Adrian D'Hage - The Omega scroll

Allegra breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t be giving this lecture, Antonio?’

The old maestro could have given the lecture with practised ease but he knew that the beautiful young woman on his staff possessed a very fine mind, and he was determined she should be given the opportunity to stretch her wings. Outside the University of Milano Dr Allegra Bassetti was still unknown but Rosselli knew that would change.

‘I could,’ he said, ‘but I won’t be here for ever. Sooner or later someone has to be around to take the place of old badgers like me. Besides, you’re just as qualified and a little easier on the eye. They can put up with me for the other half of the lecture, one which I have named “The lost civilisation of the Essenes, DNA and the Omega Scroll”.’

Allegra felt a chill. The Omega Scroll. The speculation had died down long ago and other than a passing reference Professor Rosselli hadn’t brought it up. Why now, she wondered.

‘Do you think that’s wise, Antonio. The Omega Scroll seems to be the Essene’s version of the curse of the Pharaohs.’

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I’m convinced Professor Fiorini was murdered, but I’m equally convinced that was because he was about to link the Vatican to the Omega Scroll.’

‘You spoke to him before he disappeared?’

‘Only a brief phone call. He didn’t want to say too much over the phone but he told me he had some exciting news about the Omega Scroll. He disappeared before we could talk.’

‘Why are you including it in your lecture?’

‘Firstly, I’m not going to mention the Vatican and secondly, my friend Professor Kaufmann, who I would like you to meet one day, has unearthed some interesting links between DNA and the Essenes. Don’t worry, I doubt the Vatican will show the slightest interest.’

Cardinal Lorenzo Petroni saw the last but one of his dinner guests to the door. The Minister for Finance, the editor of the influential Milano Finanza and Milano’s Il Capo di Guardia di Finanza. The guest list for dinner had also included three merchant bankers and the CEO of Cologne Constructions, one of Europe’s largest property developers. Petroni’s remaining guest, Giorgio Felici, was enjoying a Remy Martin Louis XIII Cognac by the fire in the Cardinal’s study.

‘ Allora, I think that went fairly well, Giorgio?’ Petroni said on his return.

‘Some useful contacts, Lorenzo, for when you become Cardinal Secretary of State, non e vero?’

Lorenzo Petroni eyed the little Sicilian without expression. Giorgio Felici had his uses, and when Petroni had last been at the helm of the Vatican Bank he had persuaded the Holy Father that he should appoint Giorgio Felici as his financial adviser. The Pope had agreed and the Vatican award of ‘Gentleman of His Holiness’ had been promptly bestowed on the merchant banker from Milano. In the years that he’d been out of the Vatican as Cardinal Archbishop of Milano, Petroni had come to regret the arrangement intensely. The Vatican Bank holdings had become so large that Felici had acquired direct access to the Papal Apartments. Petroni had been trying to find a way to restore his own control and have Felici report through him, and now, he reflected with more than a little satisfaction, that could be done. The previous day, His Holiness had announced that Cardinal Lorenzo Petroni would take over as the Vatican’s Cardinal Secretary of State. Petroni had received the news calmly. It was, he thought, part of the natural progression and he was finally within striking distance of his ultimate goal. The Pope, Petroni had noted, kept a gruelling schedule and his health seemed unusually robust, but time would tell.

‘When do you plan to take up your appointment?’ Giorgio asked.

‘I leave for Rome next Tuesday.’

‘Perhaps it is not a moment too soon, Lorenzo.’

‘Oh?’ Petroni replied off-handedly, but he was instantly alert.

‘The new Director of the Bank, Monsignor Pasquale Garibaldi, will need to be replaced.’

Petroni’s expression gave nothing away. When Garibaldi had been first mooted as a candidate he had tried to have his appointment stopped. Garibaldi had a reputation for scrupulous honesty and transparency.

‘Monsignor Garibaldi has confided in me that he has found some irregularities in the accounts. It seems he may have twigged to our double invoicing scheme,’ Giorgio Felici said quietly.

Petroni felt his pulse quicken but he said nothing. An earlier scheme had come perilously close to landing Petroni in gaol, but after the death of Pope John Paul I, Felici and Petroni had resurrected the scheme. Petroni had retained control of the Vatican Bank, and he had not been able to resist the thrill of millions of dollars pouring into the Papal coffers through a subsidiary bank that was jointly owned by Felici and the Vatican. Thousands of false and artificially low invoices from Felici’s trading companies were sent to the Tax Office through the Bank of Italy. The false invoices attracted much less tax and the difference on the real invoices would be paid in cash by the receiving companies overseas and channelled back to Felici and the Vatican Bank. For the scheme to succeed the necessary bribes were being paid to government officials, but the Vatican Bank also had to be watertight.

‘I have told Monsignor Garibaldi he is to continue his investigation, and that I am very keen for the Vatican Bank to overcome its earlier, shall we say, difficulties and that he is to report directly to me. I have bought us some time, but he will need to be dealt with quickly.’ Giorgio’s smile was humourless.

‘You can leave that problem with me,’ Petroni said, irritated by the Sicilian’s superior manner. ‘In the meantime, there is a more pressing issue. Professor Antonio Rosselli is planning to give a lecture next week on the Omega Scroll. I have an advance copy of the text.’

‘Not provided by him,’ Felici observed with a touch of sarcasm.

‘You are not the only one who is well connected in Milano, Georgio,’ Petroni replied. ‘It is not only his lecture. I have received word that Rosselli has been in contact with an Israeli mathematician and as a result, Rosselli’s investigation into the Omega Scroll is gathering pace. Rosselli has to be stopped.’

‘That will attract a lot of heat, Lorenzo,’ Felici said. ‘It’s likely to focus attention back on the Vatican and the death of Pope John Paul I, and that might be awkward.’

‘These things are always temporary, Giorgio, and as Secretary of State I will be well positioned to handle any upstarts from the media. Rosselli’s theories are one thing, but connecting them with the Omega Scroll is quite another. The Holy Church must be protected, and I suggest you leave the theology to me. You do your job, and I’ll do mine.’

Felici smiled.

‘It will be expensive,’ he said, not caring too much about the reasons behind Petroni’s burning desire to rid himself of the troublesome Professor at Ca’ Granda. Felici’s voice held a faint hint of admiration for a cold-blooded ruthlessness that matched his own.

The same day that Lorenzo Petroni took up his appointment as Cardinal Secretary of State, Giorgio Felici dressed in a pair of dirty overalls and a paint-spattered cap and headed for the University of Milano. The students and faculty at Ca’ Granda took no notice as he walked into the grounds through the rear car park and up some narrow steps that led past the Faculty of Philosophy towards the main quadrangles. Felici had memorised the map of the university grounds and he made his way unerringly down the corridor that housed the offices of Professor Rosselli and Dr Bassetti. Satisfied, he made his way across to the faculty theatre where Bassetti’s and Rosselli’s lectures were scheduled to be held. Given the choice he decided on the theatre. The office block was too confined whereas the external fire escape from the mezzanine floor that housed the theatre projection facilities provided direct access to the car park below. The locks on the doors to the projector room were standard and Giorgio’s third key fitted perfectly.