Dan slowly shook his head. He couldn’t allow the charade to proceed. He placed his glass down on the table. “You have got to be joking,” he said, his demeanor suddenly changing. “You were involved in the whole cover-up from the beginning. You were the Vatican. You were their point man. And that hokey speech you gave earlier about returning the gold rings to the museum in Israel. You know, I almost bought it. You managed to tug at our heartstrings. I know Jim and Eian bought it.”
Perluci suddenly looks up from his glass, a look of shock upon his face. “What are you suggesting?”
“Don’t play me,” he said angrily. “Did you think that Licio Gelitoni only spoke with you?
A look of shock spread across Perluci’s face. “You know, Licio?”
“Do I know Licio? Does anybody really know Licio? He first contacted me several weeks ago in regards to the very job you laid out for us. Only he provided a lot more details than you shared. And do you know why? Because I promised him I would screw you out of your share and give it to him.”
“That would be Licio,” said Perluci, grinning. “He’s a bigger bastard than I am.”
Dan continued. “But I needed both sides of the story before I could really start in earnest. Obviously, each of you doesn’t trust the other. But you are both in your early nineties and can’t do the legwork anymore. So you choose to use the guys who screwed you out of Jim’s father’s treasure. You even convinced Licio to agree with you. And here we are.”
“Have you shared the details of Licio’s conversation with your partners, Jim and Eian?
Dan shook his head. “Of course not. I’m only going to share what I needed to share. Remember, I’m the only person who has all of the details. You know half, and Licio the other half. He had to trust me with the information for any chance of recovering the treasure.”
“I see you are about to screw not only your partners, but also Licio?
“No, I won’t screw them. Well, Licio maybe, but not Jim and Eian. Think about it. How long did you think before the others would start to sort this out?”
Perluci nods in agreement. “I am guessing with Licio’s information and now with my information, you alone have the whole story and locations? And all of the, shall we say, players?”
“No, there were a lot of players in this cast. Let’s see. There was yourself, Bormann, Drunz, Myers, and Heber. Now each of you was in Salzburg at the same time after the fall of Berlin. That makes for one hell of a coincidence. But I think Bormann was smart enough to seek your assistance in hope the Vatican could be persuaded to help him escape Europe. Am I right?”
Perluci nods slightly. “I see you have done your homework, no doubt with Licio’s assistance. You missed a few of the players traveling with us but please carry on. I would like to hear your version, or at least what Licio has chosen to share with you.”
A smile graced Dan’s face as he began to speak: “I have to admit you were a crafty bastard. You had them spread some of the gold and silver over several Vatican accounts, some in Switzerland the rest in Vatican City. The rest of the gold and silver lay hidden in two different locations, two different countries. No need to move it. From day one you knew this would be your retirement money. Next, you simply informed the Vatican Refugee Commission of your need for documents for how many? Three? Four? Of course each of them were loyal, German Christians, only trying to escape the violence of their homeland. It was easy enough for the Commission to arrange for phony German refugees to receive Red Cross documents with the support of a local priest. The same priest who just happened to run a Vatican-sponsored charity for European refugees. He also asked no questions and wrote a letter to his personal contact in the International Red Cross, who then issued them passports. With the new documents, you helped them escape first to Genoa Italy, then a ship to Lebanon. Now Paraguay I could understand, but Lebanon? That really threw me for a loop.”
Perluci nods. “Damn it. I knew you were good,” he said. “But you really surprise me on just how good. You are right on all accounts. Yes, I helped those Nazi bastards escape. It was for a price. Both myself and Licio helped them. But, without Licio’s help, nobody would have escaped. Even though he was on the losing end of the war, he controlled information and people. He also knew how to exploit them. Use their vulnerabilities. The man had just about everybody in his back pocket. And to set the record straight: Bormann was a pig. Even someone such as myself despised helping that bastard. Can you believe he actually thought he was in charge? He said since both Goebbels and Goering were dead that he should rightfully be the new Fuhrer. The Fuhrer of what I may ask? The whole country was in ruins. He also had this crazy notion that the Nazi’s would reemerge after the war was over. That’s what the gold and silver was intended for. He always had grandiose plans. Everyone associated with the escape network thought he would be the reason for them getting caught. He was nothing more than an idiot who liked to order everyone about as if he were doing them a favor. I was glad to be rid of him. The banker on the other hand, well, he was the numbers man. He knew the locations of the accounts and the people who controlled them. I also knew I could exploit him one day.”
