Lux Domini: Thriller: A Catherine Bell Story

by Alex Thomas

  Perking her ears, Catherine asked: "And that means?"

  "It means that such a progressive order as Lux Domini, a religious, scientific organisation that examines special people and phenomena and overshadows even the Jesuits’ actions and should actually control the controllers, has unified too much power in and of itself." Ciban returned her gaze. "You yourself belonged to the Institute and the order, Catherine. You have since left the order which is why I can presume you know of which I speak."

  "But you are the head of Vatican security."

  The prefect shrugged his shoulders. "I do what I can, but my predecessor slacked off a bit too much. And His Eminence Cardinal Gasperetti who, if you recall, presides over Lux Domini, is extraordinarily careful in his goings-on since I’ve been in office.

  "How was Darius connected to LUKE?" Catherine wanted to know.

  Ciban creased his forehead. "You mean whether or not he was active or passive? Sister, he was your mentor! He directed many of the Institute’s projects with great success."

  "LUKE as well then?" asked Ben.

  "LUKE is top secret and extends well beyond the apostle mystery."

  The young nun couldn’t help but let out a short, painful snort. "Pardon me, but after all that Ben and I have been through in the past few days…what possibly could extend beyond the apostle mystery?"

  "Perhaps your visions will give you the answer one day," said Ciban earnestly. He then added: "As far as I know, LUKE contains the profiles and research results from those psychics whose abilities go well beyond the measure of an average gifted psychic. Darius’ profile must be saved in its database, just like Cardinal Benelli’s. And most likely yours as well, Sister."

  Catherine stared at the cardinal. She had no words in response to what he just told her.

  Ben cleared his throat. "Another thing, Eminence. Could the murderer have gotten the apostles’ identity from LUKE?"

  "Possibly. But it is not very likely."

  "Why not?"

  "Lux does not know the apostles’ identities. Nor do I. The list of names of all spirituals alone would be too complicated to derive the emissaries from it. An apostle could be behind any one of the names."

  The Pope, who seemed to be recovering more and more by the minute, said weakly: "Sister Catherine is convinced that there is no traitor among the apostles."

  Instead of showing relief, Ciban’s face drew dark. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he turned to the young woman. "I should actually be relieved by your statement. But what we are now dealing with is a different, far more worldly problem and earlier as I’d like at that."

  A far more worldly problem? What did Ciban mean by that?

  His mobile phone rang. He answered it. Coelho was on the other end of the line and confirmed Catherine’s intuition. Thea’s body had been hidden at the Grotta di Lourdes. The crime scene had been secured and documented.

  "We have a lot of work to do, Ben," said the prefect. Then he turned to Catherine and the Pope. "I will send Monsignor Rinaldo to you. Now, if you would excuse us."

  70

  The day had turned out even better than the master had dared hope it would. The sixth apostle was dead. The Pope had experienced a recent collapse, even if it wasn’t as strong as he had hoped. And now a messenger stood before him with a small gift revealing something about the new kitchen nun in the papal household. It had taken a certain emphasis before Monsignor Massini finally talked.

  "Thank you. You may go now."

  After the messenger had left, the master opened the sealed envelope and took out the sealed file. When he opened it, his eyes fell onto the photograph, making him hold his breath for a moment.

  Catherine Bell!

  A small world indeed!

  The master scanned the file, stopping at one point or the other: Chicago, primary school for the psychically gifted, Darius, Corona, the Institute, Georgetown University in Washington, Lux Domini. He then passed it on to his protégé Father deRossi. He didn’t have to read every single detail of the file to know who this nun was. With Father Darius’ help she had left Lux Domini and, in Gasperetti’s eyes, had therefore betrayed the order. And now she stood before the Inquisition’s court and not even Marc Ciban seemed to be able to control her.

  The master well remembered a secret meeting between Darius and Gasperetti, two years before the priest had retired. One of his ambitious employees had taped the conversation in the grottos of St. Peter’s Basilica. As he listened to the tapes in his living quarters, the master had been quite astonished.

