fellow seeker,

Innocenta Maria Magdalena Fiori, ASA

As he read the fifth letter, a particular phrase caught Gabriella’s attention. She asked Verlaine to

stop and repeat it. He backtracked and read, “‘. . . a discerning eye is like the music of the angels—

precise and measured and mysterious beyond reason—its power rests in the cast of light.’”

He placed the stack of yellowed papers upon his lap. “Did you hear anything of interest?” he

asked, anxious to test his theory about the passages.

Gabriella appeared lost in thought, gazing past him, staring out the window, her chin resting on her

hand. “It is half there,” she said at last.

“Half?” Verlaine said. “Half of what?”

“Half of our mystery,” Gabriella said. “Mother Innocenta’s letters confirm something I have long

suspected—namely, that the women were working together. I will need to read the other half of this

correspondence to be certain,” she went on. “But I believe that Innocenta and Mrs. Rockefeller were

choosing locations. Even months before Celestine brought the instrument from Pans—even months

before it was retrieved from the Rhodopes—they were planning the best way to keep it safe. It is a

blessing that Innocenta and Abigail Rockefeller had the intelligence and foresight to find a secure

location. Now we need only to understand their methods. We need to find the location of the lyre.”

Verlaine raised an eyebrow. “Is that possible?”

“I will not be certain until I read Abigail Rockefeller’s letters to Innocenta. Clearly Innocenta was

a brilliant angelologist, much smarter than she’s given credit for. All along she was urging Abigail

Rockefeller to secure the future of angelology. The instruments were placed into Mrs. Rockefeller’s

care only after great forethought.” Gabriella walked the length of the room, as if movement ordered

her thoughts. Then she stopped short. “It must be here in New York City.”

“You are certain?” Verlaine asked.

“There is no way to know for sure, but I believe it is here. Abigail Rockefeller would have wanted

to keep an eye on it.”

“You must see something in the letters that I can’t,” Verlaine said. “To me they’re just a collection

of friendly exchanges between two old women. The only potentially interesting element about the

letters is referred to time and time again but isn’t actually there.”