Lux Domini: Thriller: A Catherine Bell Story

by Alex Thomas

  "You want to call him. Now?"

  "What should stop me?" asked the younger man innocently. "It is just after five o’clock."

  The doorbell rang. Urgently.

  Speak of the devil, thought Ben as he sank back into the wall of pillows. The young priest rushed to the door. Ben could hear Rinaldo speaking to someone, but he couldn’t understand a word. It appeared he might receive a reprieve.

  "You have a visitor," said his caregiver and returned with a most beautiful woman by his side.

  "Ben!"

  He sat up with great pain. Catherine left Rinaldo standing there by himself and rushed to him.

  "My God, what happened? The Monsignor suggested you had an accident." She took his hand and held it tightly.

  Ben and Rinaldo subtly exchanged glances. Then he said: "That’s right. But nothing too serious. I was lucky." He turned to the younger man. "Rinaldo, would you mind…"

  He nodded. He knew that Ben and Catherine had been like brother and sister since they were kids. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but give Ben a warning look toward Catherine to be careful. Don’t say too much! "I’ll be in the living room watching the telly," he said.

  "Thank you."

  Catherine was still holding Ben’s hand. He didn’t feel very good about having to lie to her.

  The Next Step

  31

  Rome, The Vatican, Apostolic Palace

  It was after six o’clock when his Eminence Cardinal Gasperetti caught up with the prefect of the Congregation of the Doctrine of Faith in one of the less crowded corridors of the Apostolic Palace. Gasperetti knew that Ciban was on his way back to his office in the Palace of the Inquisition from the papal chambers where he had met with the Pope. The time for a chat couldn’t have been more favourable for Gasperetti and the group of high-ranking cardinals whom he represented.

  "We need to talk, Marc," he said straightforwardly, looking up at the much taller prefect with his weasel eyes. "At the moment there are quite a few open questions for which we need answers."

  "We? Who is we, Eminence?" asked Ciban with great interest.

  Of course, thought Gasperetti, his counterpart would very quickly deduce the ‘why’ from the ‘we’. The younger man had amazed him more than once during various cardinal meetings. During the last conclave, for instance. By a certain measure the chairman of the Congregation for Bishops oscillated between sympathy and antipathy regarding Ciban. But at the moment – given the delicate goal Gasperetti was pursuing – aversion clearly took the upper hand. Moreover, after the incident with Ben Hawlett, Ciban didn’t exactly hold him in high regard.

  "Monti, Bear, Scipio, Delay and myself. Apologies that I have to confront you with this, but the matter is of too much importance to push it off any longer. I hope that you will be able to shed some light on the subject. His Eminence, Cardinal Monti has offered us his private office." Ciban scrutinised him for a moment. Gasperetti thought he might just meet him with a rebuff, but the prefect agreed to the meeting.

  When they entered Sergio Cardinal Monti’s private office, the cardinals already present stood up to politely greet them before sitting back down onto their comfortable Renaissance chairs placed around the large rectangular table. Monti sat at the head. Gasperetti had an unpleasant feeling that the room’s temperature dropped the moment he entered its space.

  "Come, please sit down, Marc," said Cardinal Secretary of State Monti who was Ciban’s predecessor as the prefect of the Congregation of the Doctrine of Faith.

  "Would you care for some coffee, tea…or something stronger? I could also offer you a scotch."

  "Thank you. A coffee, please."

  Cardinal Bear, who sat closest to the coffee machine, stood and poured Ciban a cup. Bear ran one of the wealthiest dioceses in the Catholic Church in Chicago. He was deemed the most influential cardinal in the US. Together with Benelli, he had cleaned up the Vatican bank in the 90s, which had been haunted with scandal since the 70s. "Milk? Sugar?"

  "Just milk. Thank you."

  Ciban accepted the cup and placed it before him on the table. Every pair of eyes rested upon him. He got straight to the point. "What’s on your mind, Your Eminences? What’s this about?"

