All’s well with those two, Moretti thought. Two people who have caused me more inconvenience than any others on earth have now been dealt with satisfactorily. And there’s only one left to teach a lesson. And what a lesson she’s going to get!
He picked up his throwaway cellphone and made a call to the 214 area code in the United States.
Dallas, Texas.
After a twenty minute conversation the plan was in place to exact retribution from the third of his enemies.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The morning after Cardinal Conti returned to Rome Giovanni Moretti’s cellphone rang.
The Cardinal sounded ecstatic. “I just wanted to offer my apology. The manuscript is everything I hoped it would be and more. It’s undoubtedly the most interesting thing I have ever read – without your resourcefulness I wouldn’t have it. Although your late-stage negotiating irritated me, everything was worth it. Five million US was a small price to pay for what I’ve seen so far. And I’ve hardly begun, Giovanni.”
Moretti was surprised but cautious. He and Cardinal Conti had been good friends once but everything had gotten strained over the manuscript. Giovanni Moretti owed the cleric a debt – there was no doubt about that – and he had decided to demand money for the ancient volume mostly as a matter of principle. Moretti had plenty of money already but everyone could use a little more, he reasoned, and the Church had plenty to spare. Besides, he could keep his friend the Cardinal on edge. That was always pleasant. A little game he played.
Choosing to take Conti’s statement at face value, he said, “Thank you, Dominic. I regret your anger earlier but I’m glad to see you feel you got value for your hard-earned money.” Moretti laughed and, surprisingly, so did Cardinal Conti. Moretti’s initial concerns eased.
“You drive a hard bargain, Giovanni, but you had me in a tight place and you bargained well. I want to show you what the manuscript revealed. I think you will be astounded. The information in this book will change history, and you were an integral part of bringing it to light. Meet me for lunch on Thursday and I’ll give you the revelation of your life.”
Moretti couldn’t help but be intrigued. He agreed and they picked a time and place.
At the appointed hour Cardinal Conti sat in a booth at the back of Ristorantino Moccia facing the entrance so he could watch for Giovanni Moretti. The tiny place near the Coliseum had only eight tables. Except for Conti the place was empty when Moretti entered, a tinkle from a bell over the door announcing his arrival. He slid in the booth across from Conti and smiled.
“Good to see you under better circumstances, Eminence.”
“And you, Giovanni. It’s good indeed to see you as well.”
Moretti was pleased to see the cleric so happy. He had been concerned when they met in New York that this powerful man might try to retaliate. But it seemed they were back on familiar ground – two old friends who had just consummated a deal that benefitted both sides.
Moretti recognized the folder sitting on the table, the one he had placed in the locker at the New York gym, the one that had held the manuscript. The old man motioned to it. “What do you have to show me?”
“Patience, my good man. A friend once told me to have patience.” Conti laughed heartily and Moretti smiled.
“I suppose I had that coming, my friend.”
A waiter took Cardinal Conti’s order for a bottle of Chianti as the doorbell tinkled lightly again. Conti glanced up then looked at Giovanni Moretti.
“I don’t know how I can repay you for all you’ve done, Giovanni. I can only hope I’ve been fair with you.”
“Fair? I got exactly what I asked for, Cardinal…”
The cleric’s face beamed with a broad smile as he quietly said, “And now, my friend, you’ll get exactly what you deserve.”
“What did you say?” Moretti stopped as two men came to their booth. They were dressed identically in black suits and ties with white shirts.
One of the men acknowledged the Cardinal, looked at Moretti and pulled out a badge and ID card. “I am Inspector Gamboli and this is my associate. We are from the DIA.”
Moretti blanched. The Direzione Investigativa Antimafia is a branch of the national Italian police force aimed at fighting organized crime. He was well familiar with the DIA.
“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake.”
The Inspector looked at Cardinal Conti who jovially replied, “John, you know there’s no mistake.” He gestured expansively toward Moretti. “This is your man, inspector.”
“John Spedino, you’re under arrest for murder, drug trafficking and unlawful flight to avoid prosecution.” The men pulled Moretti out of the booth, handcuffs ready.
And suddenly John Spedino, the missing godfather who had become Giovanni Moretti, was a fugitive no longer. He glared at Dominic Cardinal Conti who was positively beaming with delight. If looks could kill, as the saying goes, there would have been one dead Cardinal in the restaurant.
As the officers began to roughly usher Spedino out, he turned to Conti and hissed, “Don’t I even get a kiss, Judas?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Vatican City
Now that Giovanni Moretti had been properly repaid for his insolence Dominic Cardinal Conti could get to work. Conti was amused at how easily he had flushed Moretti into the hands the DIA. The man had grown old and complacent. There was a time, the Cardinal reflected, when Spedino would have been too wary and crafty to be caught like a fish in a barrel. But not this time. John Spedino wouldn’t get away again – after the godfather’s escape from Pavon Prison in Guatemala the President ordered the FBI to find and recapture him. The drug trafficking charges lodged against Spedino in the States hadn’t gone away when he was convicted of murder in the Central American country. The American government wouldn’t let him go now. He was going to prison in the United States this time.
