The Gods' Gambit

by David Lee Marriner

  There were only two visitors in the café – both girls – who sat on high stools at the bar. They were chatting with the young barman who was dressed entirely in white, with long hair and a musketeer-like beard and moustache.

  Lino insisted on paying for their order – coffee, assorted chocolate candies and biscuits, fresh orange juice, tea and milk.

  On their way there they had talked about mundane things: James and Irina’s trip, the hotel, the sightseeing. Lino told them about his job in the Florence Library. Irina was the first to speak business after they had settled in the café. She turned to Lino. “The cult we’re investigating has exercised pressure on you. Would you tell me how?”

  Lino instinctively cast an eye about. He pulled three red leaflets out of his jacket pocket. They showed cartoons depicting a man being killed in three ways simultaneously. He explained how he had found two of them after the Church of Angels gathering. “The third one I found a few days later in my mother’s letterbox.” He paused briefly. “I got really scared. I don’t know how they managed to uncover my identity. It became clear that they were serious.” He turned to James. “It was about that time we spoke on the phone.”

  “You didn’t call the police?” asked Irina.

  “No. What could I tell them? That I was threatened by an ancient cult aiming to take over the world? And as proof to present them with leaflets advertising what looks like some kind of theatrical play? Besides, I was afraid for my mother. She’s old and lives alone.”

  “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” James said with sympathy. “I would feel the same in your shoes.”

  “That’s the reason I don’t want to get directly involved in the police investigation,” Lino explained, looking at James and Irina in turn. “At least not at this stage.”

  “I understand that after these events you haven’t received any threats?” Irina asked.

  Lino nodded. “Honestly, they didn’t need to. I retired into my shell. I even withdrew an article from the Catholic newspaper I write for. I didn’t want to pull the devil’s tail.”

  “Obviously you don’t think that way now,” said James.

  “No. I’m just more cautious then I was before. I don’t fear them anymore.”

  “There must be a reason for that,” Irina threw in.

  “My mother,” said Lino. “She noticed the change in me and I had to tell her the truth. She’s deeply religious… Anyhow… when she heard about my worries she straightforwardly told me she wouldn’t allow my spirit to be squashed because of her. She said I needed to follow my beliefs and drives.” Lino’s eyes became wet.

  “Your mother is a remarkable woman,” said James.

  “Since we talked on the phone this morning I haven’t stopped thinking,” Lino said to James. “I can’t grasp it. What made Elizabeth their target? May her soul rest in peace.”

  “I still don’t know,” James answered. “I will find out. And make them pay.”

  “I’m going to do anything to help you,” said Lino with fire in his eyes.

  There was a moment of silence.

  Irina turned to James. “If we’re going to be partners, Lino must know what we’ve discovered so far,” she said.

  “Of course,” James agreed.

  Briefly he told Lino everything that had happened before they came to Florence. He didn’t hide the details of the Costov case and the similar cases in Algeria and India. If Irina didn’t approve of such a revelation of police data, she didn’t show it.

  While James was speaking, Lino looked at him with wide eyes. His cheeks flushed with racing emotions. He broke the silence that had set in after James had finished. “This is above all my expectations.”

  “Did you hear anything which could help us understand what the motives are for these killings?” Irina asked him.

  “All those ritual killings, the cult’s increased activity all over the world … they mean only one thing.” Lino looked at them both, but no words came out of his mouth. It was as though he was scared to say what was in his mind.

  “What, for God’s sake?” James urged him.

  “That they’re close to achieving their goal,” said Lino quietly.

  “What does that mean? World domination?” Irina asked.

  Lino glanced at her. He looked hurt. “It may sound funny. These people have been fulfilling their plan systematically and unflinchingly. Step by step, for many years, probably centuries.”

  “I don’t argue with that. It’s just that we need something more than a theory if we’re to get to them,” said Irina.

  Lino thought for a few moments. “I believe that the cult is behind this so-called Church of Angels. Tonight at six there’s a gathering. Why not visit it together? You’ll be people interested in joining the Church. You could talk to anybody there. That way you could get first-hand information.”

  Irina had been watching him carefully. She had been assessing his words, reactions, thinking, body language. She had seen enough to make a judgment about who he was. His character was predominated by sincerity and lack of real-life inexperience. In other words, she could trust the decency of his intentions but not his common sense. “I have a different suggestion,” she said. “What we need is somebody from the Church who works for the cult. Could you distinguish such a person?”

  “I’ve watched them for quite some time. The Italian cofounder of the Church is one of them for sure. But he lives in Milano. There is one man – a cold, arrogant type.”

  “You’ll show him to us tonight. We’ll follow him. If necessary, I could ask for back-up. He could be placed under constant watch. I’ll keep you aside of all this, of course,” she reassured Lino. “Any objections?”

  Lino expressed his consent with a nod.

  Irina continued. “Meanwhile, I’ll check the files of some prominent Church members. Would you give me their names?”

