by R D Shah
‘Well, I am not sure about the dumb part,’ Harker replied stubbornly, ‘but yes, in the case of this discovery, luck very much played its part, whereas all the other important discoveries I’ve made in my career have been a consequence of following clues – and sometimes you get lucky and at other times you’re met with disappointment.’
‘So you’re more like a detective, really?’
This last comment by McWhicker was no doubt said to offer his guest a stroking of his ego, in the hopes that it might elicit a self-important response.
‘You could say that,’ Harker replied, feeling a bit self-conscious at the notion, ‘but I don’t carry an official badge or anything.’ His remark extracted a laugh from the audience, much to the delight of McWhicker who gave an-over-the top bellow of mirth before turning back to his guests.
‘Right, one more question.’ McWhicker said and once again swivelled his hand across the seated audience before settling on a man in his late twenties wearing a T-shirt reading Conspiracy Theorists Rule. ‘Yes, you, sir.’
‘Professor Harker, isn’t it true that you were involved in a cover-up of the highest level last year at the Vatican?’
The question caught Harker totally by surprise and, after a brief stunned pause, he regained his composure and addressed the man, who was now glaring at him. ‘I’m not sure I follow you?’
‘I mean,’ the young man continued smugly, ‘that you were directly involved in the disappearance of Pope Adrian VII, and in the stories circulated in the media regarding his disclosure to world leaders that the second coming is upon us and that Jesus once more walks the earth?’
Usually when someone voices an outlandish statement, others will immediately take it upon themselves to laugh or shake their heads, but as Harker watched the audience in front of him, he detected not even an ounce of disbelief. In fact, the whole audience appeared riveted, and was staring at him with nothing but keen interest.
A few seconds of silence passed until it was McWhicker who spoke first. ‘If someone in our audience had asked that same question a few years ago, I’d have assumed he was some religious nutcase but, given the current climate, I’d now say it’s a fair question. We’ve all heard the rumours surrounding events at the Vatican last December … the shooting of Cardinal Rocca and these revelations by the Pope regarding the second coming. So, were you involved?’
Harker immediately smelt a rat. One of the provisos agreed to before staging this interview was that there was to be no mention of the speculation that had filled the world’s press several months earlier. It was a proviso that obviously McWhicker had been keen to get around by placing a mole in the audience.
Ever since the dramatic events at the Vatican, the media had been awash with conspiracy theories surrounding the now missing Pope’s disclosure. Every newspaper in the world had been trying to crack the mystery of what had actually occurred. Most of the world leaders had remained silent, though, no doubt not wanting to associate themselves in any way with the story for fear of destroying their own political credibility. No politician was foolish enough to have given an interview regarding the ex-Pope’s declaration that the Christ child was now back on earth and that, in his eyes, this signified a genuine second coming. But still rumours abounded. The majority of the globe had moved on from that event in disbelief, but there were many others who had sunk their teeth into the story and refused, understandably, to let go. The papers had, and still did, consider it newsworthy enough to follow these rumours from a distance and they were still reporting Christ sightings with the same passion which Elvis once received. Furthermore, there had been many serious discussions on legitimate news programmes regarding the dramatic events, and the debate on whether we were really seeing a prophecy come to fruition had become prevalent. Most had scoffed at such an idea but the coverage had nevertheless left an air of uncertainty and curiosity concerning the whole affair, creating very real whispers amongst ordinary people and Christian churches throughout the world. Without proof though it was only gossip, although tinged with a general wish to believe, and that power of belief had proved to be a strong one.
‘I’ve heard the gossip, yes, but, from my understanding, that’s all it is. The shooting at the Vatican shocked us all, as did the disappearance of Pope Adrian, but the one thing I can be certain of is that I myself wasn’t involved in any way. Besides which, if I thought the second coming was a reality, then I can assure you I would be the first to voice it.’ Harker paused for a moment, eyeing the same audience member intently. ‘So, I think you may be taking the slogan on your T-shirt a bit too seriously.’
