Her sons smiled.
Giovanni said, ‘Mama, I only vaguely remember our father. But one thing I do remember is that he never raised his voice to you.’
‘He had other and better ways,’ she said briskly. ‘Now tell me, in all this terrible mess, what this old woman can do.’
Mario leaned forward and said, ‘On Sunday night there is to be a black mass in the private chapel of the De Muros’ villa. The black mass is to initiate Pino Calveccio into the ways of the devil. The mass is to be conducted by Bishop Caprese. Let me explain.’
His mother raised a hand.
‘You do not have to explain. Pino Calveccio inherited a vast fortune from his corrupt father three years ago. During those three years he has tried everything from under-aged girls to drugs. Surely the bottom of his personal pit must be Satanism . . . Bishop Caprese has been a degenerate since long before he took the cloth. His father was also a degenerate. You cannot surprise me with such information. What do you want me to do?’
‘It is simple,’ Mario said, ‘but a little dangerous.’
She lifted her head and laughed.
‘My boy, at my age, danger is almost as exciting as a perfect aphrodisiac . . . What do you want of me?’
Mario glanced at his brother, who was looking slightly shocked. He looked back at his mother and said, ‘I learned from Gandolfo the procedures at such events. The congregation will meet in the De Muro villa at approximately eleven p.m. Drinks and canapés will be served. At about half past eleven they will change into their robes. They will then proceed the three hundred metres to the private chapel in the grounds for the black mass. “The Blue Ring” will have a guard circling the grounds.’ He paused for thought and then said, ‘You have heard me talk before of my friend Creasy?’
She nodded, ‘I have indeed . . . He is a man I would like to meet. He is a man I would like to have met thirty years ago.’
Both sons smiled. Their father had died thirty-one years earlier.
Mario went on, ‘You understand why I cannot possibly mount a carabinieri operation against that mass or those involved.’
‘I understand perfectly,’ she said. ‘I assume your friend Creasy is going to do just that.’
Mario nodded. ‘He has a very powerful team. What’s more, his adopted son Michael has infiltrated “The Blue Ring” and will be attending the mass. Naturally, anyone entering the De Muro villa that night will be carefully searched. It is vital that when Michael moves from the villa to the chapel, he should be armed and carrying a tiny radio transmitter. Now let me tell you . . .’
His mother held up a hand.
‘No, Mario, let me tell you. You want me to plant that weapon and a transmitter in the De Muro villa . . . No problem.’
Giovanni laughed.
‘Mama, it’s dangerous. Listen to Mario’s plan.’
She smiled and shook her head.
‘If I’m going to do it I will follow my own plan. There is no difficulty in my entering the De Muro villa. I will pass by tomorrow afternoon. Although they have a name, and a faded reputation, they will be honoured at my calling by. I will be welcomed for a coffee and a drink. I will bring some gossip to titillate their tiny minds. In spite of their family history they have become very provincial in the last hundred years or so.’ She smiled again and winked. ‘A visit from Sophia Satta would be far more important in their social calendar than a mere black mass.’ She closed her eyes in thought. ‘I’m trying to remember the layout of the villa. It has been some years since I was there. I recall that there is a dressing-room to the right of the main entrance. I presume that the congregation will change their clothes there.”
Mario Satta got her drift immediately. ‘You will conceal the weapon and the transmitter in there.’
She gave him the kind of motherly look which conveyed the message, I hope one day you’ll grow up. Then smiled to take away the sting and said, ‘Mario, you will give me two guns and two transmitters. I will conceal them in two different locations, including the dressing-room. That gives Creasy’s son two chances. I’ll phone you tomorrow night and tell you the locations.’
Very quietly Mario Satta said, ‘I’m grateful, Mama,’ and started to rise.
She shook her head irritably. ‘Sit down and listen to me, Mario, and you too, Giovanni. Do not give me this task and then forget me. What you learned from the puta Gandolfo is only part of it. You see me as an old woman, but I hear more and see more than you can imagine. When you go into that cess-pit it is only the beginning. Powerful people will try to cover up everything. Use my knowledge and my contacts. Which investigating judge will you use?’
