Berry, Steve - the Third Secret

He shrugged. “Trust me. I am.”

“All right. Father Tibor reproduced Sister Lucia’s third message of Fatima. He sent his facsimile of both the original the good nun penned and his translation to Clement. The reproduced translation is now gone from the Riserva.”

Michener was beginning to understand. “So you did take part of the third secret in 1978.”

“I simply want what that priest concocted. Where are Clement’s belongings?”

“I gave his furniture to charity. The rest I have.”

“Have you been through them?”

He lied. “Of course.”

“And you found nothing from Father Tibor?”

“Would you believe me if I answered?”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m such a nice guy.”

Valendrea went silent for a moment. Michener stayed silent, too.

“What did you learn in Bosnia?”

He noticed the shift in subjects. “Not to climb a mountain in a rainstorm.”

“I see why Clement treasured you. A quick wit, matched by a sharp intellect.” He paused. “Now answer my question.”

He reached into his pocket, withdrew Jasna’s note, and handed the slip of paper to the pope. “That’s the tenth secret of Medjugorje.”

Valendrea accepted the offering and read. The Tuscan drew a deep breath and his gaze shifted pointedly from the sheet to Michener’s face. A low moan seeped from the pope’s mouth and, without warning, Valendrea lunged forward and grabbed two handfuls of Michener’s black cassock, the paper still in his hand. Fury filled the eyes that stared upon him. “Where is Tibor’s reproduced translation?”

He was shocked by the attack, but kept his composure. “I considered Jasna’s words meaningless. Why do they bother you?”

“Her ramblings mean nothing. What I want is Father Tibor’s facsimile—”

“If the words are meaningless, why am I being assaulted?”

Valendrea seemed to realize the situation and released his grip. “Tibor’s translation is Church property. I want it returned.”

“Then you need to dispatch the Swiss guard to locate it.”

“You have forty-eight hours to produce it or I’ll have a warrant issued for your arrest.”

“On what charge?”

“Theft of Vatican property. I’ll also turn you over to the Romanian police. They want to know about your visit with Father Tibor.” The words crackled with authority.

“I’m sure they’ll want to know about your visit with him, too.”

“What visit?”

He needed Valendrea to think he knew far more than he did. “You left the Vatican the day Tibor was killed.”

“Since you seem to have all the answers, tell me where I went.”

“I know enough.”

“Do you really believe you can carry that bluff through? You plan to implicate the pope in a murder investigation? That effort would not get far.”

He tried another bluff. “You weren’t alone.”

“Really now? Tell me more.”

“I’ll wait until my police interrogation. The Romanians will be fascinated. That much I guarantee.”

A flushed look invaded Valendrea’s face. “You have no idea what’s at stake here. This is more important than you could ever realize.”

“You sound like Clement.”

“On this he was right.” Valendrea looked away for a moment, then turned back. “Did Clement tell you that he watched while I burned part of what Tibor sent him? He stood right there in the Riserva and let me destroy it. He also wanted me to know that the rest of what Tibor sent, a facsimile translation of Sister Lucia’s complete message, was there, too, in the box. But it is now gone. Clement didn’t want anything to happen to it. That much I know. So he gave it to you.”

“Why is this translation so important?”

“I don’t plan to explain myself. I simply want the document returned.”

“How do you know it was even there?”

“I don’t. But no one returned to the archives after that Friday night, and Clement was dead two days later.”

“Along with Father Tibor.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean.”

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to get that document.”

A bitter edge laced to the words. “I believe you would.” He needed to leave. “Am I dismissed?”

“Get out. But I’d better hear from you in two days time or you won’t like my next messenger.”

He wondered what that meant. The police? Somebody else? Hard to say.

“Ever wonder how Ms. Lew found you in Romania?” Valendrea casually asked as he reached the door.

Did he hear right? How did he know anything about Katerina? He stopped and looked back.

“She was there because I paid her to learn what you were doing.”

He was stunned, but said nothing.

“Bosnia, too. She went to keep an eye on you. I told her to use her talents to gain your trust, as she apparently did.”

He rushed forward, but Valendrea produced a small black controller. “One press and Swiss guards charge into this room. Assaulting the pope is a serious crime.”

He halted his advance and repressed a shudder.

“You aren’t the first man to be duped by a woman. She’s clever. But I’m telling you this as a warning. Careful whom you trust, Michener. There’s much at stake. You may not realize it, but I may be the only friend you’ve got when all this is over.”

FIFTY-SIX

Michener left the library. Ambrosi was waiting outside but did not accompany him to the forward loggia, saying only that the car and driver would take him wherever he wanted to go.

Katerina sat alone on a gilded settee. He was trying to understand what had motivated her to deceive him. He’d wondered about her finding him in Bucharest, then showing up at the apartment in Rome. He wanted to believe everything that had passed between them had been sincere, but he could not help thinking that it was all an act, designed to sway his emotions and lower his defenses. He’d been worried about the household staff or listening devices. Instead the one person he trusted had become his enemy’s perfect emissary.

At Turin, Clement had warned him. You have no idea the depth of a person like Alberto Valendrea. You think you can do battle with Valendrea? No, Colin. You’re no match for him. You’re too decent. Too trusting.

His throat tightened as he came close to Katerina. Perhaps his strained expression betrayed his thoughts.

“He told you about me, didn’t he?” Her voice was sad.

“You expected that?”

“Ambrosi almost did yesterday. I figured Valendrea certainly would. I’m of no use to them anymore.”

Emotions ricocheted through him.

“I told them nothing, Colin. Absolutely nothing. I took Valendrea’s money and I went to Romania and Bosnia. That’s true. But because I wanted to go, not because they wanted me to. I used them, like they used me.”

The words sounded good, but were not enough to ease his pain. He calmly asked, “Does the truth mean anything to you?”

She bit her lip and he noticed her right arm trembling. Anger, which was her usual response to a confrontation, had not surfaced. When she did not answer him, he said, “I trusted you, Kate. I told you things I would never tell anyone else.”

“And I didn’t violate that trust.”

“How am I to believe you?” Though he wanted to.

“What did Valendrea say?”

“Enough for us to be having this conversation.”

He was rapidly numbing. His parents were gone, as was Jakob Volkner. Now Katerina had betrayed him. For the first time in his life he was alone, and suddenly the weight of being an unwanted baby, born in an institution and stripped from his mother, settled upon him. He was in many ways lost, with nowhere to turn. He’d thought with Clement gone the woman standing before him held the answer to his future. He was even willing to discard a quarter century of his life for the chance to love her and be loved back.