by Ken Hansen
In the early evening, Tomadus found Isa sitting on a bench near the Mare Internum seawall. As Tomadus approached, he studied the face of the man now staring blankly out to sea. Isa appeared tired and older than he remembered. The strain must be wearing on him. Tomadus sat beside him.
“I listened carefully to what you said today.”
“Only today?”
Tomadus laughed nervously. “Your take on good and evil is…different. I noticed you said money could be ‘good’ if it helped bring your message to the people.”
Isa nodded.
“I think I may have a way to use my money to do that,” Tomadus said.
Isa raised both eyebrows.
“I think I could pay for the broadcast of one of your speeches on the worldwide visi-scan. Think how many more people you could reach.”
“I thought the visi-scan was reserved for what they call news but most of us know as propaganda.”
“That’s true, but I think we could harness its power for our purposes. For a sizeable contribution and a little urging from the First Consul, I think we could arrange a broadcast.”
“So you would bribe them?”
Tomadus shook his head. “I would simply offer an open contribution with nothing expressly guaranteed in return. The First Consul would urge them to support my wishes.”
“And you do not call that a bribe?”
Tomadus shrugged. “What is in a name? There are no promises. What do you think?”
Isa stroked his beard. “You think the First Consul will help?”
“We have discussed it. We are both worried about what the religious leaders think of you. We need to change that.”
“Tomadus, you know they have not shepherded their flocks.”
“I know. I understand your criticism. But if you could turn them in your favor…”
“They have ears but do not hear. Have you listened?”
“I understand,” said Tomadus, “but you are showing everyone a new way. Sometimes it takes time. Still, if you are to have a chance, the leaders must trust that you yourself believe in what you say.”
“I speak every day in the Empires. They need only listen and observe.”
“They cannot be seen at your events. But with a broadcast it will be easy for them to see you speak. Even if you do not move them, you will be much safer if we can get the entire world behind you. You don’t think you’re safe walking in Tetepe, do you? Skjöldr now fears you. He will act when you are there next. But he will be powerless to do so if you expand your support among the people in the Three Empires and around the world.”
“Tomadus, you think of power as men do. Remember the lessons I taught Yohanan. Do not seek to change governments. Seek only to change the hearts of the people.”
“And your broadcast could change the hearts of many, including these religious leaders.”
Isa sighed and looked into Tomadus’s eyes. “You put much faith in the First Consul.”
“He has proven to be a friend.”
“The government will distort my message. We would not control the broadcast. They might edit it.”
“True, but we may be able to change that. I need to return to Roma for a few days. Where can I next rejoin you?”
“We are heading to Jerusalem.” Isa looked at Tomadus with a slack expression. “If you wish to act, you must act quickly.”
Chapter 78
Armondo Fine sat alone, staring at the brick wall and fidgeting with his fingertips but otherwise remaining composed. Except for Fine, the interrogation room contained only a table, three chairs and a video camera visibly hanging in the corner.
“He seems pretty calm. Do you think it will work?” asked Lieutenant Patismio to Huxley while they viewed the cardinal through the two-way mirror.
Huxley replied, “You think his manner means anything?”
“You tell me. You are the expert.”
“Unless we are dead wrong, it tells me he fully expected to get arrested. He’s already prepared for this interrogation. Looks to me like he’s going over the script in his head.”
“You can tell all that from looking at him?”
“Nah, just guessing,” Huxley said. “Let’s see what he says.”
The two men walked out of the observation room. Patismio waived his card by a reader.
Fine looked up and smiled at them as they entered. “Finally,” he said. “You have obviously made a mistake here. I have done nothing wrong.”
Patismio said, “That is what all the criminals say, Fine. I would have thought your education would at least allow you to dispense with the clichés.” Fine scowled and shook his head at this latest form of disrespect.
Huxley used a kind tone, “I’m sorry, Cardinal. Please forgive my colleague’s presumptions. Lieutenant, please do not prejudge this man. He is well known as a great supporter of true Catholics around the world. I know of him and his famed reputation for honesty and supporting the traditions of our great church. So please, I am sure he can help us clear up this matter so we can find the real culprits.”
Fine smiled and nodded at Huxley, “Grazie, signore. May I know your name?”
“I’m sorry. It’s Huxley. Christian Huxley.” Good time to pull out his full first name and give it a little emphasis. “I work with American Homeland Security.”
“You are a Roman Catholic?”
“I was proudly born to an Italian-American mother. Still, it is hard to find the Latin masses in America anymore. It was nice to see that St. Peter’s Basilica still honors that tradition, but I wonder how long that will last with the new pope changing everything.” Although he had not lied, he certainly ensured the prisoner drew a few misleading conclusions about his status and opinions. “I was shocked by the Vatican letting you go, Cardinal.”
“I am no longer a cardinal. I am not even a priest. They stripped me completely for simply guarding our heritage.”
Huxley shook his head, frowning. “How unjust that must feel! That must be why the Carabinieri decided to arrest you. Lieutenant, was this arrest ordered by the Vatican authorities, or do you have any real evidence here?”
