The Pope's Suicide
Page 24
The assassin was thrown backwards, the top of his head exploding in a bloody mass of flesh. His body landed with a deaf thud.
“Jesus…” Donnie mumbled.
Wanting to make sure that this was actually over, he got up and limped to the three corpses. They were all dead.
As he paused to catch his breath, still unwilling to holster his weapon, police cars raced over. There were already a dozen uniforms milling around, scanning the area with their flashlights and guns. A SWAT team arrived at the same time, doing the same thing. Finally, Deputy Inspector Galfy jogged to Donnie.
“Are you all right, Detective?”
“I am now. What took you so long? There was a waiting line at Krispy Kreme or something?”
“We headed over as soon as we heard gunshots. There was a car riddled with bullets. Your handiwork?”
“You could say that. What about Officer Aldridge? You have any news?”
Galfy nodded. “She’s on route to the hospital. Word is that she’s stable.”
“That’s great,” Donnie said, feeling relieved for the first time tonight.
“You want to give me a summary of the situation, Detective?”
“How about I put everything in a nice report for you later, okay? I’ll have it all typed up and I’ll answer questions from anyone you want short of the Easter Bunny. How about that?”
Galfy frowned, about to reprimand him, but then smiled. “All right, you earned it.”
He walked away and Donnie didn’t know how to feel. He was still filled with adrenaline and Emma wasn’t out of the woods. On top of that, what he wanted the most right now was to be with his family again.
He felt something in his pocket. It was a vibration of some sort, though not like how his phone usually buzzed. He realized it was Emma’s phone and he pulled it out.
She had a new email notification. He didn’t want to pry, but at the same time he was curious. He checked the message. It was Father Colm O’Dwyer again. The email offered proof that corroborated what Wallenberg had said. A Wall Street banker really seemed to be behind the Pope’s assassination.
“Are you okay?” a paramedic asked as she rushed over to him.
Before he could answer, the woman was applying gauze to his face and wiping off blood. Donnie hadn’t even known he’d been hurt.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m really fine.”
And that was the truth. He hadn’t felt this good in ages.
Chapter 54
“This way, please.”
Colm bolted up from his chair and nodded to Amadeo Besozzi who had remained in place as the Papal Butler. He followed him through the sumptuous Apostolic Palace. The vaulted ceiling had to be twenty-five feet high and there wasn’t one corner that was the same as another, every square inch a Renaissance masterpiece.
So much had changed in the last few weeks. Colm hadn’t spent more than a day in the dungeons below the Swiss Guards barracks. As soon as the New York Police Department had officially made revelations about the San Marino letter and how a prominent cardinal was behind it being leaked, the Irishman had been released.
And from there, events unfurled even faster. Cardinal Zupan had been quick to denounce Blanchet and this backfired. With the College of Cardinals in town for the funeral, everyone knew that they had to take the high road. Within a day, both Zupan and Blanchet had become pariahs.
In fact, the conclave lasted only a day before the white smoke materialized above the Sistine Chapel. Cardinal Velasquez had been unanimously chosen as the next Pope.
“Here you go, Father,” Amadeo said before opening a door.
Colm thanked him and went inside a sitting room. Eight armchairs were arranged in a circle and Cardinal Velasquez – Pope Marcellus III now – was sitting in one of them, his legs crossed nonchalantly. He was looking at his iPad and he had headphones on. He looked up at the visitor and brightened up.
“Oh, hello! Come here, you have to see this.”
Not knowing what to expect, Colm went over, conscious that he was alone with the new pontiff.
“Look.” The Pope removed the earbuds and angled the tablet so the young man could see. It was a video of cats outfitted with tiny musical instruments and pretending to be playing along Iron Maiden’s Running Free. “This is great, yes?”
Colm laughed. “It is, Your Holiness.”
“I never get tired of these videos,” Pope Marcellus said as he put the iPad away. “So… It looks like you have performed a great service to the Church.”
“I only did what I thought was right, Your Holiness.”
The older man groaned. “Ugh, I don’t think I will ever get used to being called that. I almost refused the conclave’s decision, did you know that?”
