Mystery: The Sam Prichard Series - Books 5-8

by David Archer

  Sam smiled. “Okay, sounds good,” he said. “Indie, do you want to freshen up or change? It's a little early for lunch, and will still be early an hour from now. We can wander in and grab something to drink, act like we're just resting and cooling off. Taking a break, you know?”

  Indie jumped up and got into one of her suitcases, kissed Sam on the cheek and hurried into the bathroom. She came out a few minutes later looking like she just stepped out of the covers of a fashion magazine. She was wearing jeans and a designer T-shirt, and had done something quick and perfect with her makeup, brushed her hair (so that the clipped spot wasn't visible), and all three men froze and stared. Ken and Gary quickly regained their composure and looked away, but Sam just smiled as he looked at his wife.

  “Baby,” Sam said, “you get more beautiful every single day!” He looked around at Gary. “Can you give me the address of that pizzeria they mentioned?”

  Gary gave it to him, and Sam posted into the GPS on his phone. They made sure they all had each other's phone numbers, and Sam led Indie down to where they had to stash the car in paid parking.

  Having almost an hour to get to their destination meant that they had an easy forty minutes of free time, so Sam decided to show off a bit by cruising around the parts of the city he had become familiar with the night before. As he pointed out different landmarks, he couldn't help being delighted with Indie's reactions, and he found himself wishing that they really were just tourists. Being mixed up in this mess was frustrating enough when he was far from home and love, but now it was even more frustrating because he couldn't spend the time enjoying it with her the way he wanted to.

  Still, cruising around the city with her was a lot more fun than it had been with Ken the night before. The Italian drivers were just as crazy in real life as they always are in the movies, so they had their share of thrills and chills before they finally had to go on and find a place to park. Sam found a place not far from the pizzeria, another paid parking lot that took a few more of his coins, and then he and Indie strolled hand-in-hand up the street, weaving their way in and out of the crowds of natives and tourists who were always flocking around the streets this close to the Vatican. They found the pizzeria, slipped inside and took a table.

  Carlo Santorini, decked out in the robes traditionally worn by members of the papal household, was already there, occupying one side of a booth. Sam and Indie pretended not to be watching him, and ordered soft drinks when the chance arose. It was as they were sipping them that a large man wearing an American-style business suit entered the establishment and sat down across from Carlo. The two men smiled at each other and shook hands.

  “You seemed rather worried,” Carlo said, “when we were on the phone. Did you learn something, John? Something you couldn't say at the time?”

  Spencer spread his hands as if to say that he wasn't sure. “I honestly don't know,” he said. “I was just told in no uncertain terms that the contents and recipients of packages that come through the embassy are none of my business. Now, that's the first time I've ever been told anything like that, and it was really quite a shock. I'm not sure what's going on, Carlo, and I would hate with everything in me to think that Jeffrey might be involved, but something just isn't right.”

  Carlo nodded, and Sam got the feeling that the man was worried. “Yes, yes, I understand,” he said. “But, John, this warning is coming from your own countrymen. Chandler – oh, my, if Chandler has truly set his mind to something like this, and if he is willing to sacrifice the pope – John, I don't know what else to think but that the world has gone insane.”

  “No,” Spencer said, “it's not the world that's gone crazy, it's just Chandler. On the other hand, is that really such a surprise? Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Who was it that said that? Oh, never mind, it doesn't matter. The fact is that it's true, and Chandler has had the closest thing to absolute power that any man has known for decades, at least since Hitler's time. How could it not have driven him mad?”

  “Agreed, agreed. What do we do now?”

  “Well, it would help if we knew who these American agents are, how to reach them. I don't have any idea who might be running an operation against Chandler, because, frankly, I don't know anyone stateside who would have the nerve. You mentioned Harry Winslow, and I suppose he might be one of the very few who would have the courage, and probably isn't worried about anything Chandler might have on him. If all the old stories about Winslow are true, there just isn't much I can imagine that would scare that old man.” He looked around the room, and actually made eye contact for a split second with Sam before looking back at Carlo. “What do you think? Can you get us in contact with those agents?”

  Carlo shrugged. “It was Vito Mangione who called me, and I don't know how much he actually knows. Perhaps he can reach them, all I can do is ask. What would you have me tell him? What should he say to the agents?”

  Spencer sucked in his bottom lip for a moment, then smiled. “Tell him that if he can reach the agents, he should tell them that they have two allies inside the Vatican. I would suggest that you have him give them my name, and my personal cell number. You have that, right?”

  Carlo nodded. “I have it,” he said. “But do you think that is wise, to give it to them? If they know who you are, what if they were to contact your Jeffrey? If he is involved, that could be very bad for you.”

  “That's why I said my personal number,” Spencer said. “Hopefully, they'll be smart enough to call me on that, and not try to come visit me at the office.” He let his eyes roam around the room once more, and once again they met with Sam's.

  Sam grinned, trying to look buffoonish, but there was a narrowing of Spencer's eyes that told him the man was not a fool. Sam winked at him, then rose, taking Indie's hand and leading her over to where the two men sat. Sam slid in beside Carlo, while Indie smiled and sat beside Spencer.