“Atroce!” yelled Patismio. “You take the side of this defrocked terrorist? This is the last time we shall cooperate with you Americans. Finish your little love fest and then leave.” He stormed out the door.
Huxley did his best to look surprised as the door slammed but then turned toward Fine and shrugged. Huxley paused, looked at Fine as if in contemplation, and then looked over his shoulder at the camera with the red light. Slowly, he walked over near the door and pushed a red button. “Sergente, please turn off the video camera. I don’t think we need any recording of this discussion.” Huxley and Fine looked back at the camera and watched the red light go off. Huxley returned to the table and sat down casually.
Huxley flashed a smirk. “I’m sorry to say I think the fix is in here, Cardinal. As you know, the Vatican’s arms are pretty long here in Italy. Unfortunately, I am only an American and have no jurisdiction, but if you can tell me your story, I might be able to pull some strings and get you transported to the U.S., where we might be a bit more, shall I say, flexible?” Huxley could see Fine considering this vague offer, but the man was no fool.
After a few seconds, Fine said, “There is nothing I can tell you or I would. I think I am but a dupe in this whole thing. I do not even know with what I have been charged.”
“Oh, I can help you on that one. They think you are in league with some Islamic terrorists and bent on revenge against the Vatican. They believe you have already killed a Vatican spy, Dante Tocelli.”
“Tocelli? I do not believe I even know the man. He is dead, you say?”
Huxley answered, “Well, they can’t actually prove that. He just disappeared after he returned from Tel Megiddo. He said he saw you there. I’m guessing these guys are just jumping to conclusions because you happened to be on a sightseeing vacation, and he just happened to see you there. Am I right?”
Fine beamed. “That must be it! I did go there to see the dig and the beautiful history surrounding it. I have had considerable free time following my dismissal from the Vatican.”
“See, now that is what I told them, but they just don’t seem to care about the truth here. Does the new pope have it in for you or something?”
“It would appear so. I can go nowhere without constant interference from his agents.”
Huxley shook his head. “Such a tragedy. Hell, you should have been the pope—a true Italian pope—instead of that, that—” Huxley stopped speaking, pursed his lips and scrunched his eyebrows close together and shook his head, then finished with “—that South American.”
“Precisamente.”
“So how long were you at Tel Megiddo?” Huxley asked.
“Oh, no more than a week. I saw the site and was intrigued, so I stayed on and learned more of its history from some of the people working there.”
“I see. And did you see Tocelli there? I think he was participating in the dig. I’m sure you must have seen him.”
Fine opened his palms to Huxley. “Oh probably, though I doubt I would have noticed him much. Was he a student?”
“Exactly. I’m sure he knew you but you didn’t know him.”
“Certainly.”
“He also mentioned seeing a wild jungle animal at Tel Megiddo. Lord it is a wonder these people believe anything the man said.”
“A jungle animal?” asked Fine.
Huxley studied the cardinal’s eyes. A hint of worry leaked from their depths. Fine was trying hard to keep it all inside. “Yes,” Huxley said, “a leopard or something ridiculous like that.” Now a deep pain trembled the lashes. The man was fighting himself.
Fine laughed, but it was too tight, too forced. “How silly.”
“I agree. He even said you met with this animal, but he called him by the Latin name, I forget it now.” Huxley looked up as if he were trying hard to think of the word. “Oh, what is it, again?” Huxley snapped his fingers a few times.
“Pardus?” the cardinal said.
“That’s it!” exclaimed Huxley, but he was secretly relishing the obvious recognition of the name reflected in Fine’s voice, chin and eyes. “Do you know him?”
“Him?” asked Fine. “I thought we were speaking of an animal.”
“No, I think he meant a person named Pardus. What do you think? Did you meet with a man named Pardus at Tel Megiddo? I’m sure he is just some bit player in this. Maybe a digger or something?”
“Yes, I think you are right. I do seem to have met someone with that nickname. He was just a digger, but we had caffè together one time. I think he may have been Arab, no…, yes, I believe he was. He spoke with an Arab accent anyway.”
Huxley nodded. “Oh, that makes sense. I know they use Arabs at those sites sometimes. Do you remember his name, just so I can cross that one off my list?”
“Hard to remember. I doubt I ever knew it.”
Huxley leaned in. “Think hard. That may help me wrap enough of this up to bring you back to the States. You ever been there? I could show you a few sights when this is over.”
“No, I have never managed to visit.”
Huxley sat back. “Great, then let’s do it. Now what did you say Pardus’s name was again?”
Fine looked down, pressing his lips together for a few seconds, and then shook his head. “I just cannot recall. Mi dispiace.”
“No problem,” Huxley responded quickly. “Let’s just move on and see if we can finish this up. Now, let’s see.” Huxley flipped through his pad. “It looks like you returned to Italy at almost the same time as Tocelli. We haven’t seen him since. Nobody had seen you since, either, so naturally they thought that you either had suffered the same fate as Tocelli or were responsible for his. So help me out here. What have you been doing for the past few weeks behind closed doors?”
“Nothing of interest to you, Mr. Huxley. Remember, despite the Vatican’s orders, I remain a holy man in my heart. I often spend weeks in seclusion simply praying that God will deliver me from this torment.”
