An American Pope

by Doug Walker

  “Let mutual trust prevail. My hope is the Pope. Without you I am a swimmer on a storm-tossed sea.” Both she and Sylvia rose to go.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Justin was glad to get Hilda out of his hair. He felt they had reached an initial understanding. The fact that they had talked of her demise and she had actually seen a deadly weapon in the Pope’s hand seemed to bring her back to reality. She would likely settle for the possible.

  But there was something unsettling about Father Stevens’ behavior. Justin imagined the secretary might be in league with Cardinal Piovanelli, the man who for all his sunny disposition seemed to be waiting like a jungle cat to pounce on the first misstep. Piovanelli, the pope-in-waiting.

  Justin used his cell phone to call Black and then made his way to the cardinal’s apartment.

  “I want my office swept for bugs,” Justin began.

  “That has been done and is routinely done.” Black replied. He went to a counter and poured himself and Justin cups of coffee. “You can provide your own condiments.”

  Justin used a little cream, then returned to his chair. “The food here is rich, too rich. My exercise routine is the only thing keeping me trim.”

  Black chuckled. “So many fat princes of the church. We should all diet.”

  “Diet,” Justin replied. “Simply follow the example of Christ. Wander the countryside, eating a little fish, maybe a drop of wine and a few crumbs of bread. That’s the life, John.”

  “You think someone may be eavesdropping on your private conversations? Truth or paranoia?”

  “There are plotters and there are plotters, as you know. Uneasy is he who wears the shoes of the fisherman.”

  “In the present situation, yes. Tell me what set you off?”

  “Nothing really. Possibly a comment or two by my secretary, Father Stevens. It’s possible he’s teamed with those who are out to get me. That would include Giovanni and the two Jesuits. Even though the offices have been electronically swept, it’s possible Stevens has the ability to eavesdrop.”

  Black nodded in agreement. “Certainly inner office communications wouldn’t be high on the list. The technicians would be seeking bugs attuned to the outside. I’ll ask them for a do-over.”

  Justin stayed on for a second cup of coffee and some sort of Italian scone. He explained his meeting with Hilda Krieg and asked Black’s advice about what should be done. The two agreed that they could find some sort of decent paying job for her, probably in the Vatican.

  The debate over his proposal to liberalize abortion and contraception had diminished, but was still going strong around the globe. Justin decided to take up another less controversial issue.

  He selected a group of seven cardinals, representative of different cultures, and invited them to his office along with Father George Poulis, his public relations spokesman.

  The meeting was in the early evening, and wine and snacks were available. After a half hour of socializing, the Pope got to his new initiative.

  “I’ve been petitioned and given this prayerful thought,” he began. “I know the church has long worked to meet the spiritual needs of incarcerated men and women, but there is a feeling by some interested in the movement that we could do more.”

  A cardinal from East Africa said such a program is unknown in his country.

  “Exactly,” Justin said. “Either unknown, little known, or left to a few zealots. Rather than go all over the map, I’d like to concentrate on one successful effort. In the U.S. there is a Mercy Fire Catholic Prison Ministry that depends on volunteer workers – priests, deacons, sisters. These good people spread God’s love and do God’s work.”

  The new American cardinal said he was aware of the program and gave it high praise. “These are the men and women we might salvage and bring to the cross,” he said.

  “Exactly,” Justin agreed. “Sister Judith Krantz, some kind of servant of the eleventh hour, is the founder of that program. They have somehow gotten weekend retreats for prisoners in order to awaken the reality of Christ’s love, mercy and hope for their future.”

  The American cardinal quoted part of the sister’s doctrine: “That all may become a living flame to act justly, love tenderly and walk humbly with God.”

  All of the cardinals seemed to agree that such a mission needed a shot in the arm on a global basis. Justin believed the meeting was a success and said Poulis would get the word out to the public if the cardinals would do their bit both as a group and in their own bailiwicks.

  The cardinals remained, having a fine social, time until the wine and snacks were exhausted, then each said his goodbyes to the new Pope. Justin felt he was overcoming initial thoughts that he was far too lightweight to hold such an esteemed office. Little by little he chartered his course.

  The following day he learned that the secretary did have the ability to eavesdrop, although it would not be as simple as turning a switch. He also learned that that ability had been removed. Then he set out to find what damage had been done and to control whatever might have happened.

  Summoning Stevens to his office, he bid the father to have a seat. “Some comments you have made in recent days are puzzling to me, Stevens.”

  “In what way, Your Holiness?”

  “They would seem to border on sarcasm.”

  “I have never meant to offend.”

  “I’m not offended, but I demand the respect due to the office.”

  “Is that all, Your Holiness?”

  “That you would seek to leave before our interview is complete is offensive. As Pope I have certain options.”

  “And what might they be, Your Holiness?”

  “Your attitude has compelled me to review your record. You were accused of child molestation as a parish priest.”

  “Those charges were dropped.”

  “Not really. You were transferred and the charges were left to hang in the air. They were never turned over to civil authorities. The complainants and their families remain upset over how the case was handled. They also remain willing to appear in court. In truth, you should be sent back to that civil jurisdiction. Why should the church protect a child molester?”

