“Well, you may be right,” Nora said. “And, I hate saying that about you. But I have one more piece of the puzzle that falls into place. It’s the biggest of all.”
Jim waited patiently. “Don’t keep me hanging here.”
“We have confirmation that Hitler and Bormann had accounts here at the Vatican Bank; very big accounts at the bank. I was in the room when the police questioned Maria Celnoleni about the list. So I’m 100% positive. And after the State Police arrested Maria, I happened to be in her office all by my lonesome. I found on a notepad two names that she either called today or was going to call; James Myers and Mikel Drunz. And below their names was something about Gem Accounts.”
Jim now had all the confirmation he required that Perluci’s story was, indeed, factual. The old guy was telling the truth, thought Jim. “Okay, as we planned, you go to Jerusalem to meet your contact and then in three days we will meet in Lebanon.”
Nora nodded. “Are you kidding me? I’m on my way to the airport as we speak.”
CHAPTER 63
THE VATICAN
POPE FRANCIS’s PRIVATE LIBRARY
Pope Francis moved with all the grace of a man his age as his male secretaries and the lay women whom he referred to as his ‘family’ swirled busily about him in his private library, greeting the lucky 25 pilgrims who were selected to represent the thousands who had come to pay their respects.
The Pope’s private library was a vast room. First established in 1475, it held some 75,000 manuscripts and more than one million printed books making it the largest private library in the world. He rarely held greetings in his personal library but today was different. He felt the need to be near one of the buildings bedrooms if he required a rest. The day in, day out grind of his demanding daily routine was beginning to wear on him. Unfortunately at his advanced age his body felt more and more the desire for a twice daily, fifteen minute nap. His personal physician warned him in no uncertain terms that if he desired to live another year he had to cut back his schedule to half days. But how could he? Today he had a full schedule including much of what his staff referred to as ‘Rimettiti presto’ or ‘Get well-wishers’. People who just wanted to personally wish the Pope well for battling his recent illness, an illness that had many thinking the end was near. A miraculous recovery after several weeks of bed rest put an end to the death speculation. Then the news of Licio Gelitoni’s murder hit the Pope hard. He was a close personal friend who had dined with him on many occasions in his apartment. One of his few, close personal friends who were still alive, at least until this morning. When he was made aware of Licio’s death the Pope still wanted to maintain his schedule. He had to, realizing many of his ‘Rimettiti presto’ had come from afar just to get a glimpse of him, and he was one not to disappoint. He knew Licio controlled many Papal accounts, both legal and, some illegal. All of the illegal accounts he had no real knowledge of and preferred it that way. All businesses kept a secret stash of cash in case of emergency and this was no different. But Licio was the only person who controlled and distributed it. At their dinner several nights ago, Licio informed him of the amount in the accounts, the amount a lot larger than he had ever anticipated.
In the Billions of Euros.
This was an abomination to Pope Francis when it was disclosed to him. He had no way of knowing this. The many layers of bureaucracy precluded this. It was now clear he needed to announce a major reform of the Vatican Bank. He wanted to break from the “old Vatican” and their sometimes corrupt dealings. Now more than ever he wanted reform in the worst way. But they also had to be effective and able “to generate revenue.” If they couldn’t generate revenue, they, like any business, would wither and die. He planned to reform the management of Vatican assets, transferring them to a new body, the Vatican Asset Management or as it was commonly referred to, VAM. The VAM would handle all assets, including the estimated $120 billion euro art collection spread over thirty Vatican City buildings and they would also be responsible for management of the Vatican Bank. The Vatican bank held over 20,000 accounts, of which 3,100 were dormant, with holdings in the Billions. The dormant accounts were the key. As he had suspected from the beginning, the accounts contained hidden wealth squirreled away by Nazi’s and criminals, some dead but most not. Gem Accounts. Licio had said they were called Gem Accounts. The Pope wanted them seized and the wealth redistributed amongst the world’s poor. That was the Pope’s goal; get rid of the past and start anew.
Licio knew some of the holders of the dormant accounts would not sit idly by while the Pope freely gave away their assets. Those still alive contacted the Vatican Bank president when they heard of the Pope’s idealist threat. Maria had assured them she would take care of their money. Well, she and Licio would take care of their accounts.
The list of the dormant account’s holders was the list Maria’s secretary, Miguel, had seen earlier. It held many powerful names but due to the Vatican Bank secrecy laws, could not be disclosed to any foreign government probes seeking to enrich their own tax base.
It was a list that could get someone killed if disclosed.
It was also a list that could potentially destroy the Vatican.
TO THOSE WHOM THE Pope wholeheartedly greeted, a Vatican approved photographer readily snapped a quick keepsake photo, and then several encouraging words were exchanged before everything was repeated for the next in-line. The Popes smile was ever present. His handshake always firm. His eyes looked directly at each person as if they were the only two people in the room.
No one suspected the heavy burden the Pope was carrying about him.
Only the Pope and a select few in his “family” realized the real repercussions of Licio’s death and how they could rock the church’s very foundation, something not seen since WWII when an intrepid reporter from the New York Times uncovered a story that several high-ranking bishops and priests were accused of helping top Nazis escape justice at the end of the war. They organized Nazi escape routes or as they were more commonly known as, ‘rat lines’.