“I’m guessing to eventually blackmail the banker or his children?”
He nodded once more. “Yes, it sometimes works out that way. Between myself and Licio we had many contacts and employed many resources. Perluci paused. “Are you getting confirmation on your loose ends?” he said sarcastically.
Dan smiles. “Just think of me as your psychologist.”
Perluci shakes his head as he continues. “I have no need to blackmail them; the families of Drunz and Myers both owe me greatly for their respective situations. But they are just the tip of the iceberg. I have many ‘irons in the fire’ as you Americans have a tendency to say.”
“I bet you do. So you control two, very high-powered players,” Dan said, “and one a potential President. I must say, when you develop a plan, you really develop a plan. But enough talk. You confirmed everything I needed to know.” Dan raises his glass once more, tiring of the old Nazi lover’s conversation, just wanting it all to end.
“How long do I have until it takes effect?” Perluci asks in a monotone voice, staring at the glasses amber contents.
“You will fall asleep in 5 to 10 minutes and it will happen shortly thereafter,” Dan replied in a near whisper.
“That’s the way I have always wanted to die; in my sleep,” he said before turning to Dan. “I guess it will look like old Perluci had a heart attack?”
“I’m not a cruel bastard. I don’t want you to suffer. After all, you have been very kind to us, with your disclosure of the treasure and all,” he said cynically.
“Why torment the spider when you already have it in the jar per say, eh? But tell me this, did Jim know about this? Did he approve of your plan to get rid of me?”
Dan shook his head. “No, this was my devious little idea,” he said. “Neither Jim nor Eian know anything about this. I promised Jim’s father on his death bed that I would take care of his son.”
Perluci nods. “And I represent harm to him, yes? And old man like me.”
“It’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s your powerful friends. Those are the bastards that concern me. Between them and the ones you are blackmailing, I want to clean up the loose ends. No witnesses. We can all disappear after this as rich men.”
“I guess you will assume the role of what might be called blackmailer once I am gone? You will control the two grandsons of Hitler’s banker; one a billionaire in Germany and the other potentially the future President of the United States?”
Jim raises his glass to Perluci, readying his toast. “To finding, and returning half the treasure to its rightful owners, and to St. Peter allowing an old Nazi loving bastard like yourself access through the pearly gates.”
Perluci raises his glass, tapping it against Dan’s. “To you getting your just rewards,” he replies, smiling as he places the glass to his lips, pausing a few seconds,
before downing its contents in one gulp.
Perluci hands the glass to Dan. “Of course you’ll want to get rid of the evidence,” he said sarcastically. Perluci than walked over to his leather travel bag, digging through it for several seconds, he withdraws a worn bible before proceeding back to his bed, making himself comfortable. He looks over to Dan, mockingly saluting him with his right hand; “Until we meet again.”
“I am sorry it had to happen this way,” Dan said, his words genuine.
“No, the greed has taken over,” said Perluci. “It happens to all men, both good and bad. But you and I, we are both bastards.”
Dan nods. “Until the next time we meet,” he said. “And let’s hope it’s not in hell.”
Perluci opens his bible to a preselected verse, his favorite, before speaking one last time. “No, it will be in Hell. And I’ll save you a seat,” he says, smiling. “Right next to me.”