  Gasperetti, who had taken a seat next to Monti and across from Ciban and had also take a cup of coffee, explained calmly: "It’s about His Holiness’ health. We need a statement. How is His Holiness’ physical and mental health? As your predecessor in the Grand Inquisitor’s office, Sergio…" He pointed respectfully to Monti, the eldest cardinal in the group, "couldn’t tell us much. But since we know that you have enjoyed the confidence of His Holiness for some time now and speak with him often, we thought you might be able to assist us further."

  "His Holiness is doing well. He is recovering nicely," Ciban said with poise. "Dr. Lionello is hopeful that he will be able to resume his work day after tomorrow."

  Bear cleared his throat. "As far as I know, Dr. Lionello was called twice in the past few days to assist His Holiness due to a dizzy spell. Has he found out the cause of his collapse yet?"

  Ciban took a sip of coffee, then said: "Let’s grant His Holiness a little unofficial break, shall we? As you all well know, he has worked eighteen-hour days seven days a week since he entered office. It is a miracle that he has lasted this long. It would be premature to ask him to already draw up his resignation."

  Cardinal Monti laughed the croaking laugh of an old man. For a brief moment, the tension in the room eased somewhat. He then asked: "What happened last night?" The question sounded more like: What really happened last night?

  Ciban returned Monti’s gaze. For a second Gasperetti thought he might have seen sparks fly between both men.

  "I don’t quite understand the question, Eminence," explained the younger cardinal politely.

  Monti didn’t avoid Ciban’s gaze. "Might there be a connection between His Holiness’ collapse and the incident in Benelli’s villa?"

  For a moment, the room went completely silent, then Ciban responded: "If a hammer falls to the floor here and five thousand kilometres away a cyclone hits, it doesn’t mean that there is a…connection."

  "But perhaps the hammer is responsible for the cyclone," retorted the old man.

  "What do you want from me?" Ciban looked at the group with glowering deliberation, sweeping his gaze over Gasperetti and landing on Monti. "That I open your consciousness for the Holy Ghost’s inspiration?" He kept staring at Monti. The old cardinal knew exactly what his successor was inferring.

  "Calm down, Marc," Gasperetti took on a placating tone. The old cardinal couldn't remember a single instance in which he had experienced such a moment while serving under Pope Innocence with whom he was close friends until the Pope’s passing. But Innocence had also never had inexplicable dizzy spells.

  "We have another problem altogether," explained Bear, steering the group back on track. "The media haven’t gotten their hands on the news about His Holiness’ condition yet, but we all know it’s just a matter of time before they do."

  Monti nodded, straightening his elderly frame in the chair. "Thank you, James. As we all know, according to the Apostolic constitution, the press office is subordinate to the Secretariat of State’s office. Ultimately, it is I who carries the burden of deciding what we tell the world should it no longer be possible to keep His Holiness’ health a secret – or should it worsen."

  When Ciban said nothing, Gasperetti carefully added: "We have to know what impact His Holiness’ health condition will have on the Church. Will Pope Leo recover? Will he remain ill for some time? What should we tell the media should the worst case scenario come to fruition?"

  After briefly exchanging glances with Gasperetti, Ciban turned his gaze back to Monti who, as Cardinal Secretary of State, controlled the press office. "His Holiness is most certainly able to both physically and mentally perform his papal duties. I also assume that you have enough influence to prevent any false reports from leaking out through the Vatican’s press office.
"

  With that he stood up, took one last swig of his coffee, excused himself and left the room.

  Gasperetti watched the tall, slender cardinal leave. As the heavy door slid shut, he gave an inward sigh. The incident caused by one of his agents in the Benelli villa hadn’t improved his relationship with Ciban. Innocence had warned Marc about Ciban’s stubbornness and tendency to be a lone wolf. But as far as Gasperetti knew, Leo and the prefect weren’t exactly friends either. Not to mention Ciban’s relationship to Monti. In any case, it wouldn’t be smart to make enemies with this man.

  32

  After everything that Catherine told Ben, he thought he might still be under the drug’s influence and was actually asleep. In a wakeful state her words sounded completely ludicrous, but under the influence of the numbing substance they would have made sense.