“Yes,” Colm said. “I’ve heard rumors. But if I may say so, I think you’ll do a fantastic job as our Holy Father. After the tragedy of losing Pope Callixtus, you are exactly what the Church and its disciples need.”
“Thank you, Father. Or should I say Monsignor?”
“Excuse me?”
“I am meeting with the prefect of the Congregation for Bishops tomorrow morning and I intend to have you appointed bishop. Of course, my hope is that you will stay here at the Vatican and help me with the transition. I am most interested in the ideas formulated in the San Marino letter. But if you prefer to return to a provincial diocese, I will support your decision as well.”
Colm was speechless. His dreams of going back to Ireland to reform the Church and its relation with parishioners and young people were coming back to him. His dreams were coming true.
“Well? Is that something you want or should I go back to my cat videos?”
“Yes!” Colm explained. “Yes, thank you!”
He couldn’t believe that he was getting what he’d always desired, all because he had done the right thing.
~ ~ ~ ~
At the same time, it was early afternoon in New York City.
Donnie felt weird walking through the hospital hallways carrying a bottle of scotch. He kept getting odd looks, as if he was a monster for not bringing flowers or chocolate.
He didn’t let that kill his good mood though. He’d just gotten word that he would be awarded the Combat Cross for how he had taken down Wallenberg.
But more than that, he was happy that crime had fallen steadily since Zhirov was no longer importing Russian koala. Sure, somebody would ultimately step in to fill the void, but the Organized Crime Bureau now knew what to look for.
The one sour note was that the FBI and US Attorney Chauvin were taking the credit for uncovering the conspiracy against the Pope. They had raided the offices of Quasney Olympus Financial in Lower Manhattan, but it was at the airport that they’d caught John Moses, just as he was boarding a chartered jet to leave the country.
He had then confessed to everything, scared out of his wits when he was informed that the Knuth brothers would dime him out. Moses was young and ambitious, he had never even hesitated to order the Pope’s assassination when he saw that it could affect his upward mobility. To his credit, Chauvin hadn’t given him much of a plea deal. The money manager would spend the rest of his life in prison, like the Knuth brothers.
Donnie read the room numbers, but it was the sound of laughter he should have followed. As he approached room 416, the door was open and a dozen cheerful kids were standing around a bed. Lying down on it was Emma.
He watched her as he slowly walked in. She was in good spirits and color was back in her cheeks. She was only connected to an IV bag now which was a nice change from the respirator and cardiac monitor she’d been on at first, before the surgeries that saved her life.
“All right, boys and girls,” an older woman said, corralling the children out. “Let’s give Officer Aldridge some time to rest, okay?”
“Bye!” the third-graders said together, waving.
“Bye, guys. Thank you so much for coming. Thanks, Mrs. Thole. It was great to see you.”
Donnie steppe
d aside while they left and then came closer to the bed.
“What’s this? I didn’t know you had a fan club? How does it work? Is there a monthly fee?”
“What can I say?” Emma said with an amused shrug. “I’m a popular girl.”
“I’ll say! Here, this is for you.”
Donnie placed the bottle of Johnnie Walker Black on the nightstand.
“Scotch?”
“It helps after surgery, every cop knows that. Look it up, it’s in the manual. Besides, you’ll thank me later after you taste it.”
She chuckled good-naturedly. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“It was either this or a Schwarzenegger movie, but you already own all of them.”
“Thank you, Donnie. You didn’t have to come, you know. You’ve been here enough as it is.”
It was true. Donnie had dropped by every day the first week after she’d been shot. He hadn’t started to space out his visits until she had told him to.
“Forget about it.”
“And thank you,” she repeated. “For saving my life, I mean.”
“What are you talking about? You pushed me out of the way and got shot in the chest for your trouble.” Word around the precinct was that she was going to receive the New York City Police Department Medal of Honor for her bravery. “I owe you my life, Emma.”
She shook her head. “They tell me what you did. I was dead and still you persisted with CPR. Most people wouldn’t have continued.”
“I did what anybody would’ve done.”
“No, I think what you had was faith, Donnie. You had faith that it would all work out no matter what. You don’t know it, but you still have faith in some things. That’s a very good start.”
