The Secret of Fatima

by Tanous, Peter J;

  “I’m sorry,” she said faintly. “I … I recognized the priest.”

  Toby shook his head. “Oh, really? Another one of your buddies?”

  “Lay off, Toby,” Kevin said. Turning back to MC, he realized she was not just shocked by what had happened. She was in shock.

  “They’re crazy … they’re all crazy,” she said, shaking her head.

  Max said, “You’re just figuring that out?”

  Kevin lowered the volume on the TV and stepped up. “Listen up, everyone. It looks like Opus Mundi isn’t going to stop. They’re hell-bent on killing the pope and getting one of their own as the leader of the Church. We’ve no idea how many more shooters are out there. Unless we put a stop to it, one of them is going to succeed.”

  He turned to MC, who’d buried her face in her hands. “MC, we need to get a list of everyone in Opus Mundi you know.”

  She nodded.

  “Maybe the missing pages to the secret will help,” Toby said.

  Kevin nodded. He didn’t want to let on that he was under orders from the top man. The missing pages couldn’t help because no one would see them. Only the pope could read the missing pages. Oh hell, he thought. Toby won’t mind.

  The group continued to watch the news. CNN replayed the shooting and the pope’s heroic reaction over and over again.

  Finally, Kevin grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

  “We need to plan our mission to get those pages,” Kevin said. “Gather ’round, everyone.” He moved to the kitchen table.

  Kevin started drawing on a yellow legal pad. “Here’s where it is,” he said, pointing to a spot on his drawing. “With a few tools, and a lightweight folding ladder, tomorrow night we’re going in.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Seville, Spain

  Early Sunday morning, Toby and Kevin checked in on their prisoners. They were still tied up and weak. They gave them water and gagged them again. “If you’ve lied to us, Roberto, there’ll be dire consequences,” Toby said.

  “I didn’t lie,” Roberto said. “Please, let us go.”

  “We’ll be back later,” Kevin said.

  Checking their ropes were secure, they left their prisoners and locked the door.

  Kevin and Toby went back to the suite where Max had stayed with MC. Kevin and Max left for Mass at the Cathedral. Since arriving in Seville, they’d not dressed as priests. Today would be no exception. Wearing slacks and a jacket, they looked like ordinary citizens attending Mass. Of course, Kevin and Max had a major objective: to find the missing pages of the secret of Fatima.

  Father Roberto had told them the secret of Fatima was hidden where no one would find it, inside Christopher Columbus’s tomb, in the Cathedral of Seville.

  “Those bastards are ghoulish,” Max commented.

  Entering the cathedral through a side door, Kevin and Max settled in a pew in front of the Capilla Mayor, separated from other rows by a black iron grill facade. Behind the grill stood the altar with six large silver candelabras and behind the altar, the well-known gilded carved altarpiece.

  Kneeling to pray, Kevin couldn’t take his eyes off the gold altarpiece. All he was thinking about was recovering the lost pages of the secret of Fatima.

  Deciding to skip the service, Kevin whispered to Max he was leaving. But before exiting, he turned for a look at Columbus’s tomb. Then he went to the gift shop and bought an oversized book about the cathedral with full-color photos. Only one page interested him: a large four-color photo of the tomb. He waited to examine and study it before returning later that night.

  Returning to the hotel, Kevin paused in a park near the Cathedral to study the photo and read about Christopher Columbus’s resting place. The tomb had been in the cathedral since 1899. Before that, it’d been in Havana. Part of a larger sculpture, the tomb was high up, resting atop the shoulders of four larger-than-life figures representing the four kingdoms of Spain: Aragon, Castile, Leon, and Navarre. It was befittingly majestic.

  Father Roberto had said the missing pages were inside Christopher Columbus’s tomb. But to get to the tomb, Kevin would have to climb above the four towering statues.

  Kevin started back to his hotel, the book tucked under his arm. Entering the suite, he found MC by herself on the living room sofa, sobbing inconsolably. Why was MC always crying? Hard to believe this was the same vixen who’d tried to poison him.

  “What’s wrong?” he implored.

  “Oh Kevin, I need to talk,” she pleaded.

  “Go ahead,” Kevin said, calmly.

