The Hounds of Rome - Mystery of a Fugitive Priest

by Tom Clancy

  “The Hounds of Rome — Mystery of a Fugitive Priest,” by Tom Clancy. ISBN 978-1-62137-396-4 (softcover); 978-1-62137-397-1 (electronic copy).

  Cover art by Rex Poole.

  Published 2013 by Virtualbookworm.com Publishing Inc., P.O. Box 9949, College Station, TX 77842, US.

  © 2013, Tom Clancy. TXu 1-848-576. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Tom Clancy.

  To LaRee

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I firmly believe that no book can be produced in a vacuum. Not only does it take the ability of the writer to outline a plot and set down the words, but the life experiences of others to provide valuable inputs, suggestions and corrections.

  LaRee Simon, a Diplomate clinical social worker, read the draft manuscript several times and reviewed the psycho-social behaviors appropriate for the characters in the situations they encountered in the story.

  Barbara Rule, fellow author, proofed the manuscript and offered wise counsel and encouragement.

  Three of my daughters provided invaluable contributions to the project:

  Carolyn Clancy, a poet and author in her own right, edited the manuscript and helped develop a critical aspect of the plot.

  Susan Clancy, President of Rex Media, working with the publisher, produced the final camera-ready copy.

  Madelyn Rygg, associate editor of a national publication, reviewed the manuscript in detail and by means of questions, comments and suggestions, greatly improved the manuscript.

  My thanks and gratitude go to all who participated in this undertaking.

  PROLOGUE

  This is a work of fiction. The setting is at a time in the near future. The persons and events depicted are fictitious. The only exceptions are principally historic religious figures, such as the fairly recent popes: John XIII, Paul VI, John Paul I, John Paul II, Benedict XVI and Francis. The pope who appears in this story is an unnamed future pontiff.

  The Second Vatican Council (Vatican II) was instituted by Pope John XXIII, who, in the early 1960s, said he wanted to open the windows of the church and let in some fresh air. A major change in the liturgy resulted: the virtual elimination of the Latin Mass, referred to as the Tridentine Mass, that had been the worldwide standard for millennia. The revised liturgy was then performed in local languages, on occasion with guitar rather than organ music, and a decidedly more social atmosphere. Lay men and women were permitted to serve on the altar and some were even permitted to distribute the Holy Eucharist. Later popes, however, by encyclical letters, pressed for a return to the more traditional aspects of the church. Pope Benedict XVI has encouraged bishops to return to the traditional Tridentine Mass.

  The Passion Brothers Monastery in Arizona is fictional as are the Knights of Carthage in Rome. Both represent dogged religious zealots referred to in the story as the ‘Hounds of Rome’.

  The San Callisto Catacombs (in English – the Saint Callistus Catacombs) are located south of Rome on the Via Appia Antica – the ancient Roman Appian Way.

  Some of the action in the story takes place in the catacombs involving a fictional pack of marauding wild dogs. The San Callisto are the largest of the catacombs, stretching almost fifteen miles under Rome. In some areas the catacombs are five levels deep; they have not been completely explored; therefore, it may be possible to fall unexpectedly into deep crevasses. Although in actuality packs of marauding animals have never been discovered, it is possible that some have gained entry seeking shelter and food.

  Visitors to the catacombs will find the environment completely safe as long as they closely follow a guide as they proceed along well-trodden passageways.

  The ‘Hounds of Rome’ plays out against some of the ethical and moral issues that are likely to become important to religious organizations in the twenty-first century. The issues may in particular affect highly organized churches like the Roman Catholic Church as well as other Christian churches and non-Christian religions that have evolved longstanding traditional theology and doctrine. These serious issues and their resulting complications arise from the revolutionary biological technology under development that raises questions about the fundamental nature of humanity and its relationship to God.

