The Pope's Suicide

by Steve Richer

  “The only lead we have is to a middleman. We were able to ID him as someone called Alex Houghton. Over the years, we’ve been able to associate him with a number of wire transfers and offshore accounts that we can link to specific murders.”

  “How so?”

  “Like somebody in our system gets whacked out in Brooklyn and a day later some money leaves a bank account we’re watching. Again and again and again, same MO every time.”

  “Okay and? Can’t you bag this guy and make him talk?”

  “Here’s the thing, the guy is a janitor.”

  Donnie creased his brow. “Is that a mob term I don’t know about, like a cleaner?”

  “No, he’s literally a janitor in a building downtown. Like, he cleans toilets and stuff. We know the connection is there, but we’ve been too shorthanded to dig that lead further. It’s not sexy enough for my bosses. They want high profile arrests, not janitors. But I know there’s something there.”

  “On the surface he’s spotless?”

  “Yeah, no criminal records, no history.”

  Leaning into his seat, Donnie crossed his arms and gave the matter some thought. “There has to be something there. What about his kids or wife or ex-wife?”

  Cox sneered. “You wanna give me three other detectives and overtime authorizations? I’ll be glad to find that out for you.”

  Donnie wondered if that was enough to return to One Police Plaza and get his position back on the task force. With this new information, maybe he’d be able to get Galfy to approve the necessary man-hours to investigate this lead. Then again, the US Attorney and Simon Lambright would be more than happy to tell him to fuck off.

  His phone rang and he picked it up automatically without even looking at who the caller was.

  “Beecher.”

  “Donnie! Donnie, it’s me!”

  There was something in his wife’s voice and immediately he straightened up. “Nicole? What’s going on?”

  “Oh my God, we were attacked! We’re driving away!”

  “Whoa, whoa, calm down. What’s going on?”

  “A man was killed in our house,” she said. “They were shooting at us! I think we lost them.”

  “Are you okay? Is Sierra okay?”

  “Yes, yes, we’re fine. I think. Sierra saved our lives.”

  Donnie couldn’t think. He had spent the last few days pondering about politics, assassinations, and convoluted conspiracies. Now none of that mattered. He couldn’t care less about the Pope or international relations.

  “Where are you now, Nicole?”

  “We just left the neighborhood, we’re past the Dollar Tree.”

  Donnie was vaguely aware that Cox and Emma were staring at him, but he paid no attention. He had to think of a solution. It dawned on him that his family was the most important thing in the universe.

  “All right, here’s what I want you to do. You’re gonna go to the 110th precinct, okay? You know where it is? It’s on 43rd Avenue. You’re gonna go there and wait for me. Do you understand, Nicole?”

  “Yes, yes. The 110th precinct, on 43rd Avenue.”

  “Good. Tell the sergeant my name and I’ll be there as fast as possible.”

  As he stood up, Emma reached for his hand. “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know, but I have to leave. My family is in danger.”

  Chapter 44

  Donnie nearly got killed twice as he raced out of Manhattan.

  With his siren blaring and his red and blue lights flashing, he zigzagged through cars and disregarded every traffic law known to man. He was even given the stink eye from an NYPD patrolman, letting him know that he was bound to cause an accident. He ignored him.

  What the hell was going on anyway? His family being attacked? What was the reason behind this? To think that something could happen to Sierra – and Nicole – made his blood curdle.

  He reached the 110th Precinct in Queens in twenty minutes when it usually took double that with traffic. The brick building was old and in a working class residential neighborhood. He didn’t have time to look for parking and stopped in a no parking zone.

  He rushed inside and headed to the desk sergeant. He somewhat recognized the grizzled African-American, but couldn’t remember his name. He flashed his badge.

  “Detective Donnie Beecher from the 19th. Are my wife and daughter here?”

  Christ, he hadn’t even thought to look for the car outside. He would have noticed it, no?

  “Nicole and Sierra, right? They’re here.”

  “Thank God,” Donnie said, feeling drained completely as the relief washed over him. “The hell’s going on?”

  The sergeant came out from behind his desk and took him aside so they could talk in private.

  “They got here about fifteen minutes ago, said they were attacked by a couple of drug dealers. They said that another man that was with them was shot in your house. I sent squad cars over and sure enough they found a body in the kitchen.”

  “Jesus…”

  “I set them up in the break room. They’re pretty shaken. Do you know what’s happening?”

  “I don’t, but you bet I’m gonna find out,” Donnie said before shaking his hand with gratitude.

  The sergeant gave him directions to the break room and Donnie headed there straightaway.

  What he found made him at once sick to his stomach and happier than ever. His wife and daughter were there, safe and sound, but they looked terrified.

  He remembered when Sierra had needed her tonsils removed. Despite the doctors saying that it was a routine operation, he had been scared out of his mind for his little girl. To see her being afraid had been devastating. He felt the same way now.

  Sierra looked up when he walked in and she rushed toward him. “Dad!”

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, astounded at her newfound appreciation for him. She was trembling, but not actually sobbing.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here, you’re safe now.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head.