CHAPTER 56
ROME, ITALY
The Italian State Police Rome offices were built in Palazzo elegance, an architectural style of the late 19th and early 20th centuries based upon the buildings by wealthy families of the Italian Renaissance. The building itself was praised when it was built in 1880 due to its focus on a symmetrical, corniced design along with its two rows of floor-to-ceiling windows.
Miguel was anxious as he sat fidgeting on a wooden chair adjacent to Antoinette Collini’s desk. Her desk was one of ten on an open floor plan that had a large internal window overlooking a wooden staircase leading down onto the main entrance. The only items that looked to be updated from the buildings 1880 opening were the laptop computers that sat on each of the desks, only two of which were presently occupied.
Miguel kept mumbling over and over again that someone was going to kill him because the Vatican had its long tentacle’s into everything, its people placed everywhere, including this very building.
Antoinette had hoped to interview Miguel more in-depth after the killings in the Church of Santa Maria in Trastevere, but could see she was getting nowhere. “You have to calm down,” said Antoinette, urging him to drink some of the whiskey she now poured into a small tumbler, placing it in front of him. “Drink up, it will relax you.”
“I can’t go home,” he said, looking at Antoinette, the fear apparent on his face, his eyes wide. “They were watching my apartment. They followed me to the Church! My place of worship!”
Antoinette nodded as she held his hand. “It’s okay, I understand,” she said in a motherly tone gleaned from her many years in the State Police. “But who’s watching you? Why would someone want you dead?”
Miguel cast a suspicious eye around the office, not sure whom he could trust before focusing on Antoinette, speaking in a low voice: “The people Maria Celnoleni sent after me.”
Antoinette nodded. “So you still think the President of the Vatican Bank is trying to kill you?”
“I don’t think so, I know so. She had her goons try and kill me today because of what I saw.”
Antoinette starting taking notes using her laptop. “Okay, now we are getting somewhere. What did you see?”
Miguel grabbed the tumbler of whiskey, looking to Antoinette, before downing its contents. Seeing the immediate calming effect it had on him, Antoinette wasted no time in pouring him another. He responded by quickly downing that one before turning the tumbler over on her desk, indicating he was done. He required no more. He smiled in thanks, starting to feel himself once more. “I saw a list that contained the names of some very powerful people and their account balances,” he said, the whiskey working its magic. “I instantly recognized some of the names from the internet and from reading the newspapers. There were a sprinkling of Italians, Germans and even an American on it.”
Antoinette looked to Miguel, a puzzled expression on her face. “The Vatican wants you killed because you saw a list with names on it?”
“This was not just any list. This list contains what the Vatican Bank refers to as “Gem accounts.” The Gem accounts are for some very rich, very powerful people. From what I have been able to piece together, the Vatican Bank allows certain people who, shall we say, need assistance in hiding funds, make their deposit but then they charge them a hefty handling fee of ten percent. The names I saw on the list were Mafioso, some politicians, and even old Nazi’s. The list even stated the amounts in their accounts. Some of them were in the hundreds of millions of Euro’s. But not all of the accounts were listed in currency denominations; the Nazi accounts were listed in silver and gold bullion.”
Antoinette stared at Miguel for a long moment. She recalled the tattoo on the bogus ambulance attendants hand; Sub Deus, or Under God. It was all coming together now. She now realized that the murder of Licio Gelitoni earlier in the day was somehow related to the attempt on Miguel’s life. Toss in what Licio had told her as he lay dying and she had one hell of a conspiracy brewing.
“Okay,” she said in a calming voice. “Let me see if I can call in a few favors and then we can pay this Maria Celnoleni a visit.”
CHAPTER 57
MAY 4, 1945; STROBL, AUSTRIA
A slight chill hung in the alpine night air as the Gold Train slowly rambled along at 10 kilometers per hour, wandering from tunnel-to-tunnel as its crew struggled to dodge Allied air surveillance. Between the thirty-ninth and fortieth railcar, S/S Colonel Manfred Heber, balanced himself on the railcar’s iron ladder as he eyed his watch, realizing they would be in the Strobel Station within the hour.