  Color drained from Stevens face. “I was pleased with the way the situation was handled by the bishop.” His voice had a humble tone.

  “I suppose you were. A long prison term for a child molester might be hell on earth.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I haven’t decided. Are you familiar with Cape Horn?”

  “At the extreme south of South America. I’ve read about it.”

  “It is a cold, wild place. There are glaciers, Indians, I don’t know what else. But they are in need of a parish priest.”

  “Who would want to serve in such a place?”

  “To serve the Lord in such a place might be a step toward sainthood. Particularly if you or some other priest might be killed by Indians, thus made a martyr.”

  “Why do you use me as an example?”

  “Because you have sinned against children. To serve in such a dismal setting might be a way to repent and seek the path of the righteous. What if your devious ways continue? I feel it is the responsibility of the church to seek some reformation, some adjustment in your daily life. Because we work in close quarters, I could serve as your confessor. Open your heart to me, Father Stevens, and seek forgiveness. Give it a little thought. Now you may go.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  As usual Justin was in his office early the next day. The Pope’s life and his staff do not observe a nine-to-five day. Stevens had gotten there a few minutes earlier than usual, knocked and then entered the Pope’s spacious office. His face was grim and he had a frightened look.

  “Your Holiness, I have bad news.”

  Justin looked up from the stack of letters he was signing. “Out with it.”

  “Cardinal Black is dead.”

  The news was like a blow to the mid-section. He was transported somewhere between the de
vil and the deep blue sea. Black was a lifeboat on a troubled sea. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes, Sir. The Vatican doctor has pronounced him dead, deceased,” Stevens almost stammered.

  “Amazing. Of middle years. How did he die?”

  “In his sleep. Apparently a heart attack, or heart failure.”

  Justin was instantly suspicious. “Where is the body?”

  “I believe it’s being transported to the crematorium as we speak.”

  Justin jumped from his seat. He shouted at the cowering Stevens. “Stop it. Send the body back to his apartments. Now move, quickly you dimwit!”

  Stevens was off like a streak. Justin grabbed the phone and dialed the Vatican guard. “This is the Pope. The body of Cardinal Black is being transported to the crematorium.”

  “I know it, Your Holiness. There have been orders for instant cremation.”

  “Stop those orders,” Justin demanded. “Get that body back to Black’s apartment. Set a guard on the apartment. No one is to enter.”

  “Certainly, Your Holiness.”

  As usual during the work day, Justin was dressed in the simple black of a priest. He darted into the hall and made for the crematorium some distance away. It had not been long since the church had approved cremation, but it had gained in popularity as space for flesh burials dwindled.

  Justin met Stevens and three guards as they were wheeling the body back to Black’s apartment. “Who ordered the cremation?” he questioned.

  “I don’t know,” Stevens replied.

  “How about you guards?” One was obviously an officer.

  “I believe it was Cardinal Piovanelli. He was in Black’s apartment when we retrieved the body. The doctor had just left.”

  “Let’s hustle along to the apartment,” Justin said, setting a quick pace down the hall. The guards struggled to keep pace.

  Piovanelli was still in the apartment when they arrived. He appeared to be going through Black’s possessions.

  “Well, Giovanni, this is a sad morning. How did you learn Cardinal Black was dead?”

  Piovanelli seemed surprise to see the Pope and even more surprised to see Black’s body being wheeled into the apartment.

  “His attendant called me.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “Father Parret.”

  “Did he also summon the doctor?”

  “I don’t know. I called the doctor after I arrived.”

  “What was the reason for the immediate cremation?”

  “The doctor said heart attack, or heart failure. We like to get these things cleaned up as quickly as possible here in the Vatican.”

  “I see.” He noticed Piovanelli was holding a stack of papers and a thin book. “Are those Black’s possessions?”

  “Yes, I thought I’d preserve them for the next of kin if such exists.”

  “You’re a good man, Piovanelli, a thoughtful man. But I’ll take the artifacts.”

  With those in his possession he turned to the guard captain and said, “I’ll remain here while you summon the head of the guard. I want this room sealed, guarded night and day and absolutely no one is to enter without my permission.”

  The captain saluted, wheeled and was gone.

  “Why the odd orders?” Piovanelli questioned.

  “Cardinal Black seemed in the best of health the last time I saw him, which I believe was yesterday. I think we should look into the cause of death.”

  “Perhaps you’re correct. I’ll ask the Vatican medical staff to perform a more complete investigation.”

  Justin almost smiled despite the grim nature of the turn of events.

  “I’ll see to all those details, thank you, Giovanni. And will do so quickly. Now I will spend a few moments alone with Cardinal Black and turn the air unit up to super cool.” He invited everyone to leave the room, then attended to the air conditioning and spent prayerful moments with the body of his friend and advisor until the head of the Swiss Guard tapped on the door.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The chief was a bit surprised to find the Pope and a dead cardinal in the room. Justin explained the situation and said he wanted no one to enter the room until he had made certain arrangements.

