“I must also leave you, Nelson. My next task is work out what Conor Laoghaire has been up to. As I warned you, he is effective but you never can predict quite how.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tuesday, Madrid
Conor, Caterina and Davide had an early breakfast in a nearby bar that served an excellent tostada con tomate y aceite, which Davide recommended. The cafe con leche was good though Caterina preferred Italian coffee. Perhaps it was in her genes.
Conor began: “I received a call from Paulino late last night. Severino is quietly going to be sent back to Rome today without his diplomatic immunity. Pedro will hold him incommunicado until he leaves, explaining that he is awaiting instructions and agreement between the Vatican and Spain. According to Pedro the Spanish Ambassador met with Nelson and Paulino last night. It seems that Nelson is happy that we have the first go at Severino.
“I thought of coming with you to Yuste. I’ve decided not to. Instead I’m going to stay with Pedro to see if we can work Weizmann loose. Your task is to try persuading this Condesa and the sister voluntarily to cooperate with Interpol. If they decline, Pablo will give instructions that his people take them into custody and bring them to Madrid with you. It would be much better if they come voluntarily.” He looked hopeful.
“Okay. I see two police cars outside the hotel. They are probably yours. Remember to look round the Yuste house in case you see anything of relevance and bring computers, phones and tablets if there are any. I know, I know, Caterina; I am teaching granny to suck eggs! Sorry.”
There were actually three CNP Alfa Romeos outside, the third being unmarked. Seeing Conor and the others approaching Pedro climbed out of the latter. “These two are for you, Caterina and Davide. There will be two officers in each car in case the ladies are unwilling. Conor has explained? Good. Now, Conor, let us head to the airport in my car.” They drove off.
A uniformed officer approached Caterina and Davide. His English was laboured. Davide replied in Spanish, at which the officer relaxed. He thought that it would be more comfortable if the two of them went in the rear of the second car with just a driver while the other three officers went in the lead car. They agreed.
Caterina and Davide climbed into the back of the second Alpha and set off. It might have been peak morning rush hour for most Madrileños but not to these drivers. With deftness, accuracy, blue flashing lights and the siren only when needed they carved their way through the traffic like the proverbial hot knife through warm butter. Within twenty minutes they were heading along the A5 at over 160 kilometres an hour, faster when the road permitted.
“We should be there by ten thirty at the latest,” offered their driver.
Davide didn’t know how to react. He’d never been driven at such speeds before. It horrified him just to look at the speedometer. He wasn’t sure whether it was better to look forward at what they must be about to hit, or through the side window or just shut his eyes. He tried all three. None worked. Of the three, he thought he preferred the first because that way he could at least see how he was going to die. His imagination was running away with him.
Caterina said, “Relax, Davide. These guys are professionals. I can recognise it because I was trained to drive like this, though I have never needed to. There is a lot of skill but essentially they are practising a sophisticated form of defensive driving though you might not think it.”
“Relax, Caterina? Are you crazy? This cops and robbers stuff isn’t me. I come from the world where we do things with systems, not hare madly across foreign countries at wild speeds. I should’ve asked to stay behind.”
“Why didn’t you?”
”My fatal flaw, namely curiosity, which harkens all too closely in this case to killing the curious cat: me.”
“Don’t make such a fuss! Grow up! Enjoy it!”
“You really are crazy. In different ways you and Conor are the same — mad. Being around you is enough to drive anyone round the bend. Even José Antonio feels it and he is a saint.”
“A lamb might be closer. Yes, I agree he’s lovely. Anyway, I‘ve an idea I want to run past you, if you can drag your mind off being unnecessarily terrified.”
“You really are cold-hearted, aren’t you? Okay, I give in. What’s your idea?”
“Over the past two-plus weeks we’ve created a number of hypotheses but been unable to prove or disprove any of them. Right?”
“Sadly, you’re correct.”
“Do I remember you saying that there is a VCCC configuration ready to for shipping to Latin America?”
“Yes. It was supposed to go out last month but indecision about where it will go, either Brazil or Mexico, has held this up.”
“Do you agree that the lid has come off the need for secrecy?”
Davide laughed, his first moment of relaxation since entering the car.
“I think I can safely agree with you.”
“Try this then for its logic. The real problem we’ve faced has been that need for secrecy. This meant being unable to find a way to get at the payment messaging systems. More and more I am convinced that it is something about those that is the clue. Yes, they run on standard Dell blade servers with no apparent hardware doctoring, but there might be something added to the configuration or, more likely, it is something in the software.”
“I’m with you so far.”
“How about suggesting to Conor or Nelson that we borrow this about-to-be shipped system and run transactions through to see what happens? We can compare what we put in with what comes out and where.”
“That still makes sense but have we the tools to simulate what you want?”
“I have some and can probably access others. In the financial arena Conor has access to special ones, though he may need us both to do the techie work for him.”
“So what do we do and what do we feed it with?”
