“I did not. But when you showed me the crucifix when we were in Rome the last time, before we were even dating, I knew he saw something special in you. It’s the same thing I see every day.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. It was hard trying to pin down this supposed elusive quality in me that no one could scientifically or rationally explain.
“You do realize there is a lot of pressure to live up to this specialness, whatever it is. I’m the most ordinary person on the planet, with the exception of my abnormal awkwardness and that little black cloud that follows me around. I hope that everyone’s belief in me is not misplaced.”
“Never.” Slash lifted my hand to his mouth as he drove and kissed my knuckles. “There are many things in this world I’m not sure of, cara, but trust me, that is not one of them.”
Chapter Fifty
Father Julian Koenhein
Julian waited until the red light on his phone disappeared indicating that Cardinal Lazo had hung up with Cardinal Bertello, the Archbishop of Roselle. He waited another two minutes for good measure and then knocked softly on the cardinal’s door.
“Enter.”
Julian opened the door and stepped inside tentatively. “Your Eminence, I have news to report.”
“It better be information on the DNA sample.”
“Yes, it is, but first I wanted to let you know that our sources report that Slash and his fiancée met with the Holy Father this afternoon.”
“What? Here at the Vatican?”
“Yes. It was a private audience, initiated by the Holy Father himself.”
Cardinal Lazo thought that over. “No doubt prompted by Emilio Armando.”
“Perhaps, but the official reason was that Slash and his fiancée saved many paradegoers in Salerno from an explosion. No one was injured except for the fiancée, who received a concussion and was briefly hospitalized.”
Julian walked over and laid a copy of the La Città di Salerno newspaper on the cardinal’s desk. The front page was mostly taken up with a large picture of Slash, wearing no shirt and holding the propane tank in his hands, looking like a Roman god.
“They saved dozens of lives yesterday,” Julian explained. “Including an entire children’s choir. The press is calling them the new Saviors of Salerno. They were presented medals at the mayor’s office.”
Cardinal Lazo drummed his fingers against the desk, frowning in displeasure. “What were they doing in Salerno?”
“I don’t know.”
The cardinal set down the paper. “It doesn’t matter. None of this matters. Have we received the results from the DNA sample yet?”
“We have. The good news is that the DNA is not from a dog this time. It’s definitely human, and it’s Slash’s.”
“At last. So, what did we discover? Did you cross-reference his DNA with Father Armando’s?”
“We did. I’m sorry, Your Eminence, it’s not a match.”
Father Lazo sat back in his chair, stunned. “What? It’s not a match? That’s impossible. I was certain. Give me that paper.”
Julian handed him the paper. The cardinal took it and studied it for a long time. Finally he leaned back in, turning his chair around to stare out the window.
Julian waited quietly and patiently—behavior that had served him well in the many years he had been with the cardinal. Finally the cardinal turned around. “I want you to have the technician cross-reference this DNA with the Holy Father’s.”
Julian stared at the cardinal completely aghast. “What? We couldn’t possibly. Your Eminence...the sacrilege. The technician wouldn’t do it.”
“Everyone has a price, Father. Find his, and get it done.”
“But... I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Did I ask for your opinion?”
Julian stammered to find the right words. “N-no. But if this were to get out...”
“It won’t. That will be all.”
“But, Your Eminence, I must protest—”
“I said that will be all, Father. Do your duty.”
“Yes, of course.” Julian left the room, his stomach churning. He leaned against the closed door, feeling nausea sweep through him.
For the first time in his life, he was deeply concerned about the future of the church.
Chapter Fifty-One
Lexi
“I got us a suite at the Hotel Portrait Roma,” Slash said as we drove into the city. “It’s three blocks from here and it has parking.”
“Works for me. It will feel good to have a shower. All these meetings with important politicians and religious figures has maxed me out. No offense.”
“None taken. I’m with you on that.”
We found the hotel without incident, turned the car over to a valet and checked into our room. I went straight to the window. The view was a busy street facing another building with gorgeous windows and balconies.
“What’s this street?” I asked, pointing below us.
“It’s the Via Condotti. If you look up there, you can see the famous Spanish steps. They were built in the 1700s by the French to link the Spanish Embassy and the Trinità dei Monti church to the Holy See.”
“I remember reading about the steps in high school,” I said.
He stood next to me, resting his hands on the rail. “Then you’ll likely remember that in ancient Roman times, the Via Condotti was one of the largest passages that allowed those who traveled the Tiber River to reach Pincio Hill, a coveted spot overlooking the city. The most beautiful villas and gardens were built here. The street is named after those conduits that carried water to the famous baths at Agrippa.”
We stood there on the balcony for a few minutes, people watching and thinking about the history of the street below before returning to the room.
“How’s the wifi?” I asked, opening my laptop bag and pulling out my computer.
“The wifi is excellent.”
“Great, let’s get set up.” I put my laptop on the desk, reaching for my power cord.