‘Really,’ the conspiracy theorist, whilst pulling a photograph out from under his seat and holding it up in the air for everyone to see. ‘Then how do you explain this photograph taken on the very same night showing you leaving St Peter’s Basilica just before the shooting, in company with a young girl wrapped in a cardinal’s cloak?’
The cameras immediately zoomed in on the photograph in question, displaying it on all the studio’s monitors, including the one directly behind Harker. The image was in colour and, although somewhat blurred, it clearly showed Harker glancing over his shoulder at the expanse of media covering that night’s event and guiding a woman with long black hair away from the Basilica.
‘Well Professor?’ the same man continued with an accusing stare.
The whole studio had fallen silent, with seconds seeming to evolve into minutes, and Harker felt a nervous flush run through him. It was only slight, though, because thankfully he had prepared an answer to this question months earlier, under the guidance of Brulet, but had never had to voice it. Until now.
‘That’s me all right, but I’m afraid the reason for my being there is going to disappoint you. As some of you may know, I was, at one time, a Catholic priest and I still have many close friends at the Vatican. I asked to attend the event in support of my friend Salvatore Vincenzo who was organising the evening and, as many will know, has since become the new Pope. I brought with me my then girlfriend, but she was sick as a dog after the long flight over and managed to throw up all over her dress, so I took her outside for some fresh air. One of the cardinals was good enough to offer his robe to save her the embarrassment of being photographed by the world’s media with vomit down her front.’ Harker let out an awkward laugh. ‘The good news is that I wasn’t asked to pay for the cleaning bill.’
No sooner had he finished speaking then almost the entire audience raised their arms in unison, and the conspiracy theorist disappeared behind a wall of bodies all wanting to ask the next question. As Harker struggled to hold in the gasp of relief threatening to emerge, it was McWhicker who quelled the tumult by waving his hands in the air. Maybe he was not expecting his ploy of a planted conspiracist to be so completely overshadowed by the rest of the audience.
‘We can’t hope to answer everyone’s question so allow me to pose a few myself.’ He turned to face his guest with a glint of unshakable resolve in his eyes that to Harker seemed almost comical. ‘Professor. I wasn’t going to bring this up but I must be fair to my audience.’ McWhicker managed to sound almost magnanimous. ‘You can’t honestly expect us to believe that obviously well-rehearsed story of yours? I mean the shooting of a cardinal inside St Peter’s and the subsequent absconding of the Pope himself has been one of the biggest stories of the decade. Then the rumours, from credible sources, that the same Pope had been right in the middle of revealing to world leaders his belief that the second coming has already happened,’ McWhicker began shaking his head wildly, ‘and you’re really saying that you know nothing about it, even though you just happened to slip out of the Basilica within minutes of the shooting taking place?’
Harker allowed the studio to fall silent as the talk show host stared at him with eyes full of accusation before finally, after a few uncomfortable moments, replying in the most relaxed tone he could muster. ‘Yes, Vinnie, that is exactly what I am saying. Because it’s the truth. I’m sorry but I don�
�t know what else to tell you except that if there was some alternative agenda, as the man in the audience seems to think, then I am just as uninformed as he is.’
Murmurs of discontent now broke out around the studio as McWhicker clicked his head to the side, no doubt getting word through his earpiece to drop the subject and move on. Begrudgingly he nodded his head. ‘Well, that’s good enough for me,’ he declared and ignoring disbelieving moans from the audience. ‘Professor Alex Harker, thank you for being my guest here tonight.’
Harker offered a courteous nod, then he reached over and shook McWhicker’s bandaged hand squeezing it deliberately tightly until the host winced and pulled back from that tight grasp. Despite gritted teeth he maintained his smile as he turned to address the audience. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, give him a hand.’
The audience managed to respond with a polite patter of applause, though many of the guests were eyeing Harker with a look of distinct mistrust.