  Across the horizons

  of the world I fled

  Pursued by The

  Hounds of Rome

  Reverend Steve Murphy, Diocesan Catholic Priest

  1

  His eminence, John Cardinal Wollman, Archbishop of Washington, a prince of the Roman Catholic Church, was angry. Seated at a large ornate desk in his spacious office in the Washington chancery, he tried in vain to suppress an anger that he knew was killing him. The cardinal, florid of face, heavyset, balding with the remains of a white fringe ringing the back of his head, suffered from a host of health problems not the least of which was failing short-term memory. As time passed, it made reliance on his principal auxiliary bishop, Phillip Rhinehart, more and more necessary.

  A full ten minutes had elapsed since Phillip Rhinehart had been summoned. The cardinal suspected that, as usual, Bishop Rhinehart was taking his sweet time before coming in from his adjoining office. The cardinal knew it would be the same worn excuse: tied up on the phone in an important matter. One might think that meeting with his superior wasn’t important. It was another example of Rhinehart’s tactics to remind the cardinal who was nearing seventy-nine that he had an excellent chance of either being forcibly retired to one of the church’s assisted living facilities or of dropping dead—whichever came first.

  Cardinal Wollman was well aware that the end of his exalted position as a luminary of the church, was drawing near. Knowing this to be the will of God, he tried to accept it. But late at night, sitting at his desk in the dark, he was despondent and frightened. In fact, he remembered one night when he was so depressed he actually saw the Angel of the Lord seated cross-legged on the corner of the desk...waiting. It was all just a matter of time.

  The cardinal reminded himself that Rhinehart had not been of his choosing. When his hand-picked principal auxiliary had retired five years before, of the four auxiliary bishops in the archdiocese he had found himself presented—saddled? with Bishop Rhinehart by those in Rome who believed that the American Catholic Church had become too liberal. Even the pontiff himself had spoken with admiration of “...our beloved brother, Phillip Rhinehart, who has struggled mightily to keep alive the church’s traditional moral values in an America that sometimes seemed to forget...to go astray.” But although he had found it onerous much of the time, the cardinal had tried to make the best of it. Unlike himself, Rhinehart acted more like the dictator of a small suppressed country rather than a good shepherd tending the flock of the archdiocese.

  Over five long years with almost daily pacing back and forth in front of the cardinal’s desk by his restless auxiliary bishop, Cardinal Wollman had come to know every facet of Phillip Rhinehart’s opinionated thinking. To stop the pacing, he often had to say, “For heaven’s sake, Phillip, you’re making me nervous. Sit down, or if you must pace, do it in your own office.”

  The cardinal had heard it so many times before. Each of the pronouncements was as worn as the beads on his rosary. His auxiliary bishop made no secret of the fact that he was a strict doctrinaire, convinced that the Second Vatican Council—Vatican II, had been an unmitigated disaster by opening the floodgates to all manner of dissent. He deplored the Catholic Church’s departure from the Latin Mass, abhorred the presence of women on the altar even in the minor role of
altar girls, and denounced parishioners who, after Vatican II, thought erroneously that pre-marital sex and birth control were only venial sins—minor disorders too trivial to bother confessing. Auxiliary Bishop Rhinehart held that Vatican II set the stage for immense difficulties for the popes who followed John XXIII, not only because of the rules it loosened but also because of the rules people thought it had loosened when in fact, that was not the case. The first pope who was destined to live with the backlash against Vatican II was Pope John Paul I who died only 33 days after he was elected pontiff. Apparently the Holy Spirit took the poor soul to spare him the anguish of dealing with the turmoil in the church—turmoil the sick man was ill-equipped to handle.

  Yes, the cardinal had heard it all; so many times in fact that it was like a ringing in his ears. He could quote Bishop Rhinehart from memory. According to his auxiliary who often said bitterly: “Wasn’t it within one year after Vatican II that priests began clamoring for the right to marry and then began wholesale defections when they found they could not? Didn’t an astonishing ten-thousand priests request of the Holy See permission to renounce their vows and leave the priesthood? And what of the laity who, in the years following Vatican II, misperceived that the church’s firm stand against divorce and remarriage would soon be relaxed? Would all of these, laity and clergy, remain practicing Catholics or join the millions who would be Catholics in name only?”