“Did I mention I love a girl with a one-track mind?”
“When it comes to hacking, I’m that girl,” I answered, crawling under the desk and plugging in the laptop. “Slash, the pope said you’d finish it. Do you know what he meant?”
“I do.” Slash sat in front of his laptop, and handed me his power cord since I was still under the desk. I plugged it in and crawled out while he booted it up. “He’s giving me permission to go after Lazo.”
“What do you mean ‘permission’?”
“I’m going to take him down. Just that.”
A twinge of alarm ran through me. “Take him down...how?”
Slash typed some commands on the keyboard. “I’m not going to kill him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Although I will admit it crossed my mind more than once. I have a plan, one that came to me while we were in Sperlonga. But it means I need to get into his system, so a hack on the Vatican is in order. If something goes wrong, the pope will protect me.”
“Hacking into the Vatican,” I repeated. “I had this same discussion with Elvis a few days ago.” I sat on the edge of the bed, crossed my arms. “How are we going to hack in to the Vatican? Your experience building the system notwithstanding, you don’t happen to have a handy backdoor into the system, do you?”
“Unfortunately, I do not. It will take work and time, but with your help, we’ll do it.”
“I have no doubt about that, but can we discuss the elephant in the room first?”
He typed something and turned the chair around to face me, his keen eyes assessing me. “I’m listening.”
I shifted on my feet. “I don’t want to play devil’s advocate here, for a number of reasons, but what if you being here is exactly what the pope wanted all along? We assumed Lazo summoned you, and maybe he was the one w
ho sent the note and the statue. But what role do you think the pope has in all of this? You’re a very powerful weapon, Slash, and he knows that. I want to make sure you understand what you’re doing and why, even if you’ve been told what to do by the most powerful religious man in the world.”
His astonishment was genuine. “You’d challenge the pope on my behalf?”
Sometimes, I just didn’t get men. Okay, I pretty much never understood them. How could he be surprised? Of course, I’d challenge anyone who threatened him. I’m his fiancée, and it was logical that I’d stand up for the man I loved. That’s what I was doing in Italy in the first place.
“If I think he doesn’t have your best interests at heart, I would,” I said. “I’m sorry if that upset you.”
“Upset me?” He reached out and hauled me from the bed into his arms. “Could I possibly love you more?” He framed my face with his hands and gave me a long, lingering kiss. “God, how I adore you.”
I pulled back, studied him. “Don’t change the subject. It’s a serious question, Slash. Do you trust the pope?”
“I know it’s a serious question, cara.” He rubbed my jawline with his thumbs. “And it’s a fair one, too. I trust the pope implicitly. Not just because he’s my pope, but because I personally know him to be a man of honor and integrity. I can’t say the same about Cardinal Lazo.”
“I agree with that. So long as you’re sure about it.”
“I am.”
“Fine. Then what’s the plan?”
He dropped his hands, returned to the desk chair. “I’m going to hack into Lazo’s work computer. I need to know what he’s plotting against Father Armando and the pope. I’ve already been inside his private computer and had a look at his financials. He’s socked away money he shouldn’t, and he’s taking donations from questionable people, but it’s not enough to hang him. I need a smoking gun, for lack of a better analogy.”
“Getting into the Vatican network will take some time,” I reminded him. “We both know that from firsthand experience.”
“I know.” He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his neck. “Which is why we need to start as soon as possible. I’ll be lucky to get in within forty-eight hours. Seventy-two hours is probably a closer bet, and that’s with me having built and secured the Vatican network from the ground up.”
I considered for a moment. “You know, that actually gives me an idea. This past year I’ve learned over and over again that people are the weakest link in cybersecurity. How about we go at this in a two-pronged attack? You on the Vatican hack and me elsewhere. We can see who gets there first.”
Slash looked at me curiously. “You have my full attention, cara. What do you have in mind?”
Taking a deep breath, I told him.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Father Julian Koenhein
Julian Koenhein loved Rome. He loved his job. He had his calling to the priesthood at fourteen years old and had never looked back. As the second eldest of seven children, he came from a hard-working Catholic family. His life growing up in Germany revolved around the church from a young age, and he remembered well the catechism, church services, and was enthralled by the mystery and magic of the mass. Unlike most children, who couldn’t sit still or fidgeted during the service, he would have spent all day in church, fascinated by the stained glass windows, the breathtaking paintings on the walls, the cavernous ceilings and the smell of incense. He had always felt at home in the church—his safe harbor.
Thankfully, his parents didn’t stop him from pursuing his passion. He was an average student, not particularly good-looking, awkward and horribly nearsighted. His parents hadn’t been able to afford new glasses, so he’d inherited a beat-up pair from his older brother, Karl. Maybe he was a little too quiet, more of a follower than a leader, but he’d pursued his passion with a devoted single-mindedness. Hadn’t his fierce commitment to the church and his work behind the scenes gotten him transferred to the Vatican, his lifelong dream?