  He glanced at Nicole. She looked like someone in need of a cigarette although she had stopped smoking years ago. She was chewing on her nails. It wasn’t lost on him that she wasn’t jumping into his arms like their daughter.

  “Are you okay, Nicole?”

  She nodded and shrugged and then nodded again.

  “All right, why don’t you guys tell me what happened?”

  He walked Sierra back to the table where her mother was sitting and made her take a seat. Donnie did the same, pulling a chair so he was facing the both of them.

  “It happened so fast, dad. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine, nobody is blaming you. Look, I know I’ve been a dick for a while. I should have been smarter than that because the last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you or your mom, okay?”

  “I…”

  “It’s okay, Sierra. I won’t judge you. For now, I just need to know what happened so we can make everything right again. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

  On the table were two bottles of water and he guessed the officers had given it to them so they would calm down. Nicole had barely touched hers, but Sierra’s was half empty. Donnie reached for it and handed it to his daughter. She took it, but didn’t drink.

  “I came home to talk to mom and then Ridge showed up.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He was my boyfriend. I broke up with him after that drug thing. Things were getting out of control and I didn’t like it.”

  “That’s my girl. Then what happened?”

  “We went outside to talk, but these two other guys showed up and forced me back into the house. It was Ridge’s boss, Zhirov, and his friend, Boomer. They blame me because when the police caught me I had their Rush-K and I lost it for them.”

  Donnie perked up. “Rush-K? These guys deal Russian koala?”

  �
��Yes,” Sierra replied. “Ridge says that Zhirov is the one importing it in New York. They lost a lot of money when I got caught. They came into the house so you would steal it back for them.”

  “Geez…”

  Donnie let out a long sigh as he thought about this. He was simultaneously happy to get a break in this whole Russian koala business and mortified that his daughter was involved.

  “I’m so sorry, daddy. If I hadn’t been with Ridge then I wouldn’t have gotten mixed up with these drugs, and this never would’ve happened. I mean, Boomer, he just shot Ridge right in front of us for no reason, just to scare us.”

  “It’s okay,” Donnie said, wrapping his arms around his daughter again. “It’s okay.”

  He searched for Nicole’s eyes and nodded to her. She nodded back and he felt relief. She believed him that they were in this together.

  “Here, this might help you catch them.” Before he could ask her what she was talking about, she pulled a phone from her pocket. “It belonged to Ridge so it must have Zhirov’s number on it. You have to catch him, dad.”

  “I will, I promise. But first, I want to take the two of you somewhere safe.”

  He stood up and Sierra followed his lead. He reached for Nicole’s hand and she took it without hesitation.

  He considered letting them stay here at the precinct, but he had no idea how long it would be until they arrested Zhirov and this Boomer guy. The best solution for now was to take them to a hotel. He would go home later and get them some clothes and necessities.

  He pocketed the phone and they walked out the break room. The sergeant caught up with them and Donnie went to talk to him, off to the side.

  “What’s the plan, Detective? We took your wife and daughter’s statements, we have the suspects’ names. Want me to put out a BOLO on them?”

  “No,” Donnie said. “That’s what they’re expecting and I don’t wanna spook them. They most likely went to ground and I wanna give them a little time to feel safe before pouncing.”

  “Fine, your call.”

  He thanked the sergeant and was heading back toward his family when his phone rang. It was Emma.

  “Hey,” he said in greeting. “Now is not really a good time.”

  “Is everything okay, Donnie?”

  He was about to give her a quick rundown of the situation when he decided not to bother. “It’s complicated, I’ll explain later.”

  “Oh, okay. I just wanted to tell you that I convinced Detective Cox to work with us and to research this lead he gave us.”

  As much as Donnie wanted to get back to Sierra and Nicole, curiosity got the best of him. He asked, “And?”

  “Alex Houghton is indeed a janitor at a building in Lower Manhattan. He makes just over thirty thousand a year and yet he has a daughter in a high-priced private school in Connecticut.”

  “Sacrifices for his daughter? Maybe she got a scholarship? That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “We checked,” Emma said with what he was certain was a smile. “Tuition is paid through wire transfers linked to an offshore bank in the Cayman Islands.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line as she gave him time to think about the implications.

  “That means that this Houghton guy is another cutout himself. That’s how he’s getting paid. The money doesn’t go directly to him, it pays for his daughter’s education.”

  “It gets better.”

  Donnie’s eyebrows shot up. “It does? You’re getting good at this storytelling stuff, you know that?”

  “Thank you. Detective Cox went to confront Alex Houghton, he just called me.”

  “And?”

  “It’s like you said, he’s just a middleman. Every once in a while, envelopes show up in his janitor closet. He either has to mail letters, go to banks, or deliver packages. After it’s done, money is deposited to support his daughter and ex-wife. He’s never seen his employer and Detective Cox believes he’s telling the truth.”

  The hope that Donnie had had disappeared in a flash. “Shit.”