“If we can record, say, a day’s worth of inputs from the real VCCC and pass those through the second system we could see what happens live and what happens when simulated.”
“But they should be the same, no?”
“Yes, but what if they’re not? Or we may receive some pointers when looking at the processing streams.”
“Again, that still makes sense. What d’you propose next?”
“Shall I call Conor and suggest this?”
“I don’t see we have anything to lose. He can approach Nelson, or I can through José Antonio. Where would we do this? We cannot do it at where we are currently working.”
“You’re right. But if we can now operate openly we could do it in the VCCC operations area. At least that way the data never leaves the Vatican.”
“Go for it. I wonder what Conor will say.”
Caterina took out her phone to make the call.
Tuesday, El Roble, Yuste
Inma made the coffee while Miriam assembled the bread, olive oil, and toaster that Inma said was necessary if she was to discover a true Spanish breakfast. To Miriam’s horror she saw Inma take out garlic and tomato and start to make a paste that she put in a small bowl.
They were in the kitchen, luxuriating in being naked together. The housekeeper did not come on Tuesdays, which was as well, because the bedroom was a mess and the previous evening’s brown dress was still on the floor here, though Miriam picked it and the coarse underwear up and put them on a chair. The prospect of a day of pleasurable relaxation beckoned. The sun was out. The air was warming fast and there was no wind. They took everything out onto the same terrace where Inma’s new reality had started under two days ago.
“It was so good sleeping next to you,” started Miriam. “I felt content in a way I do not remember. To wake with your arms around me was lovely.” Inma nodded, her mouth temporarily full of toasted bread and olive oil.
“I don’t recall sleeping beside anyone since my sisters were small. I thought it would be hard because it was going to be so novel but instead it was … as you say, comforting. I liked it. But I suppose I should’v
e expected to go to sleep easily after what you did to me.”
“What did I do to you? Have you not gotten that the wrong way round?”
“All right you tell me what I did and then I will tell you what you did. Fair?”
Miriam paused. She was not accustomed to discussing the night before’s exploits. This was new for her. She was embarrassed.
“Well, you eventually dragged me upstairs when you could not stand my delaying tactics any longer, right?” Inma nodded. “I thought we might never make the bedroom dressed but we did, somehow. Then you stopped me in front of a long mirror and went behind me. I watched you watching me as you undid my tennis dress and slid it down onto the floor. Then you knelt down slowly running your hands from my ankles all the way up my legs to where my stockings stopped, and again so slowly rolled both down. You took off my shoes to remove each stocking before making me put the shoes back on. I shiver with pleasure thinking of this again. Then you slid my panties off even more excruciatingly slowly down my legs and over the shoes before standing to unhook my bra. I remember feeling so naked except for those shoes in front of that mirror with your hands chasing all over me. You did not once kiss me. Suddenly you touched my chin and began running your finger down my neck. You became unbearable. I watched you watching me as you continued your finger down my chest, round one breast and then the other with the tiniest little tweak with your little finger to each nipple. This was like an electric shock. If that was not enough you descended down across my stomach and still further until your finger slid inside me where I know you found me soaking. I couldn’t do anything except climax on the spot as your finger entered and again when you ever so slowly withdrew. I’ve never done that before. I normally need much, much more preparation, though I suppose you could say that the whole of dinner was preparation. It was amazing. You were amazing. I remember shaking and shaking.”
She paused, feeling the same again.
“Okay. Well, not okay really for now. I’m aroused just thinking about it and having to tell you. So now it’s your turn, and it’s going to be a long morning if we are going to relive all of last night like this.”
She smiled affectionately at Inma, still astonished at the latter’s previously hidden beauty now revealed.
“I was just as surprised at your orgasm, when I had touched you only so slightly down there. You felt unreal and looked so shocked.
“Then you made me stand in front of that same mirror. You took off my dress quickly, no delaying there on your part. At that point I thought, ‘At last!’ But next you started explaining to me what you liked about each part of me, pointing at each place and almost but not quite touching me. You may or may not have kissed that place. I don’t know if you had a plan but your choosing different places at different moments was excruciating. I had no idea where you would go next. Each time you excited me further. Inside I was screaming for you to give me release. Eventually you showed me why I had to dress in the order you told me, when you took off those exquisite briefs you bought me, and they are lovely. But I wasn’t standing naked like you. I was still in everything else but those briefs — wondering what happen next. Would you copy what I had done to you? Would I react the same? Silly me; I should’ve known by then. Instead you turned me round and led me to the bed. You lay me down first on my front and then turned me over. This time you kissed me everywhere but you were so mean. Each time you came close to the top of my legs you would stop, lick me once where it matters and then move somewhere different and restart but always returning to where it must have been like a river. Every time you reached me down there I was on the point of coming. But you knew that, didn’t you? Time and time again you stopped and restarted. I haven’t a clue how long this went on but it felt like aeons. You were mean; really mean. You had me running like a fish baited on a hook until finally you relented and led me to a climax so deep and complete that I still don’t believe it. Until then you were truly mean.”