  "It is nice to see you have time for a meeting, Eminence," Darius had greeted to Cardinal Gasperetti with great calm.

  "You wanted to chat. So here I am," said the cardinal with cool reserve. "What’s it about, Father?"

  "I just learned of Sister Catherine’s intention to leave the order as soon as possible. The request has been sitting on your desk for over a year."

  "Oh, stop it, Father. You know full well that it is quite a complicated process. One can’t just come and go as one pleases."

  "You have no right to deny her leaving."

  "I’m not doing that either. The investigation procedures are underway and…"

  "Since when?"

  "A month ago," answered Gasperetti firmly. "Good Lord, Father. Don’t be like that. You know quite well that Sister Catherine’s case is an extraordinary one. Her unusual gift…" He interrupted himself briefly, then added with a regretful tone: "She is not willing to have the artificially induced amnesia."

  Darius’ voice suddenly turned cold. "We have both experienced what that can mean for the delinquent. A life in the shadows." When Gasperetti did not respond, the priest added: "I would not like it should you continue to place obstacles in her path."

  "Is that a threat?" asked Gasperetti with composure.

  "You know I do not place threats. Never. Neither did His Holiness Pope Innocence."

  The master knew full well that Innocence was one of the hardest men ever to enter the Vatican. Gasperetti knew even better what the hidden message was behind the priest’s words.

  For a moment both men sat in silence.

  "You are asking a lot, Father. You are asking me to break the order’s rule."

  "You needn’t break it, Eminence, just bend it a little."

  Again they sat in silence until Gasperetti finally said with resignation: "I take it you have a plan?"

  "A plan is saying a bit much, Eminence. But I see a possibility for a win-win situation. But we shouldn’t discuss it here."

  Lost in the memory of his conversation with the priest, the master stared off into space while his protégé deRossi continued reading the file. Darius had indeed been willing to go through fire for Sister Catherine. Her provocative criticism of the Church even in Innocence’s time had grabbed the attention of the faith authorities and had brought her before the court and that before Lux could do anything about it. A veritable sensational trial could have come of her interrogation, but the nun was smart enough not to allow the confrontation to escalate. Nothing that went on behind the scenes had leaked to the press, which actually provided rich soil for speculation and rumours to emerge.

  DeRossi, who had studied the file quickly, yet intensely, looked up and said: "This woman has extraordinary psychic abilities."

  Indeed, thought the master, without letting his fury show. He had heard of Catherine’s unusual gift years ago, but now he could hardly believe that this heretic, whom he would have loved to see burned at the stake under Innocence's reign, was a psychic who had managed to replace several apostles’ energy simultaneously, thereby possibly thwarting his plans. It seemed she now stood in the Apostolic Palace under Ciban’s protection, which explained why the trial was taking so long.

  "Don’t allow yourself to be impressed by it, Nicola. Sister Thea and Father Darius had their share of amazing abilities as well."

  With an angry laugh, the master remembered his encounter with Catherine at Benelli�
��s reception. He couldn’t deny that the woman impressed him on some level. She was smart, attractive and arrogant. She hadn’t taken his warning seriously and had caused him great concern several times in his life, just as Darius had. Wasn’t it ironic that this heretic shared his preference for the Sistine Chapel? Darius had casually told him that once when they had met in the Sistine.

  "She is your next target then?"

  The master considered deRossi with a knowing smile. "From this point forward she is the ultimate target. As soon as we have eliminated her, the path will be clear. But we have to be prudent. Most prudent. As you have seen, she is currently living in the Apostolic Palace as Sister Bernadette and belongs to the papal household staff. It will be more than difficult to get to her."

  DeRossi thought for a moment, flipped through the file, then poured the master and himself more wine. "I think I have a solution."

  The master perked his ears. "And that would be?"

  "There is one man in the Vatican that Sister Catherine trusts unconditionally."