  “May I speak to you as my confessor?”

  “No. Let’s just talk.” Kevin sat down by her. Her confessor? He couldn’t be bound by its strict confidentiality.

  “Kevin, as a young nun I had an indiscretion,” she began.

  Kevin thought, So what else is new?

  “There’s a young priest at Opus Mundi from Perugia. His name is Francesco. When I first arrived in Rome, he took me under wing. I was lonely and vulnerable. He was the one who introduced me to Opus Mundi. I joined, mostly because he’d swept me off my feet. We had an affair. I thought I loved him, but reflecting on it now, I was just feminine bait for seduction, and for his recruiting efforts. I think he really just wanted me to join up.”

  “We all make mistakes,” said Kevin. “Why bring that up now?”

  “Because he just called me. He’s scared. He says that Alameda—one of the big OM leaders—accused him of helping me. OM now considers me a traitor; anybody who helps me in turn becomes a traitor.”

  “What’s he scared of, MC?”

  “His life! They’ll kill him! He wants my help. He says OM is planning something big in the States.”

  “In the U.S.?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  If OM’s planning a U.S. operation, it might be retaliation against the Vatican for electing an American pope. On the other hand, Opus Mundi was wildly crazy, erratic, and unpredictably dangerous.

  Kevin took MC’s hand. “Listen MC, call this Francesco, tell him you’ll help him. I want you to fly back to Rome tonight. Toby will find a safe place for you to stay. When we’re finished here tomorrow, we’ll join you there.”

  MC nodded. “I’m frightened, Kevin,” she whimpered putting her arms around him.

  Kevin patted her tenderly on the back. “You’ll be okay. Don’t worry. I’ll make your flight arrangements.”

  Kevin called Toby, who was souvenir shopping near the cathedral. He filled him in. Toby said he knew a safe house in Rome for MC, and he’d arrange for security for her.

  “It’s urgent, Toby. When can you have this for her?” asked Kevin.

  “Is tonight soon enough?” Toby asked.

  “Perfect,” Kevin said.

  “I’ll be back in a few,” said Toby, “and you can tell me about it then. I’m almost finished shopping.”

  “Don’t forget the glow-in-the-dark Mary statues,” Kevin added.

  “You’re right—got ’em.”

  Once back in the suite, it didn’t take long for Toby to make the arrangements. Kevin, Max, and Toby drove MC to the Seville airport for her flight to Rome. Kevin gave her final instructions and a warm embrace.

  MC wiped her eyes and smiled.

  Returning to the hotel for the equipment, they agreed to meet at the cathedral after its ten p.m. closing. Kevin and Toby both dressed all in black, slacks and sweaters. Toby carried the satchel with tools, and Kevin toted the portable ladder, concealed in an oversized nylon artist’s folio. Max was assigned to be the lookout, which suited him. He didn’t like this burglary idea, even if they were retrieving “secret” pages that’d prevent worldwide catastrophe.

  Pointing to the map he’d drawn, Kevin also showed them the picture in the oversized photo book he’d bought. “Here’s where we enter, through this side door,” he said. “It’s a simple lock we can break easily. Max, you stay outside. Good you’re dressed as a priest. No one will question your presence.” Kevin smiled. “Y
ou’ll have a walkie-talkie to warn us if anything goes wrong.”

  Max nodded.

  They left the hotel together and walked to the cathedral separately. Not a soul was on the street. At this late hour, most Spaniards were just starting dinner.

  Near the cathedral, Toby pointed at the Doorway of Forgiveness, located on the quiet Calle Alemanes. The doorway led to a courtyard and a grove of orange trees, a memento left by the Arabs of a different era.

  Max stayed discreetly at a distance, sitting on a bench under the orange trees, clutching his walkie-talkie, just in case.

  In a matter of seconds, Toby unlocked the first door and approached a second door leading from the courtyard into the church. He unlocked it quickly.

  Kevin looked up at the cathedral’s majestic vaults, barely visible in the dark. He motioned to Toby to follow him across one of the middle aisles to the Christopher Columbus monument.

  As they crossed, Kevin blessed himself, glancing at the chancel, the cathedral within the cathedral, where he’d prayed earlier.

