Page 94 of The Medici Return

“Julius was one of those rare popes who did not change his name. Julius, or Giulio in Italian, was his given name. At that time it was common to sign any document using the first initial. Here, the pope wrote in his own handFiat et Petut, let it be done according to Peter, then added theG. There are other documents from that time he signed identically.”

There was also one other mark.

A strange one too.

He pointed and asked about its significance.

“It’s the medieval mark of Banco Medici, used for authentication of their documents,” the lay brother said.

“Which means this is authentic?” Richter asked.

“It does.”

Which meant Cotton was looking at a five-hundred-year-old I-owe-you, payableto Giuliano de’ Medici, his heirs, successors, and assigns.

“That debt remains unpaid?” Camilla asked.

“It does,” Richter said. “It would amount to hundreds of billions of euros in today’s currency thanks to that 10 percent ‘gift’ added to the balance for 513 years. It is a sum the church could never repay.”

“Incredible,” Camilla said.

“But meaningless,” Cotton made clear, “unless you are an heir, successor, or assign of Giuliano de’ Medici.”

“Eric Casaburi thinks he is a descendant of Giuliano de’ Medici,” Richter said.

If that was true, what was heretofore a historical curiosity would become a binding legal document. Its terms were clear.The Universal Church will always and forever honor this pledge without challenge or protest.Cotton had not been a practicing lawyer for a long time. When Stephanie Nelle recruited him for the Magellan Billet, she’d liked the fact he had a law license, but during his dozen years on the government payroll there hadn’t been many occasions to really use it. But that did not mean he’d forgotten what he’d been taught. The document lying on the table, safe under glass, was a promissory note, due on demand, to the bearer, provided that bearer was an heir, successor, or assign of Giuliano de’ Medici.

He heard vibrating.

Camilla reached into her pant pocket and retrieved a phone, studied the screen for a moment, then slipped it back into her pocket. She nodded to the lay brother, who turned and walked back to the door, leaving the repository. Unlike the young man who wanted to marry the farmer’s daughter and passed on two perfectly good bulls with tails, Cotton had no intention of allowing any opportunity to escape.

Much less two.

CHAPTER 64

THOMAS HAD WATCHED AS TWO CARS ENTEREDSANTAMARIA DICastello. He’d stayed at his post, as ordered, rifle nearby, back propped against the tree. There was a feeling of comfort here in the blackened woods, a velvet sky overhead, only the stars watching him. A three-quarters moon hung in a western sky that did little to dissolve the darkness.

He’d been at the church’s disposal for the past nine years, working assignments around the world. Nigeria had been his first, where Christians were targeted by the Boko Haram insurgency, Fulani herders, and the local bandits. In the diocese of Minna a priest was burned to death and another injured. He’d been sent to extract a measure of retribution and had with the assassination of several key officials. He’d slipped in and out of the country, wreaking havoc, with none the wiser as to his identity.

In India, a Hindu nationalist government had curtailed the rights of all Christian faiths. Thousands of Catholics were being arrested and held without trial. Open harassment was common with more subtle pressures, including daily abuses at workplaces, schools, and public facilities. He’d been dispatched to apply some reverse pressure—five unexpected deaths—that helped persuade a few important officials that a change in policy might be in order.

In the Middle East and the Sahel region in Africa, due to jihadist insurgencies, Christians were in constant jeopardy. He’d helped there some, but the extent of the persecution was too much to effect any meaningful change. In Myanmar, thanks to a military coup, the ruling junta’s army had been targeting churches, especially Catholic ones. He’d been sent to the diocese of Mandalay where the Tatmadaw burned down a historic church. After the arsonists were identified, and nothing was done to them, he killed three.

Many other places had required his attention and he’d visited Burkina Faso, Mozambique, Colombia, Comoros, and Nicaragua. Two passages from Corinthians were his mantra.No believer should suffer aloneandif one part suffers, every part suffers with it, if one part is honored every part rejoices with it.

Amen.

A few minutes passed in silence.

More engines could be heard in the distance.

He turned.

Three more cars were coming down the road, headed for the monastery. They passed by at a high speed and kept going, also disappearing inside the gate in the wall.

Plenty of visitors tonight.

Still no further instructions.

---