Stealing God

by James Green

  That was that. Now it was up to the cherub.

  The aide’s eyes were still angry but now there was something else: doubt. He turned back to Ricci and said something in Italian. Ricci looked at Jimmy and began to speak slowly but his expression made it clear that it was Jimmy’s hand and he had to play it out.

  ‘The minister’s aide says …’

  Jimmy didn’t wait.

  ‘I didn’t ask to be part of this and I understand that Inspector Ricci actively tried to have me removed but was overruled. As I said, we have done all that can be done with the information we have been given. Either you can accept my conclusions or …’

  It was crunch time. Jimmy let his last word hang and looked at the aide.

  ‘Or?’

  ‘Or you arrange a direct contact between me and a representative of whoever originated this investigation and arranged for me to be involved. If I am to continue as part of all this,’ Jimmy paused; he wanted to be sure he created the right effect, ‘there are certain questions I need to ask and they cannot be asked through intermediaries or functionaries.’ The choice of words couldn’t have had more effect. The aide looked at Jimmy with cold fury in his eyes, but before he could speak Jimmy had stood up. ‘Good, now that’s done I’ll go. Thank you, Inspector, for bringing me. Goodbye, Mister …?’

  But the aide didn’t volunteer a name. He just looked at Jimmy with a stare in which anger and loathing were nicely blended with pure amazement. A well-dressed cherub who’d bitten into a bad oyster in his favourite restaurant. Well, at least the wasp was gone.

  Jimmy turned and left the office, walked back along the corridor, and went down in the lift to Reception where he handed back his pass and left the building through the main door, the one that the people who mattered used.

  Outside, in the sunshine, he felt great. He hadn’t felt this good for … oh, how long? Well, a very long time indeed.

  He walked along the street smiling. Forgotten Games of the Past: Squashing the Snotty Bastard.

  The smile became a grin. No, he hadn’t felt like this since Moses was in the fire brigade and Pontius was a bloody pilot.

  EIGHTEEN

  They walked into the restaurant. Ricci ignored the welcome; he wasn’t in a mood to be polite to waiters.

  ‘You did well to walk out.’

  ‘He took it badly, did he?’

  ‘What do you think? Cannot be asked through intermediaries or functionaries. For God’s sake. Nobody must have talked to him like that since,’ he paused trying to find the right words and failed, ‘for a very long time. You couldn’t have offended him more if you’d punched him on the nose.’

  ‘I couldn’t do that, it would spoil his face.’

  Ricci gave him a sideways glance. He said odd things and did odd things. He was a difficult man pin down.

  They sat down at a table and Ricci ordered two coffees. Jimmy watched the waiter go. It was the same one as before and he had given him the look again.

  ‘I see I’m still a bag-snatcher,’

  There it was again.

  ‘And what the hell is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Then why say it?’

  Ricci’s mood didn’t lighten so Jimmy looked around. It still wasn’t busy.

  ‘Why do we have to come here? Why can’t we go somewhere else, somewhere … well somewhere that’s not like here.’

  ‘You mean somewhere cheap and dirty like your bar?’

  ‘I like it. At least it’s not a morgue like this place.’

  ‘And I like it here because here it’s on expenses.’ Ricci decided that what was done was done, and anyway, it hadn’t gone so very badly. In fact it had been quite a show. ‘I need to be a regular in a few places like this so I can blend in.’

  ‘So what is it you do exactly, when you’re not busy dying from something terminal and running unofficial investigations for the minister?’

  ‘I suppose there’s no harm in you knowing. I work in the …’ he paused, looking for the right words; this time he found them, ‘… what might get called in London, the Glitz Squad.’

  Jimmy laughed,

  ‘The Glitz Squad. What’s that?’

  ‘It’s what it says. I operate on any case where there is or might be Beautiful People involvement.’

  ‘What, celebrities and that?’

  The coffees came. They waited until the waiter had gone.

  ‘You don’t know Rome, it’s not like the London you worked in, it’s a different world. High fashion sits at the same table with low lifes and you can’t always tell the difference. Crime follows the money and if the money wears glitz so does crime. Underneath all the glamour and the gushing the usual nasty things go on, maybe even more so. The rich are always targets and the super rich are super targets and they didn’t get or keep their money by being kind and gentle so sometimes it gets rough. I get plenty of work and believe me I earn my pay.’

  Jimmy thought he probably did.

  ‘So how rich is super rich?’

  ‘In your world you’d call them the haves and have-nots. In my world it’s the haves and have-yachts.’

  Jimmy liked it.

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘I got it out of an English newspaper.’

  ‘And does all your gear come on expenses?’

  Ricci nodded.

  ‘Has to; I couldn’t afford the shirts, never mind the rest of it. But it’s more than just dressing up. The way I dress anyone who knows about clothes and stuff will figure there’s no way on God’s earth I could do it on a policeman’s pay and that must mean I’m a self-serving, dishonest bastard who gets what he wants any way he can, so I just naturally fit right on in.’

