Page 22 of The Medici Return

“I spoke the truth.”

“Yet he still came to you.”

He heard the question in the words. “I do not see the problem here. He came to me. I made inquiries. I said no. He went away.”

“A man like Eric Casaburi does not go away.”

He shrugged. “What do you want, Sergio?”

“The truth would be welcomed.”

“I told you what happened.”

His nemesis’ face registered nothing, the eyes staring noncommittal, enigmatic, giving zero indication as to thoughts. A talent that had surely come from the womb. He took a moment and noticed the sun setting past the western wall, its faint red glow bleeding color from the tall cedars. “You said there were two problems.”

“You are banned from the Holy Father,” Ascolani said.

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

“On this I do. You have been implicated in the ongoing fraud trial.”

Had he heard right? “Implicated? How?”

“One of the defendants has offered a sworn statement that you were involved with the questionable real estate transactions and the embezzlement. You were paid moneys.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Then why was a satchel full of four hundred thousand euros found at the diocese’s Dillenburg residence?”

He gave a refined chuckle. “You’re making that up, right?”

“No, Jason. I am not. It has been independently confirmed by an American intelligence operative, working with the Swiss Guard. I have pictures.” He started to say something, but Ascolani waved him off. “Please, no denials or explanations. Save those for the tribunal. You will shortly be charged with fraud, theft, and bribery.”

His heart seemed to catch in his throat. “Where was this money found?”

“Inside the old priest hole. Which was equipped with modern upgrades. Was that your doing?”

“The house was remodeled a few years ago, and I had the priest hole upgraded and preserved. It has historical significance.”

“It apparently made for a good hiding place. The money is there.”

“Sergio, if that is true then I am being set up.”

An outstretched hand forbade further arguing. “You will have your opportunity to make a defense. In the meantime your access to the pope has been revoked. An action, I might add, that the Holy Father himself approved.”

“He knows about this?” Then it hit him. “Of course he does. You’d be the first to poison his mind.”

“I merely related that the confidential information provided to the tribunal had proven accurate. And I showed him the picture.”

“I want to see it.”

“It will be provided to your lawyer. I am formally notifying you that, effective immediately, you have also been suspended from all of your Curial duties. That suspension will remain in effect until this matter is resolved. Of course, it goes without saying that, if convicted, you will lose your cardinal’s hat.”

The decree came in a voice that carried an undertone of amused indulgence. “Won’t you be happy.”

“You have also been reassigned,” Ascolani said. “You are to report to Munich and stay at the Holnstein Palace until further notice. Cardinal Schultz says you are welcome there.”

The Holnstein was the official residence of the archbishop of Munich. Hanz Georg Schultz was a dear friend.

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