Then again, Licio was linked to the same story. He had originally helped set up the rat lines with the help of Antonio Perluci, who until a several months ago ran the Vatican Intelligence Bureau out of his Rome office; the same Perluci who had failed them in the past year. He let the Vatican name be smeared with the James Dieter case. Millions in Nazi gold tied to the Vatican in WWII were stolen from under their very noses. Gold that should have been under lock and key in a Vatican vault instead was discovered buried on the James Dieter’s family farm. Now with Licio murdered and Perluci missing somewhere in America, he had hoped for this WWII mess to just disappear.
There was no time to waste. As soon as Licio’s death was confirmed, a select team of Vatican Agents quickly descended on Licio’s Sistine district apartment. They had to make sure nothing was left behind that could incriminate the Vatican in any way. His laptop, phone, paper records, they were the first to be taken from the room for analysis at one of the Vatican’s many Profondità, or in-depth rooms. The in-depth rooms were had been stood up by Vatican Intelligence officers on orders of the Pope to conduct both offensive and defensive cyber-attacks. There, his experts could view what Licio had maintained on his systems and retrieve anything of value which may be there. A man as sly as Licio hadn’t survived this long by operating as a normal person. This most likely would be only the first layer of a very complex operation.
But that’s why the Vatican employed its cyber force.
THE POPE HAD NUMEROUS pressing matters to worry about on this day. At the very top of his list, he had the American Ambassador to Lebanon stopping by for an informal visit on his way back from Washington DC to Beirut. This is the same visit that the President of the United States had personally pleaded with him to accept only hours before. The President alluded to a discussion entailing Vatican assistance with a little known Lebanese connection to an operation from the end of WWII. The Pope was briefed on the operation only weeks after he became the de-f
acto Pope, this by Antonio Perluci who at the time was the head of the Vatican Intelligence Force. By an unwritten law, only three Vatican personnel at any time were known to possess this specific information: the Pope, his head of intelligence, and the Vatican’s Secretary of State, in effect the Popes second in command. The Secretary of State operated in the capacity as a cardinal who oversees the Vatican's relations with other countries and has served as the top ranking official in the Papal bureaucracy since the 17th century. In recent decades the office accumulated increasing authority over finances and job hires, taking on roles such as prime minister and chief of staff in the papal court, as well as that of top Vatican diplomat.
Pope Francis knew the “informal” visit would entail some demands from the Americans and concessions on the Vatican’s side. Now that he was aware of the Vatican’s connection to the Lebanese situation at the end of WWII, he had no doubt the Americans would press the issue, threatening to release the facts to the worldwide press if they did not cooperate.
This was exactly the situation Licio Gelitoni had been able to contain since the end of the war. In the past, one call to Licio would have squashed any information request. Now, his body isn’t even in the ground yet and the Americans were using this to their advantage. He wanted to say aloud a word he had not uttered in years but thought better of it.
Pope Francis blessed himself as he looked to the line of well-wishers. His head of Papal Security noticed the burden the Licio murder had placed on his Eminence. He looked exhausted. He had to do something that his Eminence would never approve. It was imperative that it be accomplished quickly. He walked over to one of his assistants. From his pocket he extracted a plain white business card with the name Enrico Costa and his cell phone number under it. He hands the card to his assistant. “Call this number, ask for this man. When you reach him tell him, The Falcon eats the Mouse at the Public Security Offices.”
The assistant had a perplexed look on his face.
The head of security smiled at the middle-aged assistant. “Don’t worry. Just tell him exactly what I told you. The Falcon eats the Mouse at the Public Security Offices. He will know what to do.”
The assistant nodded before quickly excusing himself.
THE FARM RUSSO WAS set amongst the rolling hills of Arquata and Colcimino, in the Montefalco area of Umbria, an area famous for its fine wines. It covered an impressive area of about 40 hectares of land with 30 dedicated to vineyards and 10 to olive groves, famous since roman times for its high quality olive oil and wine. The winery itself was set in an old convent of the Friars Celestine, built on Roman ruins thousands of years old.
It also required a lot of work; and a lot of money for its upkeep.
A solitary hunched figure walked in from yet another early morning of tending his vines and planting some new ones. Never enough time in the day to accomplish everything that had to be done, there was always work to do. Enrico Costa swatted away the gnats that seemed to follow him everywhere. His long, slender nose was set above a full crooked mouth where a cigarette dangled from its corner. Head shaven bald, the perpetually tanned Enrico had retired to his farm only two years before. He took the money and ran. After many years of working for the likes of Antonio Perluci and Licio Gelitoni he decided it was time to get out while he still was alive. Those bastards would find a way to get him killed in one of their many schemes working for the Vatican. Approaching 60 years of age, he decided it best to just walk away. His wife had died of cancer several years before and he decided enough was enough.
As he walked towards the farms bottling room, one of his employees ran over waving a cell phone. “Signore, Costa, you have a call from the Vatican,” he said excitedly. “Maybe it’s his Eminence? Yes?”