“Well you obtained your revenge later, didn’t you?”
“I did and now I understand what you mean about anticipation and delay. But the price.”
“Never mind, we will find new ways to educate each other, providing you are still interested?”
“I am, I am. So what shall we do this morning, besides reminisce about last night’s pleasures? We could try repeating them.” Inma looked hopeful.
“We need to pause, trust me. Too much too soon and all that.
“May I change the subject? Did you really mean what you said yesterday evening? I’m not trying to push or anything. Actually I’m more concerned that I’m pushing you too far too soon.”
“No, you are not, cariño.”
“Cariño?”
“Dear one; darling, something like that. At this moment it is meant deeply and affectionately.
“Yesterday I started making decisions. Some will not be easy. I know I will have to give up on Opus Dei. That’s my choice. No, don’t object; I think it’s been coming for a long time. Opus is too cloistered, restrictive and secretive, though I will always be grateful for what it has done for me.
“If I give Opus up I will have to think about what I believe. That will take longer and I have no clear direction here.
“Leaving Opus means giving up on the Santofonino aspect. I don’t think I’ll mind. The past three weeks since Michele summoned us to Israel has made me increasingly uncomfortable about what we have done. Whether this means I have to leave the reinsurance firm is another matter. I think I’m too good to lose, but the partners may not agree, especially as most are also Opus. I may receive the big black thumbs down.
“Does this bother me? No. I have this place and it’s paid for. I own two apartments in Madrid. The smaller one I live in, the other I rent out to diplomats or business executives and the like. That alone brings in enough to live off if I am frugal. So I’m not worried on money grounds and I’m pretty certain that others in the reinsurance industry would hire me.
“That leaves my family, my sisters. I’m not sure what they will think, with or without you. In fact I think they will be pleased for me. They may be shocked at first by you but essentially they are free spirits. Their husbands may take longer. But I’m no threat to them. They will like you for what you are.
“One side thought. If we are to be together, and I passionately hope we will be, Miriam, I don’t want to be part of the overt gay community. That does not feel appropriate, or not at least at this moment. Maybe I will change, especially if I encounter active discrimination. But Spain has adjusted much already, at least outside the Catholic Church.
“Am I talking gibberish?”
“Not at all. You seem to be much further towards a transition than I could have imagined. Remember that frightened look on your face two days ago at Sunday lunch, dressed in your brown monster? You couldn’t see yourself, but you could feel it, no? Now look at you, happy I hope, luxuriating inside your own very finely-toned skin. Inma, you are a revelation.”
“What about you?”
“I am not yet so organised mentally as you. I’m bowled over by you. I already love being with you and what we do to each other. I agree about withdrawing from the Santofonino diversion. I am now so grateful that I never took anything for myself. In that I have a clear conscience.
“I also need to think what to do. I don’t have strong ties to New Jersey though my business is there. At this moment, if you were again to invite me to stay longer, I would say yes on the spot. Or, if you prefer, I will go. If the latter I will depart unhappily but adequately content knowing that what we’ve done together was no sin in my books.”
“Miriam, you’re immediately invited. I want and need you to stay; for as long as you like.”
They both stood up, enfolding themselves in each other arms. Soon reprising lust had them heading upstairs again — this time to Miriam’s bedroom, which was not yet a mess.
Tuesday, Yuste
“We are nearing Yuste,” said their driver, pointing to the m
oving map. “We think we know where to go but are not 100 per cent certain. We are also switching off the blue lights because El Comisario said not to disturb the locals, especially the police chief. He shouldn’t be around though he does live here. He is scheduled to be in Cáceres today for a province meeting, according to what El Comisario told us.”
After several minutes they found a small sign indicating El Roble. They took the path, for it was hardly a road, and drove carefully down it.
“It’s beautiful here,” said Caterina. “The trees and the light are special. Oh look at that!”
She pointed towards the vast view south over the plain.
They drove onto a gravel parking area, featuring a not-so-new-looking BMW X5. The police cars parked so that the X5 couldn’t move. The five climbed out.
“Please stay here while we check who is in,” commanded Pedro’s assigned leader, who had been in the lead car. A few minutes later he was back. “We have two ladies here. One says she is the owner and the other her American guest. She is making all sorts of threats. Would you like to come explain why you are here?”
Caterina led, Davide followed. “Davide, you had better start in Spanish until we know we can all talk in English or Italian.”
They entered the house to find two agitated ladies, one in a brown shapeless dress and the other wrapped in a towel. Both were dishevelled, as if they had just gotten out of bed. Indeed there was the evidence of a recent breakfast on the kitchen counter.
“Buenos días. Is one of you the Condesa de Arenas de Ávila?” started Davide.
“I am. Who are you? What are these policeman doing in my house?” responded Inma, clearly upset and apprehensive, though there was no obvious reason for this yet, other than having five strangers in her kitchen, three of whom were uniformed policeman.
The HolyPhone Confessional Crisis Page 30