Mario told her, and she nodded in satisfaction.
‘He is honest and determined. His father died in the hands of the Mafia, his grandfather died at the hands of Mussolini. You chose well.’ She leaned forward and her small bright eyes twinkled and she said, ‘There are some things I command you to do.’
Again Mario glanced at his brother, who simply shrugged and smiled.
‘What are they?’ Mario asked.
‘When all this is over, I wish to meet this friend of yours, Creasy. When you next talk to him you must give him an order from me . . . When he enters that private chapel he should leave at least one of the senior members of “The Blue Ring” very much alive . . . although perhaps wounded. That man will be the opener for you and your judge to open the can of filth.’ Her voice hardened. ‘The first thing Creasy or his son must do in that chapel is to kill the Bishop.’
‘Why?’ Mario asked.
Her voice carried an edge of exasperation, ‘Learn, my son. Whatever you do, try to avoid embarrassing those you will need . . . The Vatican.’
Chapter 90
The argument was heated, but there could only be one outcome.
The team was moving out from the Pensione Splendide on its way to Rome. Maxie and Frank were travelling in one car. Jens was going with The Owl in the BMW. Creasy was following alone in the third car.
The first two cars had left; all the men embracing Guido, Pietro and Juliet, and giving them the ritualistic kiss. Guido had disappeared from the bar. Creasy gave Pietro a big hug and the kiss and then turned to Juliet.
He told her, ‘As soon as it’s over, Pietro will take you back to Gozo, to Laura and Paul. Michael and I will follow some days later.’
She clung on to him tightly and said, ‘Don’t worry about me. I will not be stupid again.’
He looked around for Guido, but when his friend appeared through the door, Creasy’s face darkened. Guido was wearing faded old denim jeans, a denim shirt and a denim jacket. In his left hand he carried a large canvas bag. Creasy recognised that bag. It was very worn. In years past, Guido had carried it around from one war to another. Creasy firmly shook his head. ‘No, Guido . . . You made a promise.’
Guido also shook his head.
‘You knew Julia and you know how she would feel now.’ He looked down at the bag and said, ‘My old SMG is in there . . . Of course it’s not the newest or even the most fashionable, but there’s no time to familiarise myself with new weapons.’
Again Creasy said, ‘No, Guido, I already have a good team.’
The Italian shook his head.
‘Good but not perfect . . . Now you have the perfect team.’ He dropped the bag and turned to Pietro and gave him a hug and the kiss. ‘Look after Juliet. You know where the money is. Tomorrow night move into a suite on the top floor of the Regina Hotel. It’s already booked. Take your gun with you and do not move from that suite until you hear from me.’ He hugged Juliet and gave her a kiss, smiled and said, ‘Don’t worry, little one. Guido will look after your father and your brother.’
Juliet clung on to him. Over her head Guido looked at Creasy and said simply, ‘I am an Italian.’
Chapter 91
They all looked up expectantly as Creasy walked into the lounge of the safe house in Rome. Their expressions changed to surprise as they saw Guido following him in, carrying his
canvas bag.
Creasy said, ‘We have another active member on the team.’
There was a shocked silence. And then Maxie and Frank grinned broadly as they stood up.
‘Bloody bonzer!’ Frank said. ‘We were just going through the layout, and I pointed out that some real insurance would be a machine-gunner on the small hill to the east of the chapel.’
He turned to look at Maxie who said, ‘The best in the world. I just stopped worrying about my back.’
Satta was looking at Guido. The look carried both a welcome and compassion. The look also carried a query, Guido gave him the same answer as he had given Creasy.
‘I am an Italian.’
Satta moved forward, and the two Italians embraced.
It was the final planning and briefing. Rene had slipped away from the luxury apartment near the Spanish Steps with the news that Michael was completely ready and in good form. With a smile he said, ‘Although slightly tired from his recent exertions.’