  The master scrutinised his protégé with curiosity. He couldn’t possible mean His Eminence Cardinal Ciban. But then it dawned on him what his counterpart meant: "Hawlett!"

  DeRossi closed the file. "He will bring me to Catherine this very day without his even knowing it."

  "Today?"

  "The moment of surprise."

  "How on Earth will you pull it off?"

  The Monsignor explained his idea to the master. He developed a plan that was so brief and concise that, on the heels of the last mission, it sounded quite promising.

  The servant entered, announcing a second messenger, much to the master’s surprise. The young man had barely entered the room, handing him a small sealed envelope, before the servant led him out again.

  The master broke the seal, pulling out an additional envelope. Only after he had broken its seal was he able to pull out a copy of a file and an old colour photograph. The file copy came from the archive of a Catholic orphanage. The photo showed a sleeping baby on a nun’s arm. Next to it stood a priest who smiled pleasantly into the camera: Father Darius. The master stared at the picture as if in a trance. Then he turned it over and read the note that had been written in pen on the backside: February 11, 1977, Catherine.

  What a revelation! What an opportunity!

  This photo could serve as ammunition.

  To deRossi’s amazement, the master looked at the image that the second messenger had brought for several minutes. He seemed to be obsessed with it. Then he said: "My dear Nicola, I have a tiny adjustment to your plan."

  71

  Ben and Ciban sat in the cardinal’s office, strong coffee at hand, mulling through the files with the crime photos that Coelho had additionally provided for them. It was late afternoon. Neither had slept a wink the night before. After the incident in the Apostolic Palace they had watched a rather catastrophic video recording of the crime scene with Thea’s body. In order to avoid a stir, they couldn’t directly illuminate the location. They established a new profile of the perpetrator. Other than the dead body and the photos, they had zero evidence. That was all that they had at the moment. In the meantime, the Vatican had returned to life. Coelho had been able to secure the area surrounding the Grotta di Lourdes by pretending to start a renovation effort to block any errant gardeners and curious tourists’ view. The remainder of the traces had most likely been wiped away.

  "He must have gotten to Sister Thea through the underground parking garage entrance," Ciban had explained to Ben and Coelho as he pointed to a floor plan. "Everything else would have been too risky."

  The commander bent over the maps on Ciban’s conference table, thoroughly taking in the connected routes around the Grotta di Lourdes one more time. "Which would mean he knows the premises very well." Compared to his extraordinary position, he was a rather average looking guy, shorter than Ben, mid-forties, had mousy blonde hair, brown eyes and wore a dark, plain suit. If Ben hadn’t known the level of influence this man had in the Vatican, he would have never noticed his power should he have met him casually on the streets of Rome. The archivist also got the impression that day that despite his expectation, the working relationship between the prefect and the commander of the Vigilanza was very harmonious.

  "Or someone on the inside gave him explicit instructions." Ciban pointed to a worn underground floor plan. "You see right about here a secret underground passageway starts that is nowhere to be seen on any of the maps. We should definitely take a closer look at it. And please be as discreet as possible, otherwise one of our citizens or one of the tourists might think we’re investigating a bomb threat."

  "Are there any other secret passageways that I should know about, Eminence?" asked the Vigilanza commander dryly. He knew full well that the Vatican’s premises was chock full of secret paths in order to get inconspicuously from one place to the next. He himself often used a part of the invisible labyrinth behind the architectonic setting.

  "Not that I know of," answered Ciban just as dryly. "Should you unexpectedly run into another passageway, I would be most grateful if you would let me know."

  A slight smile flit across Coelho’s face. "Most certainly, Eminence. We’ll get to it then."

  "What’s happening with the check on the entry tickets?"

  "No luck yet. But we’re working on it."

  Two men had been tirelessly studying external and new access passes for the Vatican in the past weeks and months. Two had been removed from the investigation: that of Sister Catherine and Sister Bernadette.

  After Coelho left, Ben couldn’t hold himself back any longer. "Back there at His Holiness’ office you had mentioned you were concerned. About what?"