‘The Vatican, shootings and throwing up… what a story. But I’m afraid that’s all we have time for in this session of The Midnight Hour. My thanks to all tonight’s guests, and also remember that you can see the new Caesar exhibit for yourself as of next month, so just log on to our website for all the details. Have a good night and I’ll catch you next time.’
The programme’s theme tune had barely begun playing before Harker was out of his seat and off the stage, shooting Doggie an unhappy glare as he began heading straight for the exit. He wanted to get out of there before someone else tried to corner him, and was already reaching for the door handle when a voice sounded from behind.
‘Professor Harker, I need a word.’
Harker snapped his head round to see a man wearing jeans and a leather jacket, who was waving his hand vigorously. He was about to ignore the fellow’s pleas when he then noticed the white dog collar poking out from under his jacket, stopping him in his tracks more through an instilled reaction than a deliberate choice. The man seized this opportunity and hurriedly made his way over.
‘Thank you for waiting.’ The casually dressed priest began. ‘My name is Father John Strasser … and I’m here on behalf of an old friend of yours.’
‘An old friend? Who?’ Harker replied curtly, trying to subdue the anger he still felt at having been ambushed on stage.
‘A friend who needs your help. May we talk somewhere private?’ The priest continued. ‘There’s a coffee shop just around the corner, if that’s suitable?’
Harker glanced back at the ruckus now being created by a small section of the audience, led by the T-shirted guy, who were trying to force their way past the security guards, as Doggie stood waving his arms agitatedly in the air.
‘Of course.’ Harker replied and continued heading out of the exit. ‘Anywhere else but here.’
Chapter 3
Harker raised to his lips the grimy white coffee cup, with the words ‘Meridian Cafe’ printed across it, and took a sip before placing it back down onto the chipped matching saucer with a clink. ‘That’s nasty… tastes like sewage water.’ He gagged visibly before wiping the last traces of the offending liquid from his lips with a paper napkin. ‘Not that I’ve tasted raw sewage mind you but I’m fairly sure that’s how it tastes.’ Harker dropped the napkin down on to the table top and, with a final wince of disgust, he turned his full attention to the man who had guided him to this cafe not five minutes’ walk from the ITV studios. ‘So are you going to reveal who this old friend of mine is, or should we continue with the small talk?’
Harker waited as Father Strasser eyed him with the all the nervousness of a man in the dock. At only five feet two inches in height, the softly spoken priest’s oversized front teeth and hunched posture endowed him with the look of a rodent. The way he clutched his miserable cup of coffee protectively with both gloved hands helped contribute to his remarkably rodent-like appearance, although admittedly, one that was rather old and declawed. But it was the man’s eyes that distinguished him and Harker couldn’t ignore the sparkling intelligence that, clearly, lay behind those light-blue irises.
‘I am working with a group that was specially formed in the wake of your recent exploits,’ Strasser took a moment to anxiously clear his throat, ‘or perhaps the word discoveries is more appropriate. I of course refer to the supposed birth of the Christ child and the subsequent disappearance of his holiness Pope Adrian VII.’
This mention of the pontiff’s title drew a contemptuous scowl from Harker. ‘I think you mean John Wilcox and, believe me, there’s nothing saintly about him.’
‘That may be the case and, for the record, I agree with you,’ Strasser replied with a conciliatory nod. ‘But nonetheless he was elected to the papacy under that name, and it has been deemed appropriate that the title remain.’
‘Appropriate so as to keep things quiet?’ Harker mused sarcastically
‘No Professor Harker – I mean appropriate for the protection of our faith. What would you have us do? Tell the whole world this charlatan conned his way into the highest position in Christendom, before attempting to deceive the entire globe by faking the second coming with a clone of Jesus Christ! And, while we’re at it, why not also disclose to the world that this same pretender then disappeared – along with the child.’
Even though Strasser’s voice remained calm and discreet, his eyes burnt with genuine distress, and it was clear that this priest was still wrestling in his own mind with the consequences of those events.
‘OK, well, maybe I wouldn’t tell them everything.’ Harker offered, not wanting to contribute to the man’s increasing agitation.
