Belgium is a wonderful place to visit. The Dame Blanche (White Lady) that Cotton speaks about in chapter 1 is a mainstay in every café. These are sundaes extraordinaire, made even more delicious by a liberal use of fine Belgian chocolate and real whipped cream. Each establishment sells its own version, and I must confess to enjoying more than a few.
Religious relics have a checkered and troubled past (chapter 9). A belief in something larger than life has perpetually seemed a human necessity. We also have an insatiable urge to preserve what we believe, regardless of authenticity. An excellent example is the infant Jesus’ foreskin. Supposedly it was placed within an oil-filled, alabaster box following circumcision. It first appeared in the 9th century, said to have been gifted to Charlemagne himself by an angel. Eventually it ended up in the Basilica of St. John the Lateran in Rome. Stolen in 1527 by invaders, it reappeared in nearly twenty different places over the next four hundred years, stolen for the last time in 1984. Millions venerated it. Churches exploited it for untold revenue. Never mind that it rang contrary to the doctrine that Christ ascended to heaven intact.
The same is true of the Arma Christi, something else of long standing within Christendom. Not one, but a collection of relics of the passions of Christ, many depicted in countless religious paintings and art. An excellent treatise on the subject is The Arma Christi in Medieval and Early Modern Material Culture, edited by Lisa Cooper and Andrea Denny-Brown. Of course, no one knows which of the many objects, scattered around the world, are the true Arma Christi. Unlike in the novel, there is no official list from the Vatican. I randomly chose seven (chapter 9) from the many eligible for my weapons of Christ. But the story of the Empress Helena, and how the veneration of relics began, related in chapter 9, is true.
The European Interceptor Site was first proposed by George W. Bush and ultimately canceled by Barack Obama. The idea (as detailed in chapter 9) was to land-base interceptor missiles in Poland as a deterrent to Iran. Moscow hated the idea, as did most of Europe and a sizable amount of Poland. My resurrection of the concept is fiction.
The Aegis Ballistic Missile Defense System (chapter 50) would have been the weapon of choice, though there were issues then, and now, as to its effectiveness. The controversy over the canceling of the project, as described in chapter 50, happened, with many Polish leaders thinking it a sellout to Moscow at Poland’s expense. Ironically, the end came on September 17, 2009, seventy years to the day after the Soviets invaded.
The Agencja Wywiadu (chapter 11), AW, exists as Poland’s foreign intelligence service. The Biuro Ochrony Rządu, BOR, Government Protection Bureau (chapter 5), shields the president of Poland every day. The former Służba Bezpieczeństwa, the SB, the communist security police (chapter 12), wreaked havoc on Poles for decades, torturing, killing, and recruiting spies as detailed in chapter 38. Thankfully, it no longer exists. The Dreyfus affair, recounted in chapter 65, is part of history. And the qualifications to be eligible for the presidency of Poland (chapter 5) are accurate. Those elected serve a five-year term, with the possibility of only one reelection thereafter.
Kraków is also another place straight from the past. Rynek Główny, the massive central square, is impressive, as is the cloth market. The hejnał mentioned in chapter 20 is a legend of long standing, and you can still hear the mournful notes of the lone trumpeter daily.
Wawel Castle has dominated Kraków for centuries, once the center of Polish political power. Many kings and queens are buried within its walls. The castle’s rooms and geography are both faithfully recounted (chapters 28, 30, and 32), including the armoire in which Cotton hides (which is there), the back entrance into the palace, and the outer loggia. The Dragon’s Den exists and can be visited. It is one of the oldest continuously occupied sites in all of Europe, and the legend associated with the dragon (chapter 32) is part of Kraków’s mythology.
The restaurant Pod Aniołami (chapter 54) is a terrific place to enjoy traditional Polish cuisine. The Sheraton Grand Kraków stands in the shadow of Wawel Castle, and there is a terrific view from its Royal Wawel Suite (chapters 27 and 34). The Monastery of the Camaldolese Monks sits on a hill outside Kraków. A truly unique locale. If possible, pay it a visit, but be warned, the monks are a bit traditional (chapter 22). One rumor says they sleep in coffins, which is ridiculous. But they do keep the skulls of their predecessors in their hermitages. Also, women are only allowed inside to visit a few days a year.
The Holy Lance exists in a world of doubt. There are many around the world that lay claim to being authentic, the major contenders described in chapter 20. The one in Kraków known as the Spear of St. Maurice remains on display in the cathedral museum atop Wawel Hill. Unlike in the novel, the real museum underwent its restoration a few years ago. The stories associated with the spear, how the Holy Roman Emperor bestowed it onto the king of Poland, how it survived multiple invaders, and how the Germans stole then returned it, are all true (chapter 20). The Spear of St. Maurice remains a Polish national treasure, and stands as a symbol of strength and unity, along with the single-headed eagle (chapter 60).
Lech Wałęsa was indeed accused of being a former communist informant (chapters 27, 45). There were many charges and countercharges. At first Wałęsa called it all a hoax created to discredit him. A court did exonerate him of any complicity. Years later, under renewed pressure, he admitted to signing certain documents that seemed to implicate him as an informant, saying he did so to gain the government’s trust and learn what he could from the inside. That’s where the idea for my Warsaw Protocol originated, though I took it to a more radical extreme (chapter 38). The documents described in chapter 44 are based on real ones. To be labeled a communist informer then, or now, within Poland is a horrible thing. There may be no greater insult, so Janusz Czajkowski’s fears were well founded.
Memories of all that happened from 1945 to 1990 remain fresh. The Institute of National Remembrance, and its Commission for the Prosecution of Crimes Against the Polish Nation (chapter 12), are tasked with making sure those memories never fade. Both maintain a vast archive of documents from both the Nazi and communist times. Documents still turn up from time to time, many from private individuals who’ve held the information for decades. As in the story, one such cache was actually offered for sale by the widow of a former party official. The Pantry (chapter 25) is my invention, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that such a thing might exist. And what better place to hide away lots of valuable old paper than in a salt mine?
Solidarity changed Poland. It was founded at the Lenin Shipyard on September 17, 1980, as the first trade union within Eastern Europe not controlled by a communist party. It was, as noted in chapter 16, a young person’s organization, most of its leaders under the age of thirty. At its peak over ten million joined, one-third of the working-age population of Poland. It fought to effect political change, challenging the Red Bourgeoisie (chapter 16), ultimately succeeding when communist control ended in 1990. But unlike in the story, there was no Warsaw Protocol, or at least history has yet to note its existence.
Sturney Castle is a composite of several that exist across northern Slovakia (chapter 4). The torture Jonty Olivier utilizes in chapter 2, with the electrical wire down the throat, is not my invention. Košice, Slovakia, and Zakopane, Poland, are real, as is the Tatra Museum (chapters 23 and 37). The U.S. consulate in Kraków is there (chapter 35). The Wojtyła house museum in Wadowice can be visited (chapter 55).