She looked at him smugly and he rolled her eyes. He hated the possibility that she was right.
“Stop it with this crap, okay? Otherwise I’m liable to open your present and drink it all myself.”
She reached for his hand. “Thank you.”
“And thank you as well, Officer Aldridge. Let’s call it square, all right? I came here for another reason.”
“What?”
“How would you like to make detective? I know a guy who knows a guy who owes a favor to another guy. I wouldn’t mind having you as a partner. What do you say? The two of us kicking butt and solving crimes. You can be Lacey. Or Cagney.”
“Cagney and Lacey? Just how old are you, Donnie?”
“I’m ancient. Come on, what do you think?”
“That’s very generous – and very tempting – but if it’s all right I would like to return to the Juvenile Justice Division when I get out of here. I miss being with kids, making a difference.”
“Fair enough. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
They kept talking for a few more minutes until they were interrupted by a phone call. Father Colm O’Dwyer wanted to let her know he was going to be appointed bishop. A second later, Emma was making plans to visit him in Ireland.
Donnie took that as his cue to leave and waved goodbye, promising to stay in touch. He went downstairs, left the hospital, and stepped into the comforting warmth of early summer.
Just off the entrance was a little park of sorts, with benches and flowers. Nicole and Sierra were sitting side by side, enjoying the sunshine as if they were at the beach.
It was good to see them together like this. They looked cheerful and he believed they actually were. The reason they were here was that Nicole had just had her last meeting with her oncologist.
The results of her latest tests were encouraging. There was no more trace of cancer. The doctor said that he was cautiously optimistic that it wouldn’t come back and that was good enough for Donnie. His wife was healthier than she’d been in years and, more than anything, she seemed happy.
She stood up as she saw him coming her way. She went to him and they held hands while Sierra jumped on her phone, launching into an animated discussion with a friend about something she’d seen on Instagram.
“What happens now, Donnie?”
“What happens is that I hope you forgive me for the last couple of years.”
“Only if you forgive me, too.”
“Done,” he said. “What happened lately, it made me realize I never stopped loving you. It’d be kinda neat if you gave me another chance.”
She smiled and stepped closer to him. “Done.”
She rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. Donnie felt twenty years younger and held her tightly in his arms. He had faith that they could start over. He wanted to groan at the thought. As much as he hated it, Emma was right.
With the tiniest amount of faith, you could accomplish anything.
THE END
Author’s Note
This novel is bound to be controversial by its very nature. It wasn’t the intention. I wanted to craft a story dealing with seldom exploited areas of our world, at least in a modern setting, and the Catholic Church fit the bill.
It bears mentioning that this is a work of fiction. No characters were based on their real-life counterparts and if there are similarities it is purely coincidental. I am certain that, unlike in my book, the prelates of the Vatican have nothing but good intentions and would never sink so low as to commit illegal and evil acts.
A vast amount of research went into this and it threatened to overwhelm even someone like me who was raised into it. The Roman Curia is a complex institution and I took liberties for reasons of efficiency and story cohesion. The same goes for the law enforcement procedures. In short, some mistakes are deliberate to make the plot more exciting.
If you have read my novel The Kennedy Secret, you will have noticed that this is a sequel of sorts since the characters of Donovan Flood and Mike Beecher have cameos. If you want to read their story and see how this whole aforementioned “Bolivian/Kennedy adventure” began, join my newsletter and you will get access to the mystery thriller for free.
Lastly, I would like to thank my readers for making this daunting endeavor worthwhile, as well as the priceless Laura Keysor who keeps me from appearing like an illiterate fool.
Steve
Miami, December 2016
About the Author
Steve Richer is the bestselling author of the action thriller The President Killed His Wife. He went to law school and film school before considering becoming a sherpa, though he abandoned the idea upon discovering what a sherpa really was. Now he spends his days writing books.
He specializes in fun, over the top thrillers that read like action movies. He splits his time between Montreal and Miami.
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Also by Steve Richer
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Terror Bounty
I'll Kill Her for You
The Kennedy Secret
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Sigma Division
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
C
hapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Author’s Note
About the Author