Enrico nodded politely to the man before taking the phone. “This is Enrico,” he said firmly. “How may I be of assistance?”
The middle-aged assistant identified himself before restating exactly what his boss had said, “The Falcon eats the Mouse at the Public Security Offices.” He waited for Enrico to confirm the message but hearing no response.
Enrico stood looking at the phone for several seconds. He then started to perspire. He knew what he had to do. Only one person knew the code: the head of Papal security. It must be something very damaging for them to call him out of retirement.
The assistant repeated himself. “The Falcon eats the Mouse at the Public Security Offices,” he said in a more forceful voice.
“I heard you the first time,” replied Enrico apologetically before hanging up. Enrico now bound up the steps to his bedroom closing the door behind him; he then proceeded to open his wall safe. He extracted a thin, tan envelope, one of seven in his safe, each with a different code word on its front, and each sealed in a red wax with the Vatican crest. The one he held in his hands had the word Mouse emblazoned across its top in big bold lettering. He proceeded to open it, reading the document quickly and carefully. After several minutes it fell from his hands and floated to the wooden floor.
“Why?” he mumbled to himself, knowing that if he didn’t follow through with the request, he realized he would soon be next.
CHAPTER 65
ROME, ITALY
After four hours of refusing to answer any of Antoinette Collini’s harsh questioning, Maria Celnoleni was free to exit the Commissariati di Pubblica Sicurezza or as they were more commonly known, Public Security Offices. She was told to report back the next morning at 9am with her lawyer, at which time she would most likely be charged with a litany of crimes, most of which had yet to be fully determined.
How could her world be crumbling around her? She thought as she walked down the white marble steps. First her uncle, Licio Gelitoni, was killed by unknown assailants in broad daylight. Now, she was on the verge of going to prison. She stopped dead at the bottom of the steps when it finally hit her: somebody was setting them up. Somebody was setting her up.
Maria suddenly realized she had no choice. With the truth about Licio being her uncle uncovered and his suspicious death, she had no one to turn to for assistance. He was the one who could call in a favor and have charges disappear in an instant.
The Italian State Police wanted access to her books at the Vatican Bank. They would lessen the charges if she were to turn evidence against the Vatican Bank. But she knew, as a sovereign nation, the Vatican could refuse, once again, to open its books to another country’s policing authority. But Maria realized she had little time before she would wind up like Calvi, one of her Vatican Bank predecessors, swinging by a rope under a bridge, money stuffed in his mouth, bricks in his pockets, in what was deemed a suicide by Scotland Yard.
ACROSS THE STREET from the Public Security Offices, on a the roof-top of a non-descript five-story apartment building, Enrico Costa, or as he was better known The Falcon, was already in position. He debated performing one last job but he knew he would be next if he didn’t follow through with the request.
He wisely chose to play his role as assassin one last time.
Since he first received the phone call that placed him into motion, he had only two and a half hours to get into a decent shooting position. He had no trouble locating The Mouse, Vatican Bank President, Maria Celnoleni; Vatican officials had texted her exact location.
Enrico was a proven professional with over thirty-two hits and ten so-called ‘staged accidents’ to his credit. Even though semi-retired, he kept several ‘go bags’ in his bedroom closet that contained all of his essential equipment. Equipment that for the most part focused on him killing his target; exactly what he had planned for Maria. If all went according to plan, and he didn’t miss his express train, he would be back on his farm in three hours; a grand total of five and a half hours since first receiving the job.
When he first started out so many years ago, it would take days, even weeks to visit a potential site and then settle on a shooting platform. Technology changed all of that. Now it was down to a matter of hours. After he had hung up the phone he quickly g
oogled the Public Security Offices site, looking for the best place to set up shop, even walking the route through Google Browse Street View Images.
How technology had transformed things over the course of 30 years, he thought.
MARIA MADE A LEFT and walked towards the corner cabstand. As she did, she started to consider the appeal by Antoinette. Maybe she could turn over the Vatican Bank books to accept leniency? Maybe they could place her in a witness protection program? She could return to the Bank and gather all of the records she needed to make her case. That was, if she still had access. But just imagine, she thought, all that I could disclose about the Vatican Banks secrets? What about its illicit actions from World War II? I might even be considered a hero.
There was only one way to find out.
ENRICO ADJUSTED THE scope on his Italian army standard issue SAKO-TRG 42 sniper rifle. He drew a bead on his target, Maria, as she walked to a cabstand on the corner. As Maria reached for the cabs door, Enrico pulled the trigger sending a .338 Lupua magnum round coursing down at 880 feet per second and into Maria’s head, the force of the bullet hurling her body back up and onto the sidewalk, dead.
Enrico swiftly and efficiently disassembled his tools of the trade and packed up. He hoped to make the 4:15 train.
After all, it was his turn to make dinner.
CHAPTER 66
PRESENT DAY – BERLIN, GERMANY
Dawn broke over a sleepy Berlin. The streets were just starting to awaken as shopkeepers tugged on heavy metal gates that covered ornate window displays as Mikel Drunz stepped from the Gossamer Bank and into his awaiting Black Mercedes Limousine, nodding curtly to his driver to move on.
The Vatican's Last Secret Page 37
