A Rose From The Executioner
Page 36
A Haitian servant approached the man in the lounge chair, inquiring about anything else he may need before retiring. He had just enjoyed a beach front dinner and was quietly digesting his food while enjoying the island sunset. This was his normal evening routine.
“Is there anything else you may need, Signor Joe?”
“No, Javier. I’m fine, thank you. See you in the morning.”
Joseph Kilbane fumbled with his sunglasses and smiled to himself. He was recapping the activities of the last several months in his mind as he was able to finally, relax and enjoy his permanent vacation.
He was thankful to Little Tony DiMatteo, who was able to drive him to the South Bend Regional Airport on the night he disappeared. He boarded a private jet to embark on the three-hour flight to Miami International Airport, where DiMatteo had connections. Dressed as a regular layman, he boarded another private Cessna 210 with his brief case carrying over $50,000 in cash to Port-au-Prince Airport in Haiti. After a four-hour layover, and using his fake American passport, he boarded a yacht at the Haitian harbor to transport him to the island two hours away. The large Sea Ray Sundancer, which was owned by a DiMatteo ‘family friend’, was a comfortable means of transportation to his new home on the island of Labadee.
Since the events of Chicago and the fire destruction of the brown stone church on West Division Street, the Great Lakes Life Insurance Company had no choice but to pay the life insurance claims of the former priests John Marquardt, Lucas Senopoli, Matthew McDougall, and Mark Ryan, totaling over twenty million dollars, made payable to the Archdiocese of Chicago.
When the money was finally wire transferred to the Archdiocese, Monsignor Giacomo Fusciardi, the Vatican Special Diplomat to the Pope, paid an unusual visit to the Chicago Cardinal. There was an unsecured, outstanding debt to the Vatican that needed repayment. The Holy See and the Vatican Curia had called in the outstanding loan payable to the Vatican for the amount totaling $35 million dollars, plus interest. These funds had been borrowed by Cardinal Markowitz several years ago to meet some the legal obligations of the child molestation lawsuits that had been piling up against the Archdiocese.
After some intense negotiations, Cardinal Markowitz settled with the Institute for Works of Religion (IWR), commonly referred to as the Vatican Bank, for the total sum of the insurance proceeds plus an additional ten, or $30 million dollars.
Understanding that the Archdiocese of Chicago was on the brink of bankruptcy, the Vatican was very agreeable to settle for a nominal amount of that unsecured, uncollateralized loan.
The Vatican Curia was also happy to pay off Kilbane and Little Tony DiMatteo. The two had very specific, damaging information regarding the former Cardinal Jose Maria Buonsante’s handling of various pedophile priests’ scandals in Caracas, Venezuela before going to Rome. The Monsignor threatened to go public several times to the Holy See, which would have been a public relations nightmare for the Pope and the Vatican Curia.
Since the Vatican Bank’s financial transactions are discrete, the ‘IWR’ forwarded twenty million to a Swiss bank account, under the name of Salvatore Aldo Marrocco, the DiMatteo Family Consigliere. Of that amount, ten million was transferred to a Cayman Islands bank account under the name of Joseph Francis O’Leary, his mother’s maiden name and now, his legal alias.
DiMatteo then arranged to have two million of those proceeds cashed in and sent, via private boat, to Joseph Kilbane. A Haitian driver had delivered a large black satchel earlier that week to the former Monsignor, to secure the closing purchase of his large mansion and for his own living expenses on the island. He knew that, even though he had to split the settlement proceeds with the Vatican and Little Tony, Kilbane still had enough money to secure his comfortable retirement for the rest of his life on that private island.
A tanned, dark haired, beautiful women brought him over another Manhattan. She had gone back to the villa to change out of her bathing suit and was wearing a casual pair of white Capri pants and a red, sexy, mid-drift tee shirt, which exposed her pierced belly button.
“Hey, honey,” she exclaimed, as she kissed Kilbane on the lips. They had just shared a wonderful, ocean front dinner together and was finally feeling relaxed. She arrived by boat that morning after her long, grueling flight, which originated from Detroit’s Metro Airport on the prior day.
“Hey, Olivia. You didn’t you get yourself a drink?”
“No, baby. I’ve had enough alcohol for one day.”
Olivia Laurent had spent most of the day relaxing with Kilbane on the desolate island, laying on the beach. She had been enjoying the warm, ocean water and the mansion pool nearby. She watched the sun slowly set, along with her priest-boyfriend, with whom she had an intense, romantic relationship with for the last two years.
She laid down on the lounge chair after adjusting her seat and placed another kiss on Kilbane’s cheek.
“This is such a wonderful life,” as she looked towards the setting sun, grasping his hand.
As the sunset had finally settled over the secluded island, Kilbane glanced over to Olivia and smiled. He then gazed over the clear, blue Atlantic Ocean and took another long sip of his drink. Fidgeting with his ruby, red cross ring, the former Monsignor proudly smiled to himself.
At long last, ‘Brother Ezekiel’ now had it made.
Acknowledgements
My thanks to the many people who helped, assisted and inspired me in writing and completing this novel:
To John Scott Aiello, a wonderful friend whose many high school stories and recollections were a huge inspiration.
To Lori Munoz, Michael Spilotro of Arezzo Jewelry, George Shea of AMI Group, and Officer Sergeant James Ciannella of the Chicago Police Department 18th District for all their proofreading and technical advice. Their editing and story suggestions were of great assistance.
To Erich Vokral of Allwebco Designs, for his book cover designs on this book and the ‘Of Bread & Wine’ novel.
To my daughter Gianna Potempa, and my son-in-law, Pete Potempa, for their formatting and market-ing skills, and for all of their help and patience with me.
To my classmates in my writing workshop, for all their recommendations and constructive comments.
To my three sons, Roberto, Matteo and Stefano, whose names I have periodically inserted in my writing. A reminder to always work hard, dream big, and to never give up on your goals, no matter how big or small.
And to Ginette Piagentini, for her story advice and her help with editing. My thanks to her for being my captive audience and tolerating my 3:00am writing sessions.
Her support, her encouragement and her love have been nothing short of amazing.