Luis Rocha - Papal decree

‘Seriously?’ There were things that left even Sarah puzzled. ‘That connection is the raison d’etre of the church.’

‘It is, Sarah. But it was fabricated. Conclaves are very recent. The term pope itself came into use only in the third century, though back then it meant all Catholic bishops. In the sixth century it was used to designate only the bishop of Rome, and only in the ninth century did it become the official title it is now.’

‘What does pope mean?’

‘It’s thought it has to do with the first syllables of the words pater and pastor, but that’s only a theory.’

‘How was it that a history that began so long ago in Israel could culminate here in Rome and turn Rome into the center of the Christian world?’

‘Think about it. Rome was the capital of the empire that ruled Israel. Two plus two… for the creation of a new religion to subjugate the population, Rome had to play a predominant role.’

‘My God.’

‘The truth is, Sarah, that we’ve attributed what we can’t explain to God from the beginning, and we continue to do so. Men in power understand this and use that knowledge for their own interests.’

‘But you work for a church that misrepresents things.’

‘We all have our price, Sarah,’ Jacopo confessed. ‘That said, what better job than to discover what’s true and what’s a lie?’

‘Have you been able to discover that?’

‘I’ve only achieved more doubts and questions,’ he replied with a frustrated smile.

‘Have you seen what’s inside here?’ She pointed to the case.

Jacopo shook his head no. ‘I still don’t have the courage.’

At that moment Sarah’s cell phone vibrated, announcing a new text message. She felt a moment of anxiety in her heart. Maybe it was Francesco saying he’d arrived. She read the text, but didn’t understand it immediately, despite its being short and clear.

‘News?’ Jacopo asked.

‘The driving around is over. We have to go to this location.’ She showed the screen to the historian.

He read the message and swallowed dryly. ‘Why didn’t I stay at home?’ he complained.

The Church of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, 15 minutes was written on the screen.

Rafael opened the inside door on the right, careful to make no noise, and entered silently. He closed the door and walked agilely through the side nave. He looked around the immense central nave, but neither saw nor heard anyone. The light was dim, favoring both sides.

He went past Saint Christopher’s Chapel toward Saint Joseph’s, using the columns and niches to shield himself. He looked over at the side nave on the left and saw Aris and Barry advancing cautiously in front of the chapel of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

As he continued, he began to hear voices, imperceptible at first, disconnected, a murmur, and then words, entire phrases, a laugh he didn’t recognize, Tarcisio’s voice pleading for the craziness to stop, William’s warning that they’d regret all this. The laugh again.

‘God is going to punish us, Prefect?’ The same male voice that laughed asked. ‘Even though you gentlemen hired a criminal to murder a Supreme Pontiff? I really don’t know who deserves more punishment.’

Rafael moved a little closer. He hid behind a column and peered around the edge. Tarcisio and William were seated on chairs turned toward the altar on the right side of the transept, dedicated to Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, a Jesuit who died in the prime of life from the bubonic plague. There were four kidnappers, a man in a cassock, much younger than the cardinals, and three younger men in suits. You can’t trust a man in a suit or a cassock.

Beyond Saint Aloysius’s altar, next to the high altar, he could see the funerary monument of Gregory XV and of Cardinal Ludovico Ludovisi.

‘What can the pope’s assassin do to us?’ the priest continued.

Tarcisio and William were sweating profusely.

‘You’re not going to get away with it, Hans. The pope will concede nothing,’ the secretary argued.

‘The pope has no choice,’ Rafael heard a voice say from the altar.

Rafael couldn’t see where the voice came from, but he recognized the voice of Adolph, the superior general, who was walking toward the group with firm, decisive steps, a leader of men and the faithful.

‘The pope is the Supreme Pontiff, the pastor of pastors. You can’t do anything to him,’ William shouted.

‘In theory you’re right. But that’s going to change tonight,’ the superior general declared with a scornful smile.

The four kidnappers were silent and lowered their heads in respect. Tarcisio shivered.

‘You’re a heretic,’ William insulted Adolph, outraged.

‘Infidel,’ Adolph answered with the same tone. ‘I want the pope to sign an agreement with us. Since that’s something you’re used to doing.’

‘I can’t negotiate in his name, and given how you’re treating high dignitaries of the church, I don’t — ’

‘There’s one thing I’ve learned in life, Tarcisio,’ Adolph interrupted. ‘Everything can be forgotten to preserve a higher good.’

Tarcisio spread his arms dramatically. ‘This can’t be forgotten.’

Adolph smiled sardonically. ‘This never happened, you know very well. It’ll never appear in the history books.’

‘What do you want?’ Tarcisio asked, irritated.

‘That Ratzinger sign an agreement to name a Jesuit to succeed him when God calls him to His side. Obviously.’

‘Are you crazy?’ William reprehended him. ‘His Holiness will never agree to that.’

‘That’s too bad,’ Adolph replied. ‘We guard your greatest secrets loyally,’ he added pointedly.

‘Spare me, Adolph,’ Tarcisio protested. ‘You are the loyal guardians of a fraud. The bones of Christ, parchments that were probably written in the sixteenth century.’

‘How dare you repudiate our work that Saint Ignatius — ’

‘Don’t make me laugh, Adolph,’ Tarcisio provoked. ‘Whatever he brought from Jerusalem weren’t the bones of Christ but some John Doe nobody knows about.’

Tarcisio sounded as if he possessed a higher truth.

‘You have a very high opinion of yourselves,’ the secretary insisted. ‘Do you think if they were really the bones of Christ, the Holy See would have left them in your hands? You were used to carrying them wherever the pope decreed. Nothing more.’

Adolph’s face twisted in rage. He looked at his watch. ‘Ten o’clock. Time’s up.’

A cell phone rang loudly at just that moment. Adolph took it out and listened without saying a word. He disconnected and smiled. ‘It appears His Holiness has conceded. His secretary and prefect are worth something to him, after all.’

Tarcisio and William looked at him, puzzled. Rafael thought it all very strange.

‘It’s not what we agreed, but the parchments will be delivered here,’ the superior general informed them.

‘How do they know we’re here?’ Schmidt asked, surprised.

‘What does it matter, Aloysius?’ Adolph interrupted. ‘What matters is the parchments will be in our power. If Ratzinger gives in on this, he’ll give in on the rest.’ He smiled with good reason. ‘Tell the men to let whoever the Vatican sends come in, Nicolas.’

Nicolas raised the radio to his lips. ‘Attention, Giovanni.’

Rafael got up noiselessly. There would be trouble when Giovanni didn’t answer.

‘Giovanni, come in,’ Nicolas ordered.

No one answered.

‘Go see what’s going on,’ Schmidt ordered.

Nicolas took out a gun and left for the door. ‘Keep your eyes open,’ he said to Schmidt as he left.

Rafael would not have a better opportunity to act. It had to be now, though the telephone call Adolph had received confused him a little. It had to be quick. First the agents, then the priest, if necessary. He waited until Nicolas had walked through the central nave to the entrance.