  “Mr. Spencer,” Sam said. “I'm Sam Prichard, and this is my wife, Indiana. We are part of the team that you're discussing right now.”

  “Yeah,” Spencer said with a grin, “I've been watching you while you were watching me, so I figured you must be. John Spencer, which you obviously already know. The fact that you're here tells me you had a tap on our phone, and I'm not even going to get into the legalities, or lack of them, on that. If what Carlo was told is true, we've got something a whole lot bigger to worry about than whether you had the right to listen in on my phone calls. What can you tell me, Mr. Prichard?”

  “Well, I gather you know who Chandler was. What you may not have known was that he's apparently spent the last several years developing a plan to make it appear the biblical prophecy was all coming to fruition, complete with Antichrist, the false prophet, all of it. The gimmick was that he had it in his head that all of those prophecies really came from some old Babylonian religion, and that he could manipulate them to leave himself in the driver’s seat. He has someone ready and waiting to fill those roles, while he would be sitting in the background pulling strings like a puppeteer. We don't know who that person is, and even though there is little speculation, we don't even have enough leads to even point fingers at anyone. What we do know is this. Chandler set up a plot in several stages, each of which is a bigger disaster for the world. It starts here, with the assassination of the pope. When that hits the news, the next item, which we believe is a series of assassinations around Europe, will be implemented. When that one is announced, it's the cue for the third, and again, we believe we know what that is. If we are correct, it will be the sinking of some cruise ships loaded with tourists and vacationers, most of them probably Americans. That one is particularly diabolical, because it's designed to make Americans turn on small Christian organizations the same way they now treat Muslim groups.”

  “But then it gets worse,” Indie interrupted. “After that one, he has it all set up for what looks like a Muslim organization to attack a whole bunch of schools, while the kids are in class, using gasoline tanker trucks
as suicide bombs. We’re talking about the deaths of thousands of children, and the plot seems to be designed to make Americans scream for the complete annihilation of all Muslim people.”

  Spencer's eyes were wide, while Carlo's were closed and they could hear him fervently whispering in prayer. “Dear God,” Spencer said, “you're talking about the opening salvo of World War III! An attack like that — there's nobody in the world who could prevent that turning into a global conflagration.”

  “Unfortunately, that's where you're wrong,” Sam said. “At least, that's what Chandler believed. Whoever his puppet is, he or she would step up and somehow bring peace to the world. Of course, that peace will come at the price of national sovereignty to every nation that subscribes to it. One global government, one ruler. Yeah, they'll dress it up in nice, pretty language about constitutions, and parliaments or Congress or what have you, but the real truth of the matter will be that Chandler's puppet, now that he isn't around to pull the strings, will be the de facto ruler of the whole world. That's what we’re out to stop, and the first step is to find out who's behind the plot to assassinate the pope. We're hoping and praying that if we can do that, we can find out who's handling the next item, and so on until we find the actual puppets themselves.”

  Spencer stared at him, and then reached out a hand to Carlo. The old priest grasped Spencer's hand, as both men looked at Sam and Indie.

  “I don't know exactly what we can do, and I can tell you that I have reason to believe that someone in the office I work in at the embassy to the Holy See could be involved in this,” Spencer said. “But Carlo and I are old friends, going back to when I got my first job over here at the Vatican Embassy. If there's one thing I can tell you, it's that he can be trusted, and I'm pretty sure he would say the same about me. You've got two allies, right here. You tell us what we can do, and we're in.”

  8

  “Okay,” Sam said, “what we need to do is figure out who could have been on Chandler's payroll inside the papal apartments. That's assuming, of course, that the assassination attempt is actually planned for the next few days while the pope is not moving about in the public. If not, then we may not be looking for someone inside at all.”

  Carlo had been sitting with his face in his hands, and looked up and Sam for just a moment. He spread his hands as if in desperation, and then lowered his face back into them. “I know everyone in the prefecture and the papal family,” he said. “I cannot imagine any of them who would harm His Holiness. The very concept would be anathema.”

  Spencer picked up his cup and took a sip of the strong, Italian coffee. “He's right,” he said. “Just to imagine someone being within the papal family who could harm the pope, that's just not conceivable. These people are vetted more thoroughly than any candidate for a Supreme Court justice. I mean, look at Carlo. He's almost 70, now, and I think the youngest person in the prefecture is probably a nun in her 50s. You get into the papal family by being chosen after a fairly long life of devotion to the church. These people are known for their piety, not for any kind of greed or desire for power.”

  Indie shrugged. “Pious people make mistakes, too,” she said. “Chandler was into blackmail, not just bribery. If he found something on someone in there that they didn't want exposed, it wouldn't be that hard to convince them to do what he wanted in order to avoid that exposure.”

  “That's very true,” Sam said. “That's one of the reasons that so many people in governments all over the world were afraid of him, and won't step up to prevent his plans from going into action, even though he's dead now. We're not sure if he had some sort of organization in place that would expose the information he used to force cooperation, or if it's some kind of automated device or system that will send that information out if certain conditions are not met. All we know is that even other governments are afraid to interfere in this situation.”