  Cardinal Wollman, having heard these diatribes over and over from his auxiliary, learned after a time to listen quietly without saying anything. He knew that if he raised counter-arguments—reflecting a somewhat more liberal approach, the debate could go on forever. Arguments with Rhinehart always brought a flush of scarlet to the sagging jowls of the cardinal’s face, a quickened heartbeat, the flatiron pain of angina, and most certainly a surge in his already high blood pressure. As the years had gone by and his memory had begun to fail, he found arguments increasingly difficult to win. In an attempt to maintain some semblance of control, he made some decisions in an impromptu fashion—some right and some perhaps wrong, avoiding argument by simply exercising his authority—all to the utter disgust of his subordinate. But perhaps more important to the cardinal than his ebbing competence, was his subordinate’s increasing arrogance directed towards the lower clergy and the laity of the archdiocese. Administering at the auxiliary bishop level, Bishop Rhinehart displayed a supercilious cold-heartedness that terrorized those beneath him.

  As he leaned back in his reclining chair and fingered the crucifix perched on his ample stomach, waiting for his auxiliary to appear, the cardinal said a silent prayer to subdue his irritation.

  A figure appeared at the open door—tall, thin, ramrod straight, iron gray hair cut flat brush-like short and pressed down on the tonsure by a small skullcap. Deep-set eyes and a beaklike nose gave the impression of a bird of prey. Bishop Rhinehart used the bent knuckle of his index finger for a formal, polite tap on the cardinal’s door to gain the attention of his superior who was seated head down, presumably concentrating on the papers on his desk. “Come in, Phillip.”

  “Good morning, Your Eminence.”

  “Phillip, I wanted to talk to you about this reverend...aah, yes, Reverend Murphy business. Are you familiar with the details?”

  “Yes, I’ve been following the case very closely, and if you recall, I was the one who originally brought it to your attention.”

  Another example of the cardinal’s failing memory, Rhinehart thought as he took a seat facing the cardinal’s desk. “The Murphy case presents a dangerous situation, potentially a huge embarrassment to the archdiocese and Holy Mother Church.”

  “I’m aware of that,” the cardinal snapped. “The question is what do we do about it?”

  “Why, transfer him of course.”

  “Where?”

  “The Passion Brothers Monastery in the Sonora Desert outside of Tucson comes to mind. After he gets a taste of it, Murphy will likely resign the priesthood and request a dispensation of his vows. It could all be handled quietly. We might actually avoid a massive revolt in the archdiocese.”

  “Aren’t you exaggerating?”

  “I think not.”

  “The Passion Monastery? That godforsaken place? One of the priests we sent to the monastery died there last year.”

  “The year before last.”

  “I understand it was under suspicious circumstances.”

  “That is only a rumor. My understanding was that it was an accident.”

  “But regarding Reverend Murphy, you may recall that he has been in the diocese for many years and pastor of Holy Rosary Church for...aah...how long has it been?”

  “Eight years.”

  “Oh yes, eight years. He has only to put the finishing touches on a grand new church for his parish. You may not be aware of it, but he single-handedly raised all the funding for the new church. The archdiocese wasn’t asked to contribute so much as a dollar. In fact, until this new information, I was getting ready to elevate him to Monsignor.”