  “Here.” Lino took a napkin and wrote down several names. “I’ve tried many times to dig out something about them. No success so far. But you probably have better means.”

  James took a look at what Lino had written down. “An international team,” he commented.

  “Let’s talk a bit about tonight,” Irina suggested, looking at Lino. “You go to the Church’s gathering and check if that man is present. We’ll be waiting outside in the car. You’ll find an excuse to leave earlier than the rest and join us. When he’s outside, we’ll follow him. Have you noticed the way he comes to the meetings?”

  “I’ve seen him leaving in a car.”

  “Good,” said Irina.

  Lino put his hands on his cheeks, thinking intensively. “I’m ready for this. I knew the time for action was coming. I just didn’t know it would be so soon.”

  James and Irina gave him a puzzled look.

  “I must send my mother away,” Lino announced. “We have that agreement between us. I told her that I would continue my fight against these people. She knows that the time may come when she has to go away for a while. Otherwise both of us would be vulnerable. I’ll tell her that the time has now come.”

  “That’s well done,” Irina approved.

  “Do you know where she’ll go?” asked James.

  “Yes. We’ve discussed it. One of my mother’s old friends has invited her to visit many times. She lives in a village south of the country. An hour and a half’s drive from here.”

  “Give me the address of the Church’s gatherings. We’ll wait for you there this evening. Okay?” said Irina.

  “Yes. That’s fine. Although we’ll not finish with that business in one night. I’ll have to take a few days off work,” said Lino.

  “You decide how involved you want to be in this,” said James. “I, personally, hope to leave Italy with information I can use in the UK. I need to have something that will make them go after me. So I won’t leave before I have that information. Or before I’m sure that my stay here isn’t getting me any closer to them.”

  “In any case, we’ll need mo
re time to investigate. How much exactly depends on how well we do at first,” said Irina.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Italy

  The black exterior door of the hall in the four-storey building where the Church of Angels held their meetings opened and Lino slipped outside. He looked up and down both sides of the street and started walking along the pavement. When he reached the end of the building, he quickly crossed the street and jumped into the back of the parked Volvo in which Irina and James sat waiting.

  “They’ll start coming out soon,” he announced and moved into the middle of the rear seat.

  “Would you recognize our man’s car?” Irina asked him.

  “It was a light colour; maybe white … I don’t remember exactly.”

  “Keep an eye on the exit,” said James. “It’d be good if you alerted us immediately after he shows up.”

  Lino fixed his eyes on the black door.

  “You didn’t give me his name,” said Irina. “I could run it through the system while we’re waiting.” She was behind the wheel with her laptop on her lap.

  “I didn’t put him on the list because I only know his first name – Vittorio,” Lino explained. “Did you manage to find something about the others?”

  “Nothing in a personal sense. The financing of the Church of Angels smells fishy, though.” Irina shut her laptop, put it on the floor behind her seat and settled herself into her optimal driving position. “The Italian branch, for example, bought this place after receiving a financial injection from a Russian bank. The transfer looks okay at first glance. Yet the bank itself has a bad reputation. It’s been under fraud and money laundering investigations several times.”

  Everything these people do is veiled in a fog of delusion, thought James. The results of their actions are visible, as are the ordinary perpetrators, the pawns in the game. The strong figures, the real players, and their motives remain hidden. They show only what they want to be seen. Out loud he said, “The cult definitely has great influence in different social spheres. That’s why it’s difficult to find evidence against them—”

  “I would add that they have had centuries to master the art of deception and manipulation,” interrupted Lino.

  “It’s possible that their strength could become their weak point,” suggested James.

  “What do you mean by that?” asked Irina.

  “Lino, you claim that nowadays they are more active than they’ve ever been.”

  “That’s true,” Lino confirmed.

  “Meaning – they’ve grown too big. They’re fighting on many fronts, so to speak. That will inevitably make them easier to reveal, no matter how craftily they cover their tracks,” explained James.

  “Indeed. Activity on such a large scale would attract attention,” Irina agreed. “They have to move large amounts of money in order to finance their operations. Somewhere within the chain there’ll be a traceable link. Moreover, they’ve started to rely on criminals to do their dirty work for them, as with your fiancée. That provides another opportunity to track them down.”

  “It’s their tactical scheme which stands between us and them. It appears that the ordinary perpetrators and the criminal mercenaries don’t have access to the cult’s core where the decision-makers are. They probably get their orders through mediators faithful to the cult,” said James.

  Lino expressed his apprehension. “That’s my understanding, too. Those mediators are brainwashed cult members. They’re ready to burn like fuses if somebody uncovers them.”

  “Whatever the case, all this is done by people. They’ve already made mistakes. Traces have been left. We must find the evidence and put it together,” said James firmly.

  Lino grimaced. His features twisted into a mixture of doubt and sadness.

  “What is it?” James urged.