  “You will do this yourself, Your Holiness?”

  “Yes. I intend to. And anyone who tries to interfere with my authority is going to regret it. Cardinal Black was healthy yesterday, and I intend to get to the bottom of his tragic death. The door should never be unattended. Do you need time to organize your forces?”

  “No, Your Holiness. I have two men in the hall and I’ll arrange shifts to do your bidding.”

  “Keep in mind that no one is to enter the room without my permission. This includes cardinals, priests, bishops, even medical people.”

  Justin returned to his office. Without Black he felt isolated, alone. But he knew he must carry on. His Italian lessons had not gotten him much beyond ciao. But he did have a vague idea of law enforcement in Italy. Eight separate police forces, six of which were national.

  The best known was likely the Arma dei Carabinieri, which had become much like the Italian military, even serving abroad on peacekeeping missions. They were also referred to as La Benemerita, The Meritorious Corps. Of the two non-national agencies, one was provincial and the other municipal.

  Justin decided to go with the Rome municipal force, but how to approach them. He telephoned Sylvia and asked her to bring Hilda Krieg to his office. Once they arrived, he briefed the two women on the situation. Both were upset by the news, and it took a few minutes for them to calm down. He asked Stevens to have coffee and pastries brought to his office.

  With coffee in hand and Stevens back in the outer office, Justin said, “We need a complete investigation beginning with a thorough autopsy by medical people we can trust. The doctor’s ruling of heart failure is ridiculous.”

  “It seems to me,” Sylvia said, “the Vatican is a closed corporation that does not want its dirty linen displayed in public.”

  “Historically, I’m certain you’re right,” Justin said. “But this smells of murder. Murder is a crime against the law of humanity and God. I will not tolerate it as Pope or otherwise.”

  Hilda smiled. “Perhaps you think you might be next in line.”

  Justin rolled his eyes to heaven. “If this is murder, I don’t think they would cremate a pope. There must be an innovative way to get rid of the man in the shoes of the fisherman short of murder.”

  “Perhaps they could send you off to Washington as an intern,” Sylvia quipped.

  The initial shock had obviously worn off for the two women. Justin thought it was time to get down to business.

  “We have unlimited funds and we have power. The body is safe for now in Black’s apartment. What I would like is a thoroughly professional autopsy to determine the cause of death. To this end I hope to contact the municipal police in Rome and ask them to take charge of the body and alert their coroner. But I would also like other doctors on hand.”

  He looked to Hilda. “What about flying in some expert from Germany. Everyone trusts German technology.”

  Hilda appeared confused, but finally said, “Certainly, if the money’s there.” She checked her watch. Only mid-morning. “I can arrange for a flight today.”

  “Good. Start the ball rolling. But use your cell phone.” Then to Sylvia. “Who do you know who speaks Italian and you can trust to call the municipal police?”

  “I have a couple of contacts. But how will they know we’re serious?”

  “In the name of Pope Leo XIV. I’ll be in my office. Give them my official phone number and my cell phone. Our goal is to get the body removed from the Vatican into a safe morgue. Let them know that the Swiss Guard will continue to watch over the body.”

  “In those crazy costumes?”

  “No. I’ll have some of them in mufti. I’ll also arrange for payment for this operation. So, you have your assignments. May God go with you.”

  �
�Yes, Your Holiness,” Sylvia said as the two left the room.

  Justin wondered why she had said such a thing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Justin spent the rest of the day and most of the next moving from place to place in the Vatican issuing orders. He wore his anger on his sleeve and no one challenged him. By the morning of the third day everyone he had come in contact with was thoroughly frightened.

  He had established himself as the Pope. And what a Pope. Some thought the Pope from Hell. It was late on the third day that the autopsy report was delivered to his office: Mors ab infectum (death by poison).

  Justin buzzed Stevens and asked him to invite Cardinal Giovanelli down for a drink and a snack. “Shall I open a bottle, Your Holiness?”

  “Thanks, no, Stevens. I have my own special stock.”

  When the cardinal was ushered into his office there was an open bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on his desk and two glasses, already poured.

  Justin waved Giovanni to a chair and said, “Let’s have a little toast to happier times.” He hoisted his glass as if to clink and drink. The cardinal hesitated.

  “Come, let’s drink,” Justin insisted.

  “I’m not feeling well today, Your Holiness.” Justin thought it odd for the cardinal to use the formal title. They were after all the closest companions, particularly with Black out of the way.

  “I’m sorry, Giovanni. Might I call for medical assistance?”

  “Nothing like that. Maybe I’m simply depressed by John’s death. I was one of the first to enter his room, you know, after being summoned by Father Parret.”

  “I do know that, but a touch of the grape might bring you good cheer.”

  Giovanni eyed the poured glass with some distaste. “I’m afraid my thirst for wine is greatly diminished. Perhaps tomorrow.”

  “I could send a few bottles to your apartment. It was my little surprise, but I have done so. When you came down here I had alerted the Swiss Guard to carry a few bottles in for your drinking pleasure.”

  “Into my apartment!” Giovanni said in chagrin and surprise.