Then why did he feel like it was all going wrong?
He’d always been a good team player. He’d always done as he was asked, usually going above and beyond the required duties. He loved the church, but he wasn’t naive, and he knew violence was sometimes necessary to preserve peace and further the expansion of the church. There were, of course, the crusaders, but there was also the dark history of the Spanish Inquisition. Sometimes progress required sacrifice. For twenty-seven years he’d been unfailingly loyal to Lazo.
But now he wondered.
Deep in thought, he walked along the street to his small apartment, going through the small neighborhood park. He was admiring some of the colorful summer blooms when he collided with someone walking in the opposite direction. Books scattered everywhere and a young blonde woman fell backward onto her bottom.
“Mi scusi!” he said.
“Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” she said in English. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Um...non c’è problema.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I speak English. Are you okay?”
She rose to her knees, putting her hand in his so he could pull her to her feet. He was momentarily taken aback by the gloves on her hand.
“Oh, my. Are you injured?” he asked.
“No. I have psoriasis. The gloves are protection against the sun.” She started gathering her books, so Julian knelt and began to help her. As they crawled around, he noticed the beautiful silver crucifix she wore around her neck. He’d seen a cross like that before, but exactly where eluded him.
“I really must apologize again,” she said. “I’m such a klutz. Oh, wait, are you a priest? Well, that was a dumb question seeing as you’re wearing the cassock.”
Julian smiled. “Yes. I’m a priest. Are you visiting Rome?”
She shook her head. “No. Not exactly. I’m a journalism student at the university. Is your church here in the neighborhood?”
“I don’t have a parish. I work at the Vatican.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? That is so cool.”
“Well, I think so.” He smiled indulgently.
“Hey, do you think I could interview you? I’m doing a feature article about priests at the Vatican for my college newspaper back in the US It’s titled The Path to the Vatican. If would be so great to hear all about how you became a priest and how your career led you to the Vatican.”
“Oh, I’m afraid I’m just a clerk there.”
“That doesn’t matter to me, and it won’t matter to my readers. I think the kids would be interested in your story.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Do you have a few minutes? We could sit on that bench over there. It’s a nice evening and we could talk.”
He looked around. She was right. It was a beautiful summer evening. A couple were strolling hand-in-hand along the path and a woman pushing a pram was not too far behind them. Teenagers sat in the grass, legs tucked under them talking and laughing. There was no reason he had to rush home to an empty apartment. Besides, he enjoyed practicing his English.
“I guess I could spare a few minutes.”
“Great! Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
They sat on the bench. The young woman put her books on the empty space beside them and pulled out her cell phone.
“Is it okay if I use my cell phone to record our interview?” She smiled at him, and Julian thought she had a really nice smile.
“Sure, I guess that would be fine.”
“By the way, my name is Lara. What’s your name?”
“I’m Father Julian Koenhein.” He spelled his last name when she asked him to do so.
“Okay, let’s start at the beginning,” she said. “How did you become a priest?”
He walked her through his life, pausing only when she asked follow-up questions. Before he knew it, more than
an hour had passed. An hour he’d greatly enjoyed. Maybe this was a sign from God that he needed to get out more—have meaningful conversations with people other than the priests in his office.
She finally clicked off the recorder. “Thank you so much. Do you mind if I take your photo to accompany the article?”
“Of course.”
She snapped a couple of photos and frowned as she studied them.
“Something wrong?” Julian asked, wishing he were twenty years younger, thirty pounds lighter and hadn’t lost so much hair.
She looked up in surprise. “No. These are good, but they don’t really make a powerful statement. I wish I could get a couple of photos of you with the Vatican in the background or, even better, in your office. I mean, I presume you’re really busy, but do you think it would be possible for us to meet, maybe during your lunch hour, so I could snap a few more photos? I would promise to take no more than ten minutes of your time. I’d be happy to bring you lunch.”
“Well, that would be kind of you. When would you like to come?”
“Would tomorrow work? My deadline is fast approaching and I need time to transcribe the interview and determine word count.”
“We’ll make it work. Write your name on a piece of paper for me and I’ll make sure you are cleared by security to enter around noon. Would that be satisfactory for you?”
“Yes. That would be perfect.”
He rattled off the address where she should enter and she recorded it on her phone. She then wrote her name in a notebook and tore off a piece of the paper, handing it to him. “Thank you so much. This has really been great.”
“My pleasure,” he said, because it really had been.
He returned to his seat on the bench and watched her go, thinking about her silver and wood crucifix and wondering if it were a sign his life was about to change.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Lexi
“We’re a go,” I said when I returned to the hotel room. I pulled the blonde wig off my head and tossed it on the bed. “He didn’t recognize me, thankfully. We’ll meet at noon tomorrow so I can take photos of him in his office and around the Vatican.”
No Stone Unturned: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eleven Page 30