  “I fear the stage they have reached – the ritual killings. In my opinion, this is the climax of their master plan—” He didn’t finish his sentence because the black door of the hall opened and people started pouring out. “There he is … the man with the blue jacket,” he said.

  The man he indicated was of short stature. He had dark hair and a thickly built body. He was walking on the opposite side of the road in their direction. He passed by quickly. He was frowning and looking straight ahead, walking with his massive chin sticking out. This gave him a challenging look as if he were saying “I’m coming; get out of my way.”

  His car was parked just a few cars from the Volvo. It was a light grey Fiat Brava. The man unlocked it with his remote, crossed the street and jumped in. He drove away abruptly.

  Another car in front of them was indicating to leave the parking bay. Irina waited for it to drive off and then she followed the Fiat.

  The man was driving fast. Irina kept a distance of one or two cars between them. She lost sight of the Fiat from time to time, but each time she managed to catch up with it again.

  They left Florence and took the road to the north-west. Twenty minutes later they turned west, drove over a hill and then through a succession of small towns. There were few cars on the road, so Irina had to increase the distance between them and the Fiat.

  In the next small town, the Fiat turned off between the houses. Lino started to grumble impatiently. Irina slowed down and also turned off. The street they entered was straight and not very long. There were several cars parked on both sides. The Fiat had disappeared.

  Irina continued ahead slowly. The three of them looked left and right into the small side streets. They eventually spotted the Fiat at the end of the street where the lines of residential houses ended and a field began. It had been invisible to them until now because it was parked in a small private parking area belonging to the nearby Catholic Church.

  The man was not in the car and was nowhere else in sight. That was strange, because from that parking area he could only go into the street, the church’s courtyard, or the open field.

  Irina pulled over and switched off the engine.

  Lino looked around feverishly before saying in astonishment, “Where did Vittorio disappear to?”

  “I’ll go and check around the area,” said Irina.

  “I’ll come with you,” said James. “You stay in the car, Lino. He shouldn’t see you if he appears.”

  Irina went to the parked Fiat and took a close look at it. As James approached she shook her head. She pointed to the church and they made their way towards it.

  “I’ll go round the left side to the rear. You check the other side,” said Irina.

  The surrounding area was quiet and deserted. The church courtyard was bounded by a stone wall along which were gravestones, some of them centuries old. There was a path around the church illuminated by lamps fixed on some of the church’s arched windows. It looked like Vittorio had disappeared without a trace.

  Irina followed the narrow path on the left.

  James moved to the right side of the building, passing by the entrance gate. He noticed a cornice on the wall about a metre from the ground that stuck out about ten centimetres. He realized that if he stepped onto it he would be able to see through the window. The upper arched part was stained glass, but the glass beneath was clear. A dim light was coming through the window.

  He stepped onto the cornice and grabbed the window ledge, pulling himself up and then leaning forward to rest on his elbows. Now he could just see inside, although the light in the church was weak. Vittorio was there, kneeling before a crucifix. James looked round, as much as his position allowed, to see if Irina had reappeared. She hadn’t. He looked back at the man at the altar.

  What’s he doing here? Why did he come to this country church? And how did he manage to enter it so easily? James asked himself.

  Vittorio suddenly stood up and turned. He was motionless for a few seconds before quickly setting off towards the exit. The first thought James had was that the man had spotted him somehow. At that moment he heard Vittorio saying something he didn’t understand. James jumped to
the ground. To his surprise, he heard Lino’s angry voice: “What I’m doing here is not your business. What are you doing here? Violator!”

  Vittorio responded in a voice that harboured as much anger. “You followed me… Scoundrel!”

  James ran to the corner just in time to see Vittorio flinging Lino out of the church. He ran but couldn’t get to them in time to stop the assault. Vittorio threw a sharp uppercut which landed on Lino’s solar plexus. Lino tottered and sprawled to the ground on his side. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” James shouted and jumped between the two men.

  Vittorio’s face was red and angry. “Hah, another one!” he said and aimed a blow at James.

  James stepped swiftly aside and Vittorio missed his head by just a few centimetres. Without losing his balance, Vittorio moved a step forwards and lashed out again.

  James recognized the boxing experience of the man. If Vittorio’s heavy fist reached his face, he would surely find himself lying next to his friend. He squatted to escape the attack and at the same time threw a short but mighty punch at his opponent’s abdomen. Vittorio exhaled loudly. He coughed, trying to regain his breath, but his throat was closing spasmodically. But it only restrained him for a moment. He took a breath and attacked again. This time, James delivered two quick strikes – one beneath his ribs, the second to his jaw. Dizzy, Vittorio staggered into the church gate. While all this was happening, James spotted Irina behind the opposite corner of the building.

  “Stop it!” she shouted in Italian.

  She took out her Interpol ID and showed it to Vittorio. “Police,” she said as she moved towards him.

  James helped Lino to his feet.