It was time. They were 25 kilometers east of Salzburg.
As planned, he angled his way forward from his perch on the ladder. Heber had practiced the simple maneuver tens of times on stationary rail cars at his camps rail yard in preparation for this very night but this was his first attempt on a moving train. He was careful to maintain his balance on the coupling as he struggled to reach forward in his effort to pull up the lynch pin linking the trains. Once his hand was on the pin, he now struggled to pull it up, wrapping his leg around the coupling to balance himself, momentarily letting go of the ladder with his other hand to aid him, both hands now heaving up on the pin. The train started to buffet from side-to-side as it crossed over a small bridge. Heber momentarily lost his balance and was tossed to one side, managing to just hold onto the coupling with his legs. “Son of a bitch,” he yelled aloud as he struggled to keep himself from falling, his head only a ½ meter from the track bed. With his right arm he managed to pull himself back up onto the coupling. He realized his haste was the reason for him almost falling from the train, not the bridge. This time he waited until he could see the coupling’s slight movement forward and aft as the engineer adjusted speed to accommodate the many turns, using this slight movement to pull the pin straight up as the movement went aft, decoupling the last two rail cars from the rest of the train. Heber managed to breathe a sigh of relief as the main portion of the train continued on to its next destination while he quickly scrambled up from the coupling to the ladder once more, the ladder adjacent to the train cars manual brake. He quickly spun the iron wheel to the left to apply residual pressure from its air brakes to gradually slow to a predetermined junction where only days before he had hidden two, 5-ton Mercedes trucks. Once again, his practice on stationary rail cars came into play as he was able to use the brake to allow the train cars to basically glide to a stop in a heavily forested area only 100 meters from the trucks hidden location.
Heber’s immediate problem now resided with the Americans. He knew there was a distinct possibility that the Americans had already overrun the area. For all he knew they could be watching the train at that very moment. But it was a chance he was willing to take.
With the trucks now backed up to the first railcar, four of his trusted soldiers hastily rigged a wooden ladder between the lead rail cars open door and the rear of the first truck, enabling them to unload with swift precision. The loading of the second truck was accomplished just as quickly; transferring of the gold, silver, and uranium to both of the trucks
in under four hours’ time. A satisfied Heber stood back with a grin on his face, realizing they were only a 1/2 hour from their initial destination. His plan was coming to fruition. He retrieved two bottles of cheap liquor from the cab of the first truck, right where he left them days before. He tore off several strips of cloth from an old work shirt, soaking the strips with liquor from each respective bottle before stuffing each in the bottles tops. He then lit one then the other. Not wanting to leave behind any evidence, Heber tossed a lit bottle into each rail car, the wooden cars construction enabled the fire to spread easy enough, with flames quickly reaching 10 meters high. This was a chance Heber had to take. It was sure to attract unwanted attention but he envisioned being long gone before anyone had a chance to investigate. Satisfied with his handy work, Heber signaled for his men to climb into one of the truck’s cabs. Each of the men relished the idea of owning a few boxes of gold and a little chalet in Switzerland when the job was complete, this promised to them beforehand by Heber in reward for their services.
Now all they had to do was survive to collect it.
Each truck moved off, one behind the other, Heber driving the lead truck. Blackout caps covering the trucks headlights provided a small horizontal slit of light that barely focused on the road before them. In actuality, the road was no more than a narrow logging path with two worn earthen ruts that provided some base for the wheels. They could manage no more than 20 kilometers per hour due to the roads poor condition. Low hanging branches banged heavily against the trucks windows and canvas tops. They had traveled no more than 100 meters before a loud shrill passed over them exploding just in front of the lead truck, the ground shaking about them. A second explosion soon ripped apart the train car they had just finished unloading sending wooden splinters the size of a man’s fingers in all directions. Gunfire sent tracers above their heads and then the ground around them started to spit up in small chunks of dirt.
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