The Second Messiah

As he stared out at the throngs of tourists assembling on St. Peter’s Square, the door behind him opened and Umberto Cassini strolled in, looking regal in his cardinal’s red cassock and hat. He made a point of checking his wristwatch. “Ah, Liam. You wanted to see me. Can we make it quick? I have a meeting with the Bishop of Paris in ten minutes.”

Kelly looked troubled as he came away from the window. “I think you’re going to find this a lot more interesting, Umberto.”

“How so?”

“I just had a strange phone call and an even stranger request from Jack Cane. He wanted me to arrange an immediate private audience with the pope. Demanded it—would you believe?”

Cassini riveted his attention on Kelly. “Go on.”

Kelly’s craggy face darkened. “Cane says he now knows the location of the stolen scroll. He also says that its contents will rock the church and the world.”

Cassini’s jaw twitched nervously. “Those were his exact words?” Kelly nodded.

“He said he would only discuss it with the pope. And that if we don’t comply with his request within the next hour, he’ll divulge what he knows to the newspapers. He says if that happens, then tomorrow’s headlines would make for interesting reading.”

“What else did he say?”

Kelly wrung his hands worriedly. “Nothing, but I got the feeling he was hinting that the Vatican could be in the firing line for some kind of scandal if his wishes aren’t met.”

“What kind of scandal?”

Kelly restlessly came away from the window. “I’ve no idea, Umberto. I told Cane that a papal audience can’t be arranged just at the drop of a hat. Besides, his request was highly irregular.”

Cassini slumped into the chair in front of Kelly’s walnut desk and ran a hand over his face, his mind working overtime. “Did Cane say where he was calling from?”

“No. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“He didn’t stay very long on the phone either. I got the impression he was afraid his call might be traced.”

“Did he now?”

Kelly added worriedly, “This has a bad feel to it, Umberto. I can sense it in my bones. What are we going to do?”

Cassini’s mouth twisted in a scowl as he pushed himself up from the chair.

“Apparently the only thing we can do. Arrange for Cane to speak with the pope at once.”

Angelo Butoni no longer wore his Levi’s T-shirt and corduroy jacket, but a shirt and tie. As he ushered Sean Ryan into his office, the monsignor said expectantly, “You told me you followed the pope back to the monastery. So where exactly did he go?”

“As I explained on the phone, he drove to a house not far from the railway station, about a block from the red-light area,” Butoni answered.

“Give me the details,” Ryan demanded.

“He went in the front door, which was opened by an attractive middle-aged woman.”

Ryan sighed deeply. “Don’t tell me we’ve got the makings of a scandal here, Angelo.”

“I checked. The house is registered to a Father Kubel. The woman in question was Kubel’s sister and housekeeper.”

“Was?”

“A doctor visited the house about half an hour after the pope arrived. It seems Father Kubel was terminally ill with cancer and passed away. I saw his body being removed by paramedics and got the gist of the story from his neighbors.”

Ryan sighed again, this time with relief. “Kubel, you say?”

“Franz Kubel. I checked on him with the diocese. He was an archaeologist as well as a priest, and spent years working in Israel. Why, do you know him, Monsignor?”

“The name rings a bell.”

“It seems the pope may have been privately visiting Kubel these last few days. The priest was on his deathbed.”

Ryan wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. “Well, thankfully we’ve got a simple enough explanation, that’s all I’ll say. But why all the secrecy on the pope’s part?”

A knock came on the door and a plainclothes Vatican security officer appeared. “The lab results you wanted, Angelo.”

He handed a sheet of paper to Butoni, who read the contents, frowned, and looked up at the man. “You absolutely certain about this?”

“A hundred and ten percent, boss.”

“Thanks, Rico, you can go.”

The man left and Ryan said, “What was that all about?”

Butoni held up the paper in his hand. “The threatening letter to the pope that you asked me check for prints. The one that Cardinal Cassini received. And the videotapes of the Vatican archive building, where the secret archive documents went missing. You asked me to review all the security tape footage since the day after the pope’s election.”

“Go on, Angelo.”

“We didn’t find any fingerprints on the sheet, but I got samples of printed letters from every cardinal’s office, going back several years, and checked them against the paper type and printer font in the original threat letter.”

Ryan smiled and his ears pricked up. “Good man, Angelo, that’s what I like to hear. Find anything interesting?”

“I think you could say that. And I’d like you to have a look at one of the archive’s security videotapes while we’re at it.”

“Why?”

“I think we’ve found our thief.”

109

AVENTINO

ROME