They all sat at the round table and looked down at the scale drawing of the De Muro villa and its grounds and private chapel. The Dane had a yellow, lined notebook in front of him, its pages covered in his spidery handwriting. He set the scene: ‘I have crystallised all the information we have, both from Gandolfo, other sources and, of course, from Colonel Sana’s intrepid mother.’ He consulted his notes. ‘First of all, Colonel Satta informed me that the police pathologist’s report on General Gandolfo shows without doubt that he died from a heart attack ... and so there is no reason to think that "The Blue Ring" suspects any danger to their black mass. Secondly, Colonel Satta’s mother has planted two pistols and two transmitters in the De Muro villa.’ He pointed with his chin at the Belgian. ‘Rene has been informed as to their exact location and will pass that information on to Michael. They are, of course, only coded transmitters, and the signal from Michael to attack will be three dots and a long beep. From Gandolfo we know that there will be at least a dozen guards in and around the grounds. Colonel Satta and his team will be three kilometres away and can expect to reach the chapel within a few minutes after receiving our signal.’ He looked up at Creasy, gestured expansively at the plan in front of him and said, ‘It’s all yours, Boss.’
Creasy stretched his frame and then sat down. He was finally in his element. Guido pulled up a chair and sat beside him. For more than a minute Creasy studied the detailed drawing. The villa was set in the hills about five kilometres from Lago di Bolsena. The grounds were heavily wooded and undulating.
He said, ‘We have Trilux night-sights which the guards will not have. We will split into two teams. One team will infiltrate the grounds first. That team will comprise Maxie, Frank and Rene. They will identify the location of the guards and relay that information back to the second team, which will comprise myself, Guido and the Owl. It is necessary that we attack only after the mass has started and when the participants are totally involved in it . . . in fact, just before the sacrifice. Michael will send the signal, and as we arrive, he will shoot the Bishop. My team will enter the chapel while Maxie’s team stays outside, mopping up the guards.’ He turned to look at Jens. ‘You will be waiting a kilometre away in a twelve-seater minivan. We will time your arrival at the chapel about one minute before Colonel Satta arrives with his team. We will position four cars a further three to four kilometres away from the scene and transfer to them, leaving the mini-van at that place. We’ll go in with flares and stun grenades. I want a minimum of small-arms fire in the chapel. What killing has to be done, apart from the Bishop, I’ll do.’ He looked up at Satta. ‘That will include Donati and Hussein. I’ll wound Delors but keep him alive for you. He’s the one who’ll do the talking.’
Satta nodded in agreement, then asked, ‘What about the rest of the congregation?’
After a moment’s thought, Creasy said, ‘I’ll kill the Initiate. I’ll leave the rest for you to talk to.’
Satta said, ‘That suits me fine.’
Chapter 92
The child Katrin was giggling. It was something she had been doing most of the time, when not sleeping. It had nothing to do with natural happiness, but everything to do with the pills her new foster parents had been giving her at regular intervals. She saw the beautiful house and their smiling faces through a happy haze. Perhaps, she thought, her mental state was similar to that of all children of her age, who had escaped from a nightmare.
On the Sunday afternoon, when her new mother had told her they were going for a car ride to visit some friends in the country, she giggled happily.
Chapter 93
The doorbell rang at nine-thirty in the evening.
Rene answered it. Gina Forelli swept into the room, handing him a long maroon cape, and saying, ‘One of your wonderful bullshots, please, Rene.’
Michael was watching a football match on television. He stood up and they embraced.
‘I’m feeling pleased with you,’ she announced.
‘Why?’
‘Because you are the real thing,’ she answered brightly.
‘What are you talking about?’
