Chapter 35
CHAPTER 35
T HOMAS HAD NEVER BEFORE MET HIS V ATICAN BENEFACTOR . A LWAYS contact was through Bartolomé. But last night, when he’d been ordered to Siena, Bartolomé had informed him that further instructions would come once there.
And not from him.
They would be delivered personally by someone else.
He’d been waiting inside the palazzo for nearly two hours, the window open, sitting back and away, out of sight, taking in the sounds from outside. He’d prayed some more and enjoyed the solitude. On the far wall of the bedchamber hung an oil painting, its detail dulled by time. Four figures with wings circling Christ. The four Evangelists. Man, Bull, Lion, and Eagle. Symbols for Incarnation, Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension. Then there was the carved crucifix. A figure at rest. Not a dying man, but a surviving God. Fitting for here. And his own life. Something a priest once said came to mind.
Itself to itself.
How true.
He’d been forced to act on the train, taking out the woman. Surely, the body had been discovered. But what had the American, Malone, done, if anything? Hopefully he’d gone back to wherever he’d come from.
A knock broke the quiet.
From downstairs.
He left the bedchamber and navigated the rooms, finding the wooden staircase and descending to ground level. He opened the front door to see an older man, dressed casually, standing outside in the entrance alcove off the street past the closed iron gate.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” the man said in English, the voice carrying a firm, self-confident ring. “I am Sergio Cardinal Ascolani.”
The name meant nothing to him.
“Your employer,” the cardinal said. “May I come inside?”
He gestured and closed the door after the man entered.
“I am head of the Entity.”
Thomas bowed his head in respect and noticed that the man wore no cross or ring—nothing that marked a status as a prince of the church.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I have no idea that you are who you say you are.”
“I understand your concern. Perhaps this might help alleviate your fears.”
And for the next several minutes the man recounted one past assignment after another, each one right on target and correct. When finished, the man who called himself Ascolani said, “Is that sufficient?”
He nodded.
“You were there and did what you did on my orders. Have you had an opportunity to explore the palazzo?”
“It is an impressive place.”
“I have sometimes stayed here myself. There is a wonderful view of the campo from the main bedchamber.”
“I have been enjoying that.”
Ascolani motioned toward the stairs. “Shall we?”
He led the way back up to the third floor. Once they arrived Ascolani approached the open window and stared out. Thomas stayed back near the entrance door, out of sight.
An old habit.
Finally, the cardinal retreated from the window. “I never thought I would meet you face-to-face. I have always directed you through another, and you have always done exactly as I asked. I respect that. But I have always wondered. Did you ever find it odd that the church asked you to kill?”
“It is not for me to question.”
“For this one time. Question.”
“I assume that you had a good reason for wanting that done. The church has long had enemies.”
“You are correct. In fact, today might be the most threatening time in our history. We are under attack from every side, every corner. Especially from oppressive governments that want to control their populations. Membership is down. Doctrine is threatened. Prelates are rebellious. My task is to protect us from any and all danger.”
“Is Cardinal Richter a threat?”
He noticed a hesitation in the elder man’s face.
“Forgive me,” he said. “But you asked me to question.”
“That I did. And yes, the cardinal is a threat of the highest order. I was hoping we could merely expose Richter as a thief, discredit and humiliate him. But that is no longer enough. So I ordered you to eliminate him with a supposed suicide.”
“What has changed?”
“Cardinal Richter is not in Munich. He is here. Along with the American agent Malone. Whatever you did in Dillenburg was not enough.”
Now he knew what happened with Malone.
“He was supposed to be arrested,” Ascolani said. “Along with Richter. But Malone has now connected with Richter, who has joined with my predecessor, Cardinal Stamm, to clear his name. The situation has become much more complicated.”
“Not for me.” And he meant every word.
Ascolani smiled, though the face radiated about as much feeling as a tombstone. “Confidence. It can be both a blessing… and a curse.”
He offered a slight bow as a concession to his vanity.
“From this point forward you will take all your instructions from me personally.” Ascolani reached into his pocket and removed a cell phone. “We will communicate through this device only.”
He accepted the phone and nodded.
The cardinal walked back to the open window and motioned for him to join.
He hesitated.
“It is okay,” Ascolani said.
So he stepped close.
“Have you ever seen the Palio?”
He shook his head.
“It is a grand spectacle. A demonstration of liberty and self-expression. The track down there is itself a metaphor, a boundless loop around which people press and horses run. The sacred and the profane both dwell in the Palio. As does danger. Jockeys and horses have died. Tomorrow all that open space will be filled with people. I want you here. Ready. At the very least you will have an excellent vantage point from which to watch the race. Are you a practicing Catholic?”
“My faith is strong.”
“Do you take confession?”
“I do. With some qualifications.”
“I thought that might be the case. It is hard to be entirely honest with a stranger, regardless of priest confidentiality. And I appreciate your discretion. I truly do. Would you like me to hear your full confession? There would be no reason to be hesitant with me.”
No, there would not. “I would like that.”
“Then kneel, and I will absolve you of all sin.”