‘Some secrets should stay hidden, Professor. Besides which, the decision was not mine to make.’ Father Strasser paused and sucked in a deep breath. ‘But nevertheless it is ours to rectify.’
‘Ours?’ Harker almost spat out the word. ‘I’m not sure I follow you?’
Strasser glanced around the otherwise empty cafe, briefly pausing to study the overweight male member of staff stood at the counter who strangely had his head buried in a copy of Woman’s Own. Satisfied that the man was more concerned with the magazine than with his two remaining customers, Strasser turned back to face their table, rested his elbows on its surface and leant inwards. ‘When it was discovered what John Wilcox had been planning,’ the priest continued offering a courteous nod to Harker at this mention of Adrian VII’s real name, ‘a special council was set up to deal with the implications of Jesus Christ himself once again walking the earth … or perhaps crawling is a more accurate statement.’
The attempt at a joke forced a lame smile out of Harker. ‘Amusing, Father, but what implications exactly? The child was merely a clone copy. This whole second-coming ‘business’ was a charade. It was no more genuine than…’ he pointed to the cup in front of him, ‘… than this cup of coffee!’
Strasser sat still, his eyes fixed on Harker. ‘If I fill a cup with water and that cup has a crack in it then soon the cup will drain away and become empty. But what if I picked up that same cup and tipped the water out myself… the same conclusion would be reached since the cup would still end up empty. So the question is: would the very act of my tipping out the water have had any real bearing on the outcome?’
‘How very Zen of you, Father Strasser,’ Harker joked. ‘You’re wearing the wrong outfit; you should have been a Buddhist.’
Strasser gave a slight shake of the head, his expression resolute and unyielding. ‘I am serious, Professor. Would it have made any difference?’
‘OK, I’ll play along.’ Harker replied, discerning instantly the point that was being made, but not wanting to seem discourteous before this man had reached the conclusion of his analogy. ‘It would at least make a difference to anyone watching the spectacle. That I know.’
‘Maybe so, but it wouldn’t make any difference to the cup itself now, would it.’
‘And the second coming is the cup, right?’ Harker replied, just wanting to make sure they were both on the same page.
> Strasser sat further back into his seat and gave a nod, his eyes full of concern. ‘The fact that this event has been brought about by the hands of man is unimportant. The fact is it has happened, however, and that truth cannot be reversed … which means repercussions.’
‘Repercussions!’ Harker said it so loudly that even the Woman’s Own enthusiast briefly looked their way, before quickly losing interest in them and returning to his magazine for more tips on the female mind.
Harker massaged his brow in frustration, seeking a way of not completely insulting the peculiar little man sitting opposite him. ‘Father Strasser, I think it’s important, before we go any further, that I be totally honest with you concerning my feelings on the subject.’ He took a moment to steal another sip of his rank-tasting coffee, then rolled his shoulders as if limbering up for a fight. ‘Yes, it is true that the plot to fake the second coming of Christ through cloning techniques is without a doubt the most amazing, most crooked, boldest and frankly terrifying idea to gain control of the Catholic church I could ever have dreamt of. It is without doubt the stuff of movies and that it was perpetrated by the very person that sought and succeeded in becoming the Pope, and head of the Catholic world, is nothing short of a dark miracle. But …’ Harker laid both his palms on the table and leant across it. ‘If you really think that tragic scam has anything to do with the reality of Christian doctrine, then I would put it to you, Father, that you are as crazy as the man who started all this.’ Harker pulled away and settled back in his seat, his eyes ablaze with contempt. ‘I myself do not believe that for a second and, if I can be blunt with you Father, were you really to believe that then I would say you’re as loony as Pope Adrian himself!’
Across the table, Strasser maintained his expressionless stare, responding with a voice still calm and confident. ‘Your belief is not a requirement one way or the other and, if it helps, I myself was filled with a similar sentiment.’ The priest replied. ‘That is until the recent incident.’