  Spencer looked Sam in the eye. “Then, I'm going to ask you a point-blank question. What makes you so determined to stop it, if even the government hasn't taken a stance against it? What makes you more certain of your position than they are of theirs?”

  Sam gave him a shark toothed smile. “I give you a point-blank answer,” he said. “What makes me more certain of my position is knowing that there's no way in the world I could sleep at night if I allow these things to happen. Look, Chandler was following some weird old religion that was all about taking over the world and forcing your will upon it. Or, his will, in this case. I don't know where you stand on religion, though your position makes me think that you have at least some confidence in the Christian perspective, am I right?”

  “You're absolutely right,” Spencer said with a smile of his own. “I served the church long before I served the government, and my loyalties haven't changed.”

  Sam nodded. “Okay, then that being the case, I have to point at biblical prophecy. From everything I've been told, there are certain things that have to happen before the rise of the Antichrist. Since those things haven't happened, Chandler was trying to create his own version of the end times, rather than follow the script that God laid out. If you take all of that into consideration, then there's no way that we can even speculate that Chandler's plan should go forward. The fact that our governments are refusing to take action only speaks of their cowardice, not of the rightness of any plan Chandler came up with.”

  Carlo dropped his hands to the tabletop. “Gentlemen,” he said, “oh, and my dear lady, let me remind you that we are still talking about some of the most horrific things that man has ever conceived. His Holiness would willingly lay down his own life to prevent these other atrocities; I know him. The problem is that, in this situation, what we have to do is stop that from happening. We must find a way to stop this assassination, to stop the person behind it. But how do we stop them, when we have no clue who they are?”

  Sam looked at the old priest. “Father, let me ask you this,” he said. “What will be the pope's response if we tell him about this plot? Would he cooperate with us in our efforts to keep him alive?”

  “Oh, I'm certain he would,” Carlo said, grinning. “As holy as he is, there is that part of him which is still human and does not wish to die. If we said to him that his death would serve a great purpose, he would not hesitate to walk into the jaws of death itself, but since this case is precisely the opposite, and his death will trigger even greater tragedies, he will certainly want to do whatever it takes to prevent that.”

  “Then how do we get to him?” Sam asked. “I think we need to speak with him directly, if possible.”

  Carlo shook his head. “That will be a problem,” he said. “I cannot take anyone into the papal apartments when His Holiness is sequestered, this way. The Swiss Guard have to approve every visitor, and will not accept any applications at this time.” He looked at Spencer. “Perhaps, John, you can make some arrangement?”

  “I can try,” Spencer said. “Carlo is right, in that the Swiss Guard is declining applications for an audience with His Holiness during his voluntary sequestration. However, I know a few of the officers and might be able to get one to issue a summary approval. If that doesn't work, I can go to the ambassador, but I have no way of knowing whether he might be involved in this plot, himself. My office chief warned me to keep my nose out of it, when I tried to find out who picked up an unusual package the other day, and since he's never spoken to me that way before, I have to wonder if perhaps Chandler got to him. If the ambassador is also involved, I could be putting my life on the line just to ask the question.”

  Sam nodded, and glanced at Indie before he answered. “Spencer, you're right,” he said. “You could very well be putting your life at risk. What you got to remember, though, is that the whole world is at risk if we don't find a way to stop this assassination. If there were a way I can take that risk upon myself for you, I would be glad to do that, but at the moment it seems like you're the man.”

  Spencer laughed, and reached over to gently punch Sam in the arm. “Well
, as a matter of fact,” he said, “it just occurred to me that we might be smarter to let me introduce you to the ambassador, so that you can bring up the idea of getting to His Holiness. I got a hunch that you'd know pretty quickly if the ambassador is involved, and I'd be willing to do whatever I can to get you out if that were the case.”

  Indie reached across the table to put her hand onto Sam's. “Babe,” she said, “if you go in there, I'm going with you.”

  Sam winked at her, not a bit surprised at her determination, but even less inclined to go along with her decision. On the other hand, their current setting was not the place to discuss it, so he didn't say anything to her in response. He looked again at Spencer.

  “Okay, so first, you're going to try talking to these Swiss Guard officers, right?”

  Spencer nodded. “Yes, sir, that's what I’ve got in mind.”

  Sam nodded. “All right, then,” he said. “If you're successful, we'll know it because of that unmentionable wiretap we didn't discuss earlier. If you need to get hold of us for any reason, all you got to do is pick up your phone and start talking into it. We got it set so that we hear pretty much everything that goes through it. In fact, when you go in to talk to your boss about this, be sure to keep it on in your pocket. That way, we'll hear everything that goes on and we can even record it.”

  “Well, that sounds good, anyway. It's nice to know somebody's got my back.”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “I know exactly how you feel on that. Now, we've got to get moving on this, right away. We don't know what our deadline is, what possible scenarios may already be playing out. How soon can you get a response back from those officers?”