  "How do you know that His Holiness is seriously ill?" he asked, trying not to sound sceptical. In any case he had heard the rumour that the Pope had suffered a collapse a few days ago.

  "Not ill, just weakened," corrected Catherine. "Benelli told me in the dream."

  "Have you had dreams like that before?"

  She shook her head vigorously. "Of course not. Not that I know of anyway."

  Ben looked at her but said nothing. Catherine finally said: "Don’t look at me like that, as if I were crazy or something."

  "You must forgive me, but your story sounds rather…confusing."

  Catherine let out a big sigh. "Benelli told me I have nearly three times the psychic power of the most gifted medium that Lux has ever had in the Institute’s entire student body."

  "Who is the other most gifted medium next to you then?"

  "He didn’t say, but that doesn’t mean anything. The cardinal also said that through his death he was able to unify his psychic energy with mine. Through his additional energy I would be strong enough to prevent His Holiness from a complete breakdown."

  "How does it work?"

  "It’s simple: I transfer Benelli’s and my surplus energy onto His Holiness."

  Ben sat in bed, pale as a ghost, and remained silent. For the life of him he didn’t know what else to say other than: Catherine, you’re crazy!

  "Please listen to me. You are the only person I can talk to about this without being sent immediately to the insane asylum. You have known me long enough. You know I’m not crazy and that I would never just think up something like this. I can barely believe it myself and I don’t understand it either. But I swear to you if we don’t set out to His Holiness soon so that I can do what Benelli has asked me to do, it might be too late."

  It was Ben’s turn to sigh. "We can’t just waltz into the Apostolic Palace and swing by to see the Pope, Catherine. They wouldn’t even let us near the lift to the papal private chambers, much less offer us a private audience with him."

  "There has to be a way. Someone who can clear the way for us. What about Monsignor Massini?"

  "Massini? Forget about it. He might allow the Cardinal Secretary of State a free pass without an appointment. But certainly not us. And certainly not with a story like ours!"

  "The house is in flames, Ben. Ablaze. Think about the two murders that preceded Darius’. There will be more murders. Benelli is certain of that."

  "Which other murders are you referring to?" Ben stared at her from his wall of pillows as if in a trance.

  "Sister Isabella and Father Sylvester. Both of the religious members that were killed in Switzerland and France. Did you not know about them?"

  So as not to reveal that Ciban had hidden the information from him, he explained quickly: "I’m more interested in knowing how you learned of it?"

  "Even if I have to repeat myself and feel idiotic doing so: from His Eminence Cardinal Benelli!"

  Benelli, Benelli, Benelli raced through Ben’s head. Time and again it was always Benelli! No matter which way he looked at it, all threads seemed to come from Benelli and lead back to him again. For a brief moment he toyed with the idea of asking Catherine whether Benelli had said anything to her about a project named "LUKE", but he thought better of it.

  "I know someone who might be able to help us."

  "You mean so we can be allowed to see the Pope tonight?"

  Ben nodded. "Yes. But you have to explain the complete story again and you won’t like it. I won’t either, by the way." He gave her a crooked smile. "Perhaps it is best if you left out the part about Golgotha."

  "Who are you talking about?"

  "Cardinal Ciban."

  "Oh good heavens, no!" The words shot out of her like a cannonball. She let go of his hand and sat back down on her chair. "There must be another way."

  Ben leaned forward slightly. "If it is as urgent as you say it is, this is our only chance."

  "What makes you think he of all people would be willing to help us?"

  Ben cleared his throat. "A rumour."

  "A rumour?" Catherine couldn’t believe her ears. Since when did her friend trust in such things? "What kind of gossip is it that would make you trust it with our lives?"

  "Benelli and Ciban are said to have worked together during the last conclave."

  Catherine stared at her friend. "You’re joking, right?"

  "Not at all. I know you must be thinking that whoever started this rumour is either out of his mind or wishes to create confusion."

  "You are trying to tell me that this certain someone was a witness during the papal election."

  "It makes sense to me."

  She gave a deep sigh.