  Ciban left the conference table, approached the small sideboard and poured them both another coffee. "Since the Holy Father himself could hardly be the murderer and we know through Sister Catherine that none of the apostles is behind it, we should be able to tighten the circle of suspects. But I learned a while ago that someone else knows about the Gospel of Judas. It’s that archaeologist who found Pius’ book in the Vatican’s underground cemeteries during one of the digs."

  "An archaeologist found the book?"

  "In the summer of 1943 Mussolini was deposed and in the following September the Germans occupied Rome. In October an SS commando arrived with machine guns at the borders of our city-state. Of course, in order to protect the Holy Father. But Pius feared that the Nazis would occupy the Vatican so he brought a part of his private library to safety in the grottos beneath St. Peter’s Basilica. Through a twist of fate, Dr. Kleier discovered this treasure in September 1978."

  "In September 1978…" said the investigator, lost in thought.

  "On the exact day that Pope John Paul died."

  Ben stared at the cardinal. John Paul’s date of death. The media had had a field day, speculating about how he died. But Ciban gave Ben a look that indicated John Paul’s death had nothing to do with the Gospel of Judas.

  The prefect continued: "Dr. Kleier said he hadn’t broken his vow to the Church and had kept the secret to himself. I have to admit I tend to believe him. The problem is: I don’t like the alternative."

  "Which alternative? Quite frankly I don’t quite follow you, Eminence." Ben knew what an honour it was that Ciban was willing to share with him some of his innermost thoughts.

  The cardinal returned to the conference table, handed Ben a steaming cup of coffee and allowed his gaze to wander indifferently over the map.

  "That Pope Innocence betrayed the apostles to one of his confidants."

  72

  It was shortly after six o’clock when the messenger brought the package of books to Monsignor deRossi’s tiny, elegant flat in Trastevere. Once again the master’s network worked beautifully. DeRossi accepted the package with gratitude, gave him a big tip and unpacked the contents in the kitchen he rarely used. After he had removed the bubble wrap, he discovered that whoever had prepared the delivery had a rather inappr
opriate sense of humour. Inside he found an antique shrink-wrapped copy of Peyrefitte’s The Keys of St. Peter.

  DeRossi took the book into the living room and flipped on the television. While he followed the news, he removed the nearly tear proof wrapping and opened the book cover. At first glance there was nothing special about the volume. It was only after he flipped another one hundred pages that he noticed Peyrefitte’s book was hollowed out in the middle as if it were an original cigar box. The work itself was of no interest to deRossi. He was much more fascinated by the well-packaged contents, the tiny technical device that hid within it.

  He quickly pulled out the mobile phone, removed the shrink-wrap, and checked whether it was working by calling his landline. As he expected, the old cabled telephone in the tiny hallway rang once. When deRossi was satisfied that everything was working properly, he leaned back in his television recliner. He would only make one other call – it was the whole reason this tiny technical wonder had been designed in the first place.

  Satisfied, he took a sip of the coffee he had prepared before the messenger had arrived. The fact that the coffee was now lukewarm didn’t bother him in the least. He only cared about its effects. It was going to be a long night.

  73

  It was late in the evening. The nuns and Leo had long since retired to their rooms. Catherine had also retired to her remote chamber, had removed her disguise and had tried to work on her new book. But despite her very best efforts she couldn’t concentrate on the material and so she switched off her laptop and took a walk along the papal rooftop terrace. Perhaps she would get into her writing a bit later, but for now, it was out of the question.

  During her stroll the events of the past day ran through her mind again. Half an hour after Ben and Ciban had left, Monsignor Rinaldo appeared in the Pope’s living room to keep them both company. The prefect had let him in on part of the deal and he appeared to have been well instructed because he did his job without comment. In the interim Leo had regained his strength. It was amazing how much Benelli’s and Catherine’s energy revived him. No outsider would have noticed that the Pope had actually been considerably weakened.