  “All might not be lost,” Emma added. “Mr. Houghton said something interesting. Because of how the packages are delivered, the time when they show up, he always suspected that his boss actually works in the same building.”

  “Okay, okay. Now we have something! Find a list of all the tenants in the building. You can get that from the building’s owner. Then go through the IRS for all the employees of these businesses. Get back to the task force and ask for their help. Galfy won’t turn you down when you mention this is related to the Pope’s assassination.”

  He hung up and hurried back to his family.

  Chapter 45

  Colm was still shaking from the revelation about the San Marino letter.

  That was the reason why he was now sitting in a crowded bar in the middle of Rome. He had given up drinking years ago, but everything else seemed irrelevant. He needed a part of his old life back if only to feel normal just one more time.

  He had always laughed at people who said that ignorance was bliss. He believed that one would always be in a better position knowing all facets of a situation. You couldn’t make a smart decision unless you knew everything there was to know.

  But now he was rethinking his position on the matter. Drinking his second beer in twenty minutes, he wished he hadn’t learned about the San Marino letter. Knowing what it was, he now felt a responsibility that weighed heavily on him. If he hadn’t been told, he could have continued to live his life just like before. Now it was different.

  If, as Nigel believed, this document was the reason why Pope Callixtus had been assassinated, then he had a moral obligation to expose the truth. He had done a cursory search to verify some of the facts and everything his friend had told him made sense.

  And because he now knew about this, he was frightened.

  The Holy Father had been killed because of that. Who was to say that Colm wouldn’t be eliminated as well to make sure the secret was buried forever?

  Paranoia was getting to him. Was he being followed? He was a reasonably smart person, he conceived that it was probably just his mind playing tricks on him, but he could swear someone was tailing him.

  Blimey, what had he gotten involved with?! This morning he’d been nothing but a Catholic priest and now he was talking about tails? This was absolutely surreal. Then again, there was a man with a blue jacket at the other end of the bar. It was as if he was keeping an eye on him, periodically stealing glances at him.

  Or maybe he was just going crazy.

  He took another huge gulp of his Peroni and then decided to pace himself. It wasn’t just because it didn’t compare to Guinness, but rather because he wanted to keep his wits about him. He had a decision to make.

  He felt ashamed about the fact that he had been questioning his role and his faith these past few days. Hadn’t he made a promise to be more pious than this? Hadn’t he vowed that he would serve the Church and not become someone who was hungry for power like Cardinal Blanchet?

  Colm had to do what was right, he decided. But what was that anyway? What was better: the Church’s future, Vatican politics, or leading a life of virtue? Were they all interconnected as Blanchet and his ilk claimed? Did the end always justify the means?

  Objectively, with Cardinal Blanchet or Cardinal Zupan as the next pontiff, he couldn’t see the Catholic Church becoming more popular. It would be set back for the foreseeable future. They were both drastic in their leadership, less open and generous.

  So where did that leave him? He had to go back to the teachings of Jesus Himself. He had to follow what he knew in his heart was the right path. He remembered the Bible, James 4:17.

  So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.

  What more did he need to convince him?

  He grabbed his beer and left the bar area, heading toward the back where it was quieter. He couldn’t help himself and saw the man in the blue jacket look his way. Was it a coinciden
ce?

  Pushing these thoughts away, he produced his phone. His newest contact was Emma Aldridge.

  He called her and finished his beer as he waited, anything to steel his resolve. He hadn’t made his choice to call her until now, but ever since he had seen her on TV he had decided this might have been fate. The Lord does work in mysterious ways, after all. So he had sought out her number, just in case.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Emma was back at One Police Plaza. She had been surprised that Donnie’s suggestion had worked.

  Inspector Galfy had agreed with his line of thinking and the task force had swiftly been pressed into crosschecking the IRS files to find out everyone who worked in that building in Lower Manhattan.

  They had just received information from the IRS, but it was raw data and they had to sift through it. Emma had been given a pile of printed documents and she had retired to the smaller office to go through it.

  She felt odd to leave the conference room, but since she was associated with Donnie as far as everyone else was concerned, she believed it was for the best if she wasn’t with them.

  All the names were starting to blur. She didn’t even know what she was searching for. At first, it was just a matter of collating the information. Surely the detectives would know how to proceed afterwards.

  Her phone rang and she wondered if it was Donnie. He hadn’t told her what was going on with his family and she was worried. But it wasn’t him. The number was international.

  “Hello? Officer Aldridge speaking.”

  “Uh, hi. Emma Aldridge?”

  “Yes, who’s this?” she inquired, unable to place the voice or the accent.

  “This is Father Colm O’Dwyer. I don’t know if you remember me.”

  It took her a moment, but soon she was agape. “Colm! Oh my, it’s been ages.”

  “It has, yes? We last saw each other in Mumbai, haven’t we? I hear you’re a police officer now.”

  “Yes, yes. How did you hear about that?”

  Colm chuckled. “Believe it or not, I saw you on television.”

  Her old life cascaded over her.

  Chapter 46