  “Murphy, a Monsignor? Your Eminence, permit me to remind you of a few things you may have forgotten. The archdiocese contributed forty percent of the funding for Holy Rosary’s new church. You are confusing Holy Rosary with Holy Comforter Church, and you may recall, I raised stringent objections to the architecture Murphy decided on for the new church. Catholic churches should be designed in traditional fashion: a long nave symbolizing the upright shaft of Christ’s Cross; a nave that also offers a main aisle suitable for solemn processions at High Mass; in addition, a transept symbolizing the outstretched arms of Christ on the Cross...not these modern multi-colored ornate round glass bubbles that have no religious significance. Think of it. In such churches, you have to pray the Stations of the Cross in the round. Ridiculous! When Jesus walked the Via Dolorosa to his crucifixion on Mount Calvary, he walked in a straight line, not round and round like a carousel in an amusement park. He walked straight to his death. And I know I’ve mentioned this before but a Catholic Church should be built of solid stone designed to last thousands of years—following the tradition of the medieval Gothic churches and cathedrals. You are close to God in such a building, immersed in a dark interior lighted only by stained glass windows depicting events in the life of the Lord, the Blessed Virgin and the saints.”

  The cardinal uttered a weary sigh. He was being treated again to an all-too familiar lecture on the architecture of ancient and modern churches.

  “And as to the elevation of Father Murphy, although it might have seemed appropriate based on his long tenure, now of course, I think it is out of the question.”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” the cardinal said with resignation. “It is unfortunate based on his background. You may remember that he spent several years at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome. In fact, he was later offered a prestigious position in Vatican service but decided to return to America to perform diocesan work in a parish in our diocese.”

  “What you tell me about the offer of Vatican service makes it all the worse,” Bishop Rhinehart commented.

  “Phillip, based on the latest information, I am forced to agree with you.”

  The cardinal was embarrassed about his ill-fated plan to elevate Murphy. “We might of course ask Murphy to resign the priesthood.”

  “He won’t do that,” Bishop Rhinehart said with an air of finality. “I know the type. He won’t request to be released from his vows. We might defrock him if it could be done quietly, but Your Eminence well knows that the first thing a defrocked priest does is seek a lawyer and redress through the courts.”

  “Naturally. They are deprived of a chosen career, not to mention the income and a comfortable retirement.”

  “I believe we should get Murphy out of the way and the isolated Passion Monastery is the place. After a few months there, he’ll resign willingly.” The auxiliary bishop shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was growing tired of the discussion about this one priest when he had a million other things to attend
to. In making decisions, the principal auxiliary bishop of Washington never permitted himself to be swayed by emotions. The good of the church had to rise above any other consideration. And characteristically, in this case he had no feelings for the individual involved and deplored the soft-hearted stance the cardinal seemed to be taking despite the risk of tremendous embarrassment to the church. “Without prompt and appropriate action, the church will be harmed,” Bishop Rhinehart said finally in a determined whisper that had more force than a shout as he leaned forward in his chair to press home his point. “Your Eminence, information like that on Stephen Murphy always has a way of leaking out.”

  “The church has survived supposedly great harm in the past and has lived through what you refer to as embarrassment,” Cardinal Wollman said in rebuttal, leaning back in his leather swivel chair and folding his arms as he realized he was on the doorstep of another disagreement with his auxiliary. “Look at the business of the Austrian cardinal who sided with Hitler in the early days of World War II. The church survived that. And that whole Galileo business. It took the church four hundred years to admit that Galileo was right. Many people laughed, of course, but the church has overcome it and moved on. Phillip, I don’t think you fully appreciate the resiliency of the church.”

  “Perhaps not, but the Galileo thing is ancient history as is the story of that Austrian cardinal. Who really cares about the position taken by a churchman years ago in the time of Hitler and since repudiated? And with all due respect, let me remind you that Pope John Paul II did not say Galileo was correct. He simply said that there had been a miscommunication between Galileo and the church.”

  “Well, Phillip, I feel I must disagree with you again concerning the danger of Murphy’s case coming to light,” the cardinal said. Then standing up with a great deal of effort he slowly walked towards the door intending to usher his auxiliary out of his office. “We must take action, but we must also act with Christian charity. And we must give some consideration to the long service Murphy has provided to the church. My decision then is to move Murphy to Catholic University in a temporary teaching position.”