She moved to the TV and switched it off. She was wearing a dark blue woollen, ankle-length skirt and a high-necked, blood-red cashmere sweater. He doubted that she was wearing anything underneath. She turned to look at him, her head slightly on one side, and then said huskily, ‘You have to understand, Adnan. A lot of phoneys come to Rome. Some of them have money, and some only have clever tricks to pretend that they have money. In order for me to take you to this event tonight, it was necessary that some very important people checked you out completely. Believe me, they are the kind of people who have the connections and power to do that.’
With a tone of irritation, Michael said, ‘And you - and they - were surprised to discover that I was genuine?’
‘Not surprised,’ she answered, ‘just gratified. Of course I had heard rumours that you had transferred ten million dollars into your account here with the Banco di Roma . . . I now know from which bank in the Middle East you transferred the money. I even know the name of the bank manager who made the transfer. I also know that a place is waiting for you at Harvard University when you leave Rome. I even know the names of your future professors.’
Michael forced himself to look impressed. He said, ‘So maybe this little game tonight is going to be serious. Maybe it’s not just a load of bullshit to separate me from fifty thousand dollars.’
Very seriously, she shook her head.
‘It is certainly no game, Adnan. What you see tonight . . . what you will be part of, is something so rare that it will live in your brain forever . . . Perhaps you will never be the same again.’
Rene appeared with her drink and looked enquiringly at Michael, who shook his head. Rene left the room.
Gina asked, ‘You are not drinking tonight, Adnan?’
‘Not yet . . . I will save it for later.’
She smiled.
‘Yes. There will be plenty later . . . There will be everything to sate your body and your brain . . . Everything.’
He looked at his watch. ‘When do we leave?’
‘In about ten minutes,’ she answered. ‘But there are two things you have to do first.’
‘Like what?’
She put down her glass and answered. ‘Give me half the fifty thousand dollars . . . and then strip naked.’
‘What the hell are you playing at?’
She laughed and came close to him and kissed him almost chastely on the mouth.
‘I have to give you a thorough body search. It has to be like that . . . It will be pleasant more than painful.’
He smiled wryly and said, ‘Of course I have no objection . . . As for the money: I will give you the other half tomorrow after the event.’
She nodded seriously and said, ‘I trust you. That’s a little dangerous for me, because it might mean I’m falling in love with you.’
He gave her a doubtful look, reached into his inside pocket and pulled out an envelope. H
e handed it to her saying, ‘There’s twenty-five one thousand dollar bills.’
She did not count the money. She folded the envelope, lifted her sweater and tucked it into the waistband of her skirt.
‘Strip,’ she said with a grin.
It was the most careful search Michael could have imagined. She had obviously been very well briefed by a professional. She examined every item of his clothes meticulously, checking the seams and waistband of his trousers and even the buttons of his jacket. She felt every inch of the fabric of his suit and shirt and underwear. She checked his shoes from every angle, banging the heels against a table and listening for an echo.
Michael and Creasy had discussed the possibility of concealing a tiny transmitter on some part of his body or clothes. He was relieved that they had decided not to take the risk.
Next she examined his body, first peering into his open mouth and checking there were no new fillings. Then her fingers probed into his ears. Finally she asked him to open his legs and bend over and touch his toes. He did so, knowing what was coming. He felt her finger enter his anus and probe around. She kissed the centre of his spine and said, ‘Adnan, you are clean in every way.’
She drove the car, a Mercedes which Michael had not seen before. A small, dark man sat in the back seat. She did not bother to introduce him. Michael realised that there would be a gun at his back the whole way.
As soon as they left the centre of Rome she turned to him and said, ‘We must blindfold you from here. You understand, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Michael answered.
He heard the man move behind him and then felt the black silk scarf slip over his eyes.
Chapter 94
The sliver of moon was obscured by clouds. They stopped under a clump of trees about a kilometre from the villa. They were dressed identically: all in black, with high, rubber-soled boots. Blackened canvas army webbing and pouches covered their torsos. Knitted black skull-caps covered their hair; their faces had also been blackened.
The Blue Ring (A Creasy novel Book 3) Page 32