  ‘So how about politics and politicians? Are you used to dealing with people like Charlie Cherub?’

  ‘Charlie Cherub?’

  ‘Your man from this morning.’

  Now it was Ricci’s turn to like it.

  ‘Yeah, it fits. I meet them socially sometimes. I don’t usually deal with them though, politicos are normally off my patch. Charlie Cherub, what made you think of it?’

  ‘His office, the ceiling mostly.’

  ‘You know, up to now I took him seriously, senior personal aide to the minister and all that. I thought of him as a big hitter. I don’t think I can any more. From now on he’ll always be Charlie Cherub.’

  ‘Believe me, whatever he is he’s not a big hitter.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because I got in.’

  ‘And what does that mean?’

  ‘If he was half the man he thinks he is he’d have had me turned back at the barrier; better still shot.’

  ‘If he hadn’t OK’d you we might both have got shot. Those guards aren’t for show. They’d use their guns if they thought they had to and leave any questions for somebody else to deal with.’

  ‘I should hope they would. Armed guards who ask questions when they should be shooting would be no bloody good at all.’

  ‘What would you have done if he had sent you packing?’

  ‘Gone away and tried something else. As it was I got in and that means either he’s not very hot on security …’

  ‘Which he is.’

  ‘… Or he knows I have to be on board, that I’m important to whatever’s going on. He was being careful. He let me in to see why I was there. He wanted to be sure that whatever I was up to he would be in a position to cover his back.’

  ‘And that’s it, you betted on him being careful, on him wanting to cover his back?’

  ‘I’ve met his sort a hundred times and more, they all run true to form. They’re successful, they get to go right on up, but they never make it all the way to the top. They get to be the deputy this or principal assistant that. They’re usually cleverer than the people they work for, often quite a bit cleverer, but they’re always second-raters. The bottom line for them is: always make sure you have a way out from under if things go pear-shaped. T
hey never carry the can, they’re never the one to blame. And that means they won’t commit, not fully. They haven’t got the bottle to match the brains. So you’ll always find one of them in the kitchen but they never get to be the chef, and if things get too hot they don’t take the heat or help put out the fire, they put all their talents into getting out clean. When you need them most, they’ll just not be there.’

  ‘And you guessed he’d be like that?’

  ‘No, but it was worth a try and as it turned out I was right. Once I was in I knew what I was dealing with so I just let him have it between the eyes and walked away. No sense in overdoing it. It’s like making a hit. Keep it simple, keep it clean, and walk away.’

  Ricci looked down at his cup. He didn’t appreciate the comparison.

  ‘You sound as if you speak from personal experience. Is that one of the things that got filleted out of your record?’

  It was a straight question.

  ‘You don’t have to have done something like that to know how it’s done.’

  It was an evasive answer.

  Each took a drink of their tiny espressos. Ricci put his question behind him.

  ‘OK, you did what you did and I took the flak.’

  ‘Did it amount to anything?’

  ‘Not really. Huffing and puffing, threats of reports to my superiors.’

  ‘But you got out clean, you put it down to me like we agreed? You got my ultimatum with no warning just like he did and you both did what you thought was for the best?’ Ricci nodded. ‘Good, in that case you’re in the clear because if you were wrong to bring me along with you then he was wrong to let me in and, believe me, the way he will tell it he won’t be wrong.’

  Ricci agreed.

  ‘After he’d let off steam at me he chewed you up but it’ll come out OK.’

  ‘I told you it would.’

  ‘So, what happens now?’

  ‘We wait until we get contacted. When we get the meeting with our man from the Vatican, if it is the Vatican, we ask our questions. If we find there’s anything to chase, we’re off and running.’

  ‘What do we do till we get the call?’

  ‘See your China watcher again. I want to know if there’s still something we might not know about Cheng.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘He went into prison first time as a priest and came out as a bishop. When and why did that happen? When he surfaces in Macau he’s an archbishop. Again, when and why did it happen? Was it Vatican support for someone under the cosh, was it for services rendered against the People’s Republic, or was it part of some sort of diplomatic game? If it was part of some diplomatic chess game then were all the moves over with Cheng once he got rehabilitated?’

  ‘So exactly what is it I’m looking for?’

  ‘How should I know? Ask your China watcher.’

  ‘Ask what?’

  ‘How should I know? I’m not a bloody China watcher.’

  They sat in silence. Then Jimmy had an idea.

  ‘How about, was he still an archbishop when he died?’ Ricci obviously didn’t understand. ‘Cheng got made a bishop in secret, then archbishop in secret, so why not a cardinal in secret? Could that be why he’d come to Rome, to get the red hat on the quiet, to get bumped up to cardinal but without any publicity so as not to offend the Chinese?’

  Ricci liked it.

  ‘It’s a good thought.’

  ‘If you asked the question do you think your China watcher could answer it?’

  ‘Maybe. Would it be important?’

  ‘How the hell would I know? I don’t even know why I’m doing this. But if I’m only going to be allowed to know diddley-squat about what’s going on, I want all of the diddley-squat. We’ll sort out if any of it’s important later.’