  “It’s higher than I’d thought,” Toby commented as they came upon the Columbus monument, his voice echoing resoundingly throughout the empty cathedral. He looked up at the four tall bronze statues carrying the coffin. “Let’s get started,” he whispered, opening his satchel.

  Unzipping the leather portfolio, Toby assembled the aluminum ladder, placing it on the pedestal between two of the bronze statues. Kevin held it steady with one hand, a flashlight in the other. Toby climbed to the top of the coffin.

  “Hand me the crowbar,” he said.

  Lifting it out of the bag, Kevin handed it to Toby. Using both hands, Toby applied pressure on the lid to move it. Once open, Toby stood on top of the small ladder and peered down into the tomb. There was a putrid stench; the smell of death, which mysteriously lingers.

  “Kevin, there’s room for both of us up here.”

  Kevin steadied the ladder and cautiously climbed the three rungs. Now they both stood precariously on the top, peering down into the tomb. To their dismay, they could see nothing but the bony remains of a body wrapped in a dark, decayed, rotting cloth. There was no sign of paper. Or of anything that might contain papers.

  Using a crowbar, Toby calmly and methodically moved the remains. Both Toby and Kevin pointed flashlights on all the corners of the dusty, smelly tomb.

  Nothing.

  “Damn,” Toby said.

  “Wait a minute,” Kevin muttered, aiming his beam on the crown of the head of the leader of Aragon. “Roberto referred to Columbus as capo. In Italian that means ‘head’. Maybe he wasn’t talking about the body of Columbus, but about the hiding place.” Kevin flickered the light around the crown, onto the statue of the leader of Aragon.

  “Okay, let’s have a look. We’ll need to move the ladder.” Toby jumped off first.

  Kevin’s walkie-talkie squawked.

  “Somebody coming!” Max whispered. He was panicking. “Maybe it’s a security guard.”

  Kevin and Toby turned off their flashlights. In the distance they could hear the sound of heavy footsteps. The two quickly scrambled down the monument.

  “They’ve got security sensors,” Toby whispered, pointing to the ceiling. “Let’s hope they don’t call for backup.”

  They darted to the pews in front of the altar. At the end of one of the pews, Kevin knelt quietly. Toby crossed the aisle and positioned himself behind a massive stone pillar. Without moving, they listened carefully to the clickety-clack of the approaching steps. From the direction of the steps, a beam of light was zigzagging up and down.

  Kevin, in plain sight, remained calm, kneeling … praying.

  As the man approached, the beam of light marked Kevin’s back. “You!” the man shouted. “What’re you doing here?”

  Kevin slowly turned around until he was facing the guy. “Praying.” His words were deliberately calm.

  “May I see your identification, señor?”

  “Certainly.” Kevin rose slowly, moving to retrieve a wallet from his jacket.

  Toby was now moving behind the guard. The fellow was rotund, past his prime. This shouldn’t be hard, Toby thought.

  Putting his hand over the man’s mouth, Toby stuck a gun in his back. “Don’t move,” he said in English.

  The guard nodded agreeably.

  Kevin felt sorry for the old guard.

  “Be gentle with him. I’ll finish up,” Kevin said. “Please get him out of the way.”

  With the gun pressed to his back, Toby escorted the guard to the rear of the cathedral. The man’s legs trembled. Toby assured him there’d be no trouble.

  Out of sight, Kevin climbed the ladder until he was facing the statue of Aragon. With both hands, he grabbed the crown, pulling it upward. At first it resisted, then loosened, giving way. Kevin peered into a small crevice on the top of Aragon’s head. Nothing. Scurrying down the ladder, at the bottom he moved it to the next statue, Navarro, and started up again. This time, the crown wouldn’t budge at all. Kevin tried again, but still it wouldn’t budge. He reached for Toby’s crowbar on the second step and tried again. Now the crown moved. Kevin laid it on top of the tomb and pointed his flashlight deep into the opening.

  His heart nearly stopped beating. Oh my God!

  Inside the opening was a leather folder with a wax seal. Kevin exhaled with relief: He knew he’d found what he was looking for. He lifted the folder, replaced the crown, and climbed down.

