Page 19 of The Medici Return

“I got a lucky bounce.”

“Luck is where opportunity meets preparation.And, you, Father Giumenta, are always prepared.”

He appreciated the compliment.

“I am sorry you missed the celebratory dinner. I know how you love such things.”

He did. But, “I have enjoyed them before, and there will be others. I am curious, though, as to why the sudden summons. I was scheduled to be off for the next few days.”

“Eric Casaburi has finally surfaced.”

Really? They’d been watching for several months, ever since it was learned that Casaburi had cultivated a source within the Vatican. And an odd one at that. Jason Cardinal Richter. Who’d been making inquiries across the Curia about Casaburi and his new-right National Freedom Party. Apparently gauging theirpopularity for any tacit political support the church might be able to offer. Thankfully, the covert monitoring of phone lines and cell phones was not illegal within Vatican City. The situation had elevated once Richter’s possible involvement with the fraud trial was revealed by one of the co-defendants. Interestingly, the Swiss Guard had not reported that situation. Instead, more spies within the guard had alerted them. Friction between the two security agencies was not uncommon. One was domestic, the other foreign, though that line blurred on an almost daily basis. Richter was now under close Entity observation.

“Did Casaburi meet with Cardinal Richter?” he asked.

Ascolani nodded. “I had the room wired. All was recorded.”

Efficient. As always. And another example of that blurred line.

Nine years ago Stefano had been working out of the Archdiocese of Boston when he was reassigned to Rome’s Pontificia Accademia Ecclesiastica, where priests were trained as apostolic nuncios. The academy itself towered above the Piazza della Minerva in what seemed to be just another former Roman palace. He graduated the course and became part of what was considered to be one of the world’s elite corps of diplomats. He served three years around the world as a deputy papal representative. There he learned that the principal gatherers of intelligence for the Holy See were the apostolic nuncios, similar to ambassadors deployed by every nation-state. The only difference was that the Holy See, unlike other nations, did not make its intelligence officers known to the host countries. Why? Because the Entity did not officially exist and the Vatican did not employ intelligence officers. Stefano had caught the eye of his superiors, who recalled him to Rome and placed him in charge of the Entity’s Gruppo Intervento Rapido, the rapid intervention group, the people who handled the jobs that others could not, or did not want to.

Like Eric Casaburi.

“I was able to hear the entire conversation,” Ascolani said. “Casaburi first asked nicely for the church’s help then, once rejected, applied pressure.”

“How did Richter react?”

“To his credit, Jason said no. Quite decisively, too.”

He was impressed. “I did not see that coming.”

“Neither did I. And yet there were four hundred thousand euros in cash hidden inside a German residence that Richter controls.”

“So the information proved correct?”

“Apparently so.”

He’d known that the Swiss Guard had asked the Americans to assist them in verifying whether Richter might be dirty. Again, not a word of that had been passed up the chain of command to the Entity. That omission had drawn Ascolani’s attention.

“My source within the Swiss Guard,” Ascolani said, “sent me a photo the American asset took in Germany. A satchel full of euros hidden inside a priest hole, booby-trapped with a dye pack.”

All of which was interesting, but surely not why he’d been summoned.

“Another matter was raised during the conversation between Richter and Casaburi. A mention of something I thought I would never hear.”

He was eager for an explanation, but none came. Instead the face, with its sallow, pockmarked skin stretched over thin features, maintained a glacial control. He’d come to know that Ascolani was a man of patrician tastes and earthly language, who delighted in intrigue. Also tight-lipped. So he would only be told what he needed to be told