Getting the attention of the authorities had been simple. Once Cardinal Conti arrived back in Rome with the manuscript he placed a call to the FBI’s Manhattan office. Once he mentioned the reason for the call and who he was, it took only a moment for the prestigious official of the Catholic Church to be connected with Special Agent-in-Charge Jack Underwood.
Apologetically Conti explained that he might have inadvertently helped precipitate the bombing in New York because of his request to a man named Giovanni Moretti.
“I wanted a manuscript for the Vatican Archives – one volume that had been missing from a set for hundreds of years,” the Cardinal said. “The Church has the others. Once I read in the New York Times that the last volume was extant I asked Mr. Moretti to obtain it for us. In past years he has been a major benefactor of the church and I was aware he collects rare works of literature. It seemed natural to use him as an intermediary. We do this often. When sellers learn the Church wants something the price usually skyrockets. It happens all the time when we evidence interest in an antiquity. So we use middle-men to help us discreetly acquire items of interest.”
Conti continued his lie. “I became concerned as I spoke more with Mr. Moretti about this project. He seemed eager, like a schoolboy almost. When I saw the news and realized he had obviously been behind the bombing on Fifth Avenue, not to mention having someone steal the manuscript itself, I recorded my next meeting with him.”
He had heavily edited the recording. At this point it had become simply an excerpt from the middle of their conversation during the aborted lunch meeting in Rome. Regardless, Moretti’s language was clear. What was omitted completely was the rest of the conversation – the part that showed Conti’s complicity in the crime.
Underwood asked the Cardinal to play the recording.
As it began the agent listened closely. First he heard Cardinal Conti’s voice.
“I asked you to get a manuscript for me, Giovanni. Not to kill eleven people and blow up a building. Are you crazy? Did you think I would condone this atrocity?”
“I followed your direction, Your Eminence. My enthus
iasm in creating such a scene wasn’t because of you. It was an old score that needed settling. Someone needed a lesson and through my efforts, that person got one. You needn’t worry about how I handle my responsibilities. By now you should know that. We’ve worked together a long time, Dominic. Don’t start second-guessing me now. You’ll have your manuscript. Let it go, my friend.
“Although I utilized what appeared to be a priest in the operation, it will ultimately be clear to the authorities that the Church was actually not involved at all. The man will easily be recognized as an impostor once they investigate.”
Agent Underwood was speechless. Here was the major break he’d needed – convincing evidence that Giovanni Moretti, whoever he was, had masterminded the Fifth Avenue bombing. He spent another few minutes talking with Conti, who advised nothing of substance followed that dialogue and he had erased the balance. If it had been anyone else, Agent Underwood might have been suspicious. But this man was one of the highest-ranking people in the Vatican, head of the Church’s bank. He was above reproach.
The FBI agent arranged to have a man from the US Embassy in Rome pick up a copy of the recording.
Cardinal Conti had done one more thing to help the FBI. In order to get a Vatican passport John Spedino had been fingerprinted. It was a requirement no one could avoid, but behind the scenes the cleric had ensured the fingerprint card of this “friend of the Church” wasn’t processed through Interpol. Before contacting the authorities Conti had made a call. Suddenly the prints were distributed to the international police agency for comparison to known criminals worldwide.
Four days later Special Agent Underwood called the Cardinal. Moretti, the agent said, was actually John Spedino, the missing godfather of the New York mob who had fled Guatemala while serving a life sentence for murder. He was a dangerous man and had once been the most powerful mobster in America, the agent told a seemingly incredulous Cardinal.
“How did he get to Italy?”
“Eminence, he somehow obtained a Vatican City passport and used it to travel from Central America to Italy. Interpol confirms the number of the passport he carries is not in the Vatican’s system. It’s probably forged.”
Conti knew all this of course, having been instrumental in Spedino’s relocation to Italy after his escape. On the phone with the FBI agent Conti managed to sound suitably appalled. Despite expressing concern for his own safety, the Cardinal generously offered to try to help the FBI and Italian DIA flush Spedino out of hiding, since even Cardinal Conti actually didn’t know where Spedino lived in Rome. Spedino had taken the bait and the rest was history. The FBI got their man without spending too much time checking the doctored tape. The Cardinal was free from involvement. He had become a key asset in the apprehension of an international criminal instead of an accessory to a major crime. And the FBI agent had assured him that Conti’s own involvement in the entire matter would remain completely confidential. There was no need for a high-ranking official of the Church to be linked to an international crime and a Mafia godfather, they both agreed.
-----
That first afternoon after arriving from New York with the manuscript Conti had had one goal – to ensure the photocopy Conti had taken from the Pope’s office really was the key to decoding the manuscripts. And it had worked perfectly. It appeared that this single sheet was the key to unlocking the secret pages in the Templars volumes.
The manuscript that had been stolen from Bijan Rarities contained over two hundred pages handwritten in Latin, medieval French and English by an unknown Templar scribe.