  ‘OK, I’ll look into it. What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to rest. I mend quick but not as quick as I used to. And I’ve got to arrange some proper leave of absence with my rector, make up some sort of cover story like you’ve got. My not being where I should has already been noticed and questions asked. I’ll need to fix it so it’s not going to be a problem.’

  ‘Will your rector kick?’

  ‘I doubt it. She doesn’t like me, doesn’t consider me a suitable candidate for the priesthood. She hates any time of hers that I take up so if I drop out for a while that’ll be like an early Christmas present for her.’ Jimmy stood up. ‘You’ll pay if it’s on expenses?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Jimmy left and Ricci watched him go.

  How the hell did a man who could talk with easy familiarity about blowing someone’s brains out get onto a priests’ training course?

  But he stopped himself thinking along those lines. It served no useful purpose to speculate about how Jimmy had turned up in Rome. If his record had been fixed and he got vouched for by the right kind of people it could happen easily enough. What mattered now was whether he brought something special to the inquiry, and he did. He’d got in to see the minister’s aide and maybe got them a meeting with someone who could throw some light on what they were actually involved in. And he had done it like he said, with no mud sticking on anybody but himself.

  Ricci smiled. He used his nice smile even though there was no one there to see it. Watch out, Jimmy, if that aide gets a chance to do you some harm he’ll jump at it. You made him look bad this morning and he’s going to have to do some very fancy talking not to come out of things with a black mark against him. You were bang on about his sort; their greatest duty is their greatest joy, the delegation of blame. When someone puts them in the firing line it’s the unforgivable sin and one they never forget.

  Ricci was honest enough, now he was talking to himself, to admit that he had a little of that same attitude. Maybe even more than a little. Take care, Jimmy, because if Charlie Cherub turns up the heat on you don’t look to me for help. Like you said, I’ll be well out of the kitchen.

  He looked at his watch; time to get moving. He would set up a meeting with his China watcher and ask about that cardinal business. He put some money on the table, pushed the bill into his pocket and got up. He wondered what the pay-off would be at the end of things. If it was important, and it looked like it was, he wanted to be the one on the receiving end of any congratulations and commendations, even if they were only unofficial. If there was anything else, if the shit started flying, well, Jimmy wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end for that; he’d said as much.

  After all, he was going to be a priest, wasn’t he?

  NINETEEN

  ‘That’s it, “Call at my office at three tomorrow afternoon,” he said nothing else?’

  Ricci turned the car into the narrow back street behind the ministry building.

  ‘How many times do you need telling?’

  They stopped at the barrier, a guard came out with his clipboard. Ricci showed his ID, gave his name, the guard checked his list, gave Ricci’s ID photo and his face a good look, then asked a question in which Jimmy thought he caught his own name.

  ‘This is Signor Costello.’ Jimmy gave his passport to Ricci who passed it on. The guard checked it then bent down and looked into the car, this time giving Jimmy a good once-over, then he looked at the passport again, then went back into the guardroom. They could see him talking to the other guard.

  ‘Is it me or have things tightened up a bit?’

  Ricci turned away from watching the guardroom.

  ‘It’s nothing, your name’s on the list alongside mine. It’s just that your ID isn’t official, just a passport. He’s being careful.’ The guard was on the phone now, looking out at them while he talked. When he put the phone down it was the woman guard who came out and gave Ricci the passport and opened the barrier. This time she hardly touched her gun at all. They drove in and parked the car in the same place as last time. Jimmy got out and noticed that the three bulk waste bins were open and had been emptied. They went through the back door, along the corridors, and on into
the reception area where they were once again met and swept before they picked up their passes. Then they went up in the lift, along the silent corridor, and knocked at the aide’s door.

  ‘Come in.’

  It was a woman’s voice. Inside there were the same two chairs but this time in front of the desk and sitting behind the desk was Professor McBride. She gave them a steady look.

  ‘Come in, please, and close the door.’

  Ricci closed the door and they sat down. McBride didn’t speak, she waited, so Jimmy broke the silence.

  ‘Professor, what are you doing here? What we’re here for is nothing to do with Duns College.’

  ‘Only very indirectly, Mr Costello. You are currently assisting Inspector Ricci, who is officially on sick leave, in an unofficial inquiry. You are doing this at the request of the minister who, in turn, is acting at the request of an unnamed party. But you are also currently a Duns student so, in that respect but in that respect only, it could be said to be Duns College business. And since you have brought the matter up I think I should point out that for a Duns student to become involved in such a bizarre course of action without seeking the necessary permissions is irregular in the extreme, not to mention how incompatible with your studies such an involvement must be. As to whether it is at all fitting for one training for the priesthood …’

  ‘Excuse me, Professor.’

  ‘Yes, Inspector?’

  ‘We were told the minister’s aide wanted to see us. If you could please explain?’

  ‘There you’re wrong, Inspector. All you were told was to be here at three. You were not told that the minister’s aide would be the one you would see.’