“I understand, Your Eminence. So you never saw Tocelli during that time, right?”
“I would doubt it.”
“Okay, great. I think we are almost there.” Huxley smiled gently at Fine, and Fine returned the smile. “You meet with anybody during this period? Anyone at all?”
“No. I was in seclusion. My landlady brought me groceries and the like. Otherwise, I was devoted to God.”
“So no visits from anyone? Not even your new friends from Tel Megiddo?”
Fine shook his head.
“I see.” Huxley shifted forward in his chair. “Say, with all of this time on your hands, have you thought about starting a grassroots movement?”
“Eh?”
“Well, like-thinking Catholics might follow you quite a ways, you know.” Huxley whispered, “You ever think about getting something like that going?”
“I have my moments.”
“I’m sure. You ever discuss it with any Arabs?”
“Arabs?” the cardinal asked slowly.
“Well, look, I know you are just forgetting, because I know you want to be open with me, but we know you met with an Arab man last night at Piazza del Campidoglio—not ten minutes before you were arrested. Can you enlighten me on that?” Huxley saw Fine’s neck muscles tighten and his eyes widen. They betrayed Fine’s surprise. How was it possible Fine had not realized he knew about the meeting? Could it be that it was not Fine’s henchman who “knocked out” Sonatina after all? But the man revealed his nervousness now. It seemed Fine had thought this was a secret he would be able to keep, but now he was wondering just how much Huxley knew. Huxley saw Fine look up at nothing in particular to his left. He was trying to invent a response that would satisfy.
After staring at the wall a few seconds, Fine said, “Oh, I, uh, I am sorry I forgot to mention that. I thought you were asking about visitors to my sanctuary. How stupid of me. Yes, I just ran into a man I had met at Tel Megiddo. It was no big deal. Just spoke with him for a minute or two and then moved on. I had forgotten all about it.”
“Of course, no problem. Did you give him anything at the meeting?”
“I don’t think so, did I?”
Huxley smiled. Now the guy was asking him. Fine wanted to know if he had to make up another lie. “Well, so I have been told. What was it?”
“I cannot recall. Maybe it was a cigarette or something.” Fine was now sweating profusely.
“Uh huh, yeah, makes sense. Oh yeah, I know I forgot something. So tough to remember stuff sometimes. Where is this sanctuary where you lived?” When Fine gave him the address quickly and willingly, Huxley smiled, hiding his disappointment. The Carabinieri would not find any more evidence there.
“Grazie, you have been very cooperative, Cardinal. If I can just get the name of the man you met last night, I’m sure I can clear everything up.”
Fine stared back at him, shaking his head slowly, signaling he just could not recall.
Huxley grimaced and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’d love to help you more, Cardinal Fine, but I just don’t have enough to convince my guys it is worth the political fallout.” Huxley stood up to leave.
“No, wait,” said Fine, and Huxley sat down. “I think…I think it was just that insignificant digger from Tel Megiddo.” Now he’s slipping into a half-truth, hoping that will save him. Let’s see how far he will go.
“Oh yes, what did you say his name was again?”
“Bakeer Nawa, or something like that.”
Huxley bit both cheeks and his bottom lip without showing any expression, thus performing another small miracle of self-restraint borne of his long years of interrogations. “Okay, let me see.” He looked at a pad with some scribbling on it that had nothing to do with Tel Megiddo. “I have a guy on my list from the Tel Megiddo dig called Baqir Najwa. I think he might be an Arab. Could that be it?”
“Yes, yes, that is it!”
exclaimed Fine.
Huxley nodded gently, though inside every nerve cell in his body was firing at once. What the hell? Najwa’s cold, dead body should have been resting in an Israeli morgue for several months now. Is this just another ruse, or have we been fooled all along? Confused, Huxley nearly stood up to go and let Patismio have his turn as the bad cop, but then he decided to explore one more aspect of this case that was still bothering him. “Hey, I forgot to mention, I met a woman from the Vatican Museums who said to say ‘Ciao.’”
“Sonatina D’Amare. A lovely lady, indeed.” Fine’s eyes glistened as he looked up and away from the table and slowly spread a smile across his cheeks.
Huxley bit the inside of his lip. Shit. He smiled warmly. “Oh, she didn’t mention how she knows you.”
“We go back to my Florentine days, of course. I was a bishop there, you know. But I also worked with her awhile when I served on the Vatican Museum Oversight Board. She gives a great tour—lots of spark, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Huxley. “You should ask her for one.”
Huxley could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck. The cardinal cherishes more than just the tours. He forced a smile, happy the blood boiling inside him would not release steam out of his ears. “Perhaps I will.”
Chapter 79
“Tomadus, it is good to finally see you again. You have done well.” First Consul Khansensius nodded slightly toward him as they stood in the First Consul’s office in Roma.
Tomadus bowed deeply and suppressed a grin. This powerful man was looking out for him. “Gratias, but I am not sure what I have done except follow my heart.”
“You have ingratiated yourself with Isa and his…followers. That allows me to help you help him. Is that not where your heart has taken you?”