Today Conti examined the first page of the volume to make sure it was what he expected. And it was – this was definitely the missing book from the set. Its cover bore the same bold words in Latin – Opus Militum Xpisti. The Work of the Soldiers of Christ. And this volume started with an entry in the year 1475. Perfect. The cleric then flipped to the end – the last few pages were the same strange symbols, the coded pages that he hoped he could now decipher. However, the last entry not in code was dated 1699. Again perfect. Chronologically this book dovetailed precisely in between two others that Dominic Conti had already seen, two of the four that resided in the Pope’s secret vault. This was indeed the missing book – the one that told what the Knights Templars were doing at the time the Money Pit on Oak Island was being constructed.
Although he desperately wanted to tackle the coded pages first the cleric forced himself to be patient. He read the first four pages. They were in Latin. On page five Conti came to the first page of symbols. He stopped and reflected – he had learned nothing new so far; the book was basically a diary and these four pages were as routine as most of the material in the other volumes had been. They told of adventures and riches but Dominic was looking for secrets.
Now that he had reached the page of symbols Conti picked up the sheet that would decode the information. The symbols in the manuscript were small and intricately drawn; there were several hundred of them on the page like letters in words. He looked at each symbol then painstakingly referred to the decoder, being extremely careful to get the solution right the first time. He decoded a few words but hadn’t really looked at them. He stopped a moment and glanced at what he had written. This time the language was medieval French; the Cardinal was thankful for the monotonous classes he’d endured in parochial school learning arcane languages. He never thought he’d have the slightest use for it but his efforts paid off today. Carefully avoiding reading the words until he finished the whole page, he continued his decryption.
At one pm the cleric stopped his work. His eyes were tired and his mind numb from the tedious work. He was three-fourths of the way through the first encoded page and needed a break. He closed the ancient manuscript and put it and his code sheet into his desk drawer. He needed air so he walked down Via Tunisi to Via Candia and came to Piacere Molise. It was his favorite restaurant and so close to the Vatican he could be there in ten minutes. The owners were a husband and wife team who knew Cardinal Conti well. He was ushered to his favorite table and a glass of good white wine was soon in front of him.
He ordered lunch but hardly touched his food, deep in thought about the work he was doing. He figured he had maybe a couple of hours left before this page was done. Then he could read the whole thing. In less than an hour he was back at his desk hunched over the manuscript, painstakingly decoding one symbol after another. By four pm he was finished. One encoded page down, twelve to go.
Just to be safe Cardinal Conti scanned the decoded page into his computer. He folded the original, put it in his pocket and left his office. At his apartment Conti poured himself a double Scotch and water with a couple cubes of ice then settled into a comfortable chair in his living room. Eager to see what was so important that it had warranted encryption, he began to read.
Chapter Twenty-Six
According to the New Testament book of John, Jesus was crucified on a hill called Golgotha. He hung on the cross for several hours. At one point Mary the mother of Jesus stood at the foot of the cross with “the disciple whom Jesus loved,” presumably John, most scholars believe.
Looking down at her, Jesus said to his mother, “Woman, behold thy son.” He said to John, “Behold thy mother.” The Bible says from that point on the disciple took her “to his own home.”
After Jesus died, a wealthy man named Joseph of Arimathea claimed the body. Joseph took the body of Jesus to his own new tomb and buried him. A very heavy stone was rolled into place to block the entrance and keep enemies from snatching the body of the man many had worshipped as the Messiah.
Three days later Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone was rolled away and it was open. Thinking the body of Jesus had indeed been stolen, she ran to tell his disciples. Arriving at the tomb, these men confirmed Mary’s story. The body of Jesus Christ was not there.
-----
Cardinal Conti began to read the words he had written down, the first fully decoded page of symbols. He skipped to the middle, th
en the end, translating the ancient French as he went, just to confirm he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. How odd, he thought.
The words were familiar to him. It seemed strange to come across them in code in a Templars diary that otherwise related events in the late fifteenth century.
Conti reached for a Bible sitting two feet away on his coffee table. He wanted to ensure the translation was not altered. It hadn’t been – it was the same. Verbatim. In medieval French, Dominic Conti had decoded John 19:25-27 and John 20:1-8. It was the account of Christ on the cross, entrusting his mother’s care to John, then the body of Jesus disappearing from the tomb where he had been buried, presumably resurrected to fulfill prophecy.
Conti was dumbfounded. Why would anyone go to such painstaking effort, writing by hand one symbol at a time, to encode a simple passage from the Bible? Were the other coded pages the same – encoded verses from the best selling book in the world? Could the verses themselves be yet another code, meant to guide the reader to a different solution?
He was tired after the day’s painstaking work hunched over his desk squinting through a magnifying glass at a thousand symbols, decoding each one. Although the verses obviously must mean more than what they seemed, it was frustrating that he’d spent so much time on something he could have easily read in the Bible. Tomorrow he’d see what the next page of code said. Hopefully it would be more revealing. He downed the rest of his Scotch and poured another.
Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries BoxSet Page 79