  Kevin quickly put the tools and the ladder away, and called for Toby, who was waiting at the rear of the cathedral. “Got it!” said Kevin. “C’mon, time to get out of here.”

  Toby directed the guard back to the Christopher Columbus tomb where Kevin was waiting.

  “Check the bag,” Toby said to Kevin. “You’ll find rope and masking tape in there.”

  When Kevin retrieved the rope and masking tape, Toby tied up the guard and pressed the tape over his mouth. He left him in a pew where he could lie down and sleep. He wouldn’t be found until morning.

  “You got it?” asked Toby.

  “Yes, I think I found it,” Kevin whispered.

  “C’mon, then, let’s get the hell out of here!” said Toby.

  The men fled the cathedral the way they’d come in.

  On seeing them, Max, who was pacing in anticipation of the worst, breathed a sigh of relief.

  They walked quickly back to the hotel, excited and relieved to have uncovered the secret pages. Inside the suite, Kevin’s phone buzzed.

  It was Katie. She apologized for calling so late. His first thought was Maggio. But Katie assured him that he was under control. He wasn’t pleased but he had reluctantly accepted the story that Katie couldn’t travel for a while. And, yes, he was still getting billed. Kevin asked about the baby boy.

  “He’s fine, Kevin. The doctors will examine his clubfoot tomorrow. We hope it’s not serious. Anyway, that’s not why I’m calling.”

  There was an awkward silence. Then Katie continued, “I’m sorry to ask this, Kevin, but it’s bothering me.” She paused again. Kevin waited. “Did you tell me the whole truth about your court martial?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure … I just—”

  “Who’s putting you up to this, Katie?”

  “I just want to know the truth. The whole truth. Did you kill an American soldier in Iraq?”

  “I killed a rapist. The rapist’s country of origin, his nationality, is of no importance. The truth is that I didn’t know he was an American when this happened. And I don’t think it would have mattered. Where’s this coming from, Katie?” Kevin’s jaw was clenched.

  “Jimmy told me.”

  While Jimmy’s name sunk in, Kevin paused. “I have nothing else to say about this, Katie, except you might want to ask your boyfriend why he’s digging up dirt on me and recommending questionable clients to you.”

  Silence again.

  “I’m sorry,” Katie said. “Good-bye.”

 
“What was that about?” asked Toby as Kevin pressed his cell’s off button.

  “Nothing,” said Kevin. “Seems like Katie’s fiancé is spinning webs about me.”

  “What webs?” asked Max.

  “Jimmy told her I’d killed an American soldier in Iraq.”

  “Remember, Kev,” said Toby, “I told you that Jimmy Stein guy was snooping around your Army record.”

  “Yeah, I remember. And he also referred Maggio to Katie.”

  “We need to figure out what his game is.”

  “I’ll deal with it.”

  Max was looking at him with big eyes. Kevin was always surprising him.

  Kevin couldn’t think about this right now.

  “Have we heard from MC?” asked Toby.

  “No,” Kevin said. “Let’s wake her up.” He put the phone on speaker.

  MC answered on the first ring. Right away, she assured Kevin she was safe and comfortable, thanks to the safe house Toby had arranged in the Parioli district.

  “Did you see your friend?” Kevin asked.

  “Uh, yes, last night.”

  “Well? What did he say?”

  “Kevin, we have to help him. I promised.”

  “We’ll deal with that later.”

  “He said that Alameda, who he also called Columbo, and some of his people are planning an operation in the United States.”

  Toby said, “Why, MC? Did he say?”

  “I asked,” she replied, a tremor in her voice. “He doesn’t know. He swears he doesn’t.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that,” Kevin said. “We’re coming back tomorrow.”

  “You can’t torture him, Kevin. I know him, he’s telling the truth!”

  Kevin wasn’t about to debate about whether Sister Mary Catherine’s friend was telling her the truth. “I just want to talk to him,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

  In bed that night, Kevin tossed and turned, barely sleeping. They’d stayed up late making travel arrangements to get to Rome the next morning. Toby had suggested getting out of town early, since the guard at the cathedral probably would be found after sunrise. It’d be nearly impossible for the Seville police to trace the incident to them, but it was pointless taking a chance.