  Ben could relate to her sighing. Catherine had access to neither the appropriate information from the Congregation nor from the archives. But if Pope Leo’s life depended on Ciban learning of her mission as soon as possible, they might as well get it over with right away.

  "And now?" he asked. "What shall we do?"

  It seemed to take an eternity for Catherine to answer. But she finally did: "Alright then."

  He sat up halfway and turned his body to stand up, pushing his legs off the bed and groaning all the while. Catherine had already jumped to the ready to help him, but he waved her off.

  "Heavens. No. That’s all we need is for you to hurt yourself. Ask Monsignor Rinaldo to come in. He is more muscular than you are. He can help me get dressed and drive the car."

  Fifteen minutes later and after Rinaldo had phoned Ciban’s secretary, they were on their way to the Palace of the Inquisition.

  Catherine had never felt so relieved and wretched at the same time.

  33

  Cardinal Monti sat at his ornamental desk in the Secretariat of State’s office with its view over the Damasus Courtyard, preparing various documents for His Holiness. He could no longer see the architectonic beauty that surrounded him. It had long become customary to him. His desk could just as easily be located in a gymnasium. Monti displayed the characteristics of a man who was accustomed to moving up the ranks, tossing around commands as if they were well-meaning requests. As he clawed his way to the very top of the ladder, his talents proved to be most useful. Most of them had nothing to do with humility and Christian brotherly love, both virtues that were entirely out of place in the Vatican, should you wish to achieve anything at all there.

  Most of the men in the Curia thought of the new Cardinal Secretary of State as a driving force behind the Holy See just like during Pope Innocence’s reign when Monti was prefect of the Congregation of the Doctrine of Faith. But to his dismay, it was far from the truth.

  The cardinal let a file folder fall onto the large table. Of course, the new Pope once again had objections toward many of his suggestions. It was like that every time. By God, Leo was wreaking havoc in the Church with his immature, unrealistic ideas. One couldn’t just turn a complex system such as the Catholic Church inside out overnight. It was best to leave well enough alone. The system should stay as it is. A collegial Church would mean its downfall. An imperial Church, on the other hand, like the one under Innocence, had a fighting chance in the future. People
needed leadership much more than brotherhood.

  "My dear Sergio, you still claim to be the keeper of fire," Leo had said to him during their morning meeting. "You are still trying, like many of your colleagues, to maintain control. It is not my intention to destroy Innocence’s life’s work, or our Holy Mother Church. But I am going to listen to my inner voice. The words are clear! And you know full well that my predecessor’s advisors are mine as well. What is making you so nervous?"

  Since Leo had spoken so openly, Monti decided not to mince matters either. "Forgive me, Holiness, but it is the political undertone of your interpretation that give me cause for concern. You are the captain of a ship with nearly one billion passengers. There is no democracy on board for good reason."

  Leo responded with a tired, yet warm laugh as he gave Monti a friendly pat on the shoulder. Leo had no idea how repugnant his gesture was to Monti. "No worries. Whenever I catch too much wind, you will know when to pull the sails."

  Monti clenched his teeth and said: "I will do what I can, Holiness."

  The cardinal walked over to one of the large windows and looked down at the Damasus Courtyard. How he yearned for the times under Innocence. How claustrophobic he felt his new position as Cardinal Secretary of State under Leo was. As Grand Inquisitor under Innocence, he had enjoyed much more political influence in the Church than he did now. Even though Innocence and he looked very different on the outside, in the spirit of the imperial Popes they were very close in their strivings to ignore the ambitious goals of the second Vatican Council to deregulate the Church. But those times had changed with Leo’s papacy.

  Monti took a deep breath. Another church dignitary had long since taken over his old function. Naturally, his promotion to Secretary of State was an enormous leap in his career, but he was dissatisfied overall because he was now completely cut off from some of his important sources. At first Monti had felt honoured to have been named Cardinal Secretary of State, but he slowly started to realise that the prefect’s office of the Congregation of the Doctrine of Faith had provided much more freedom and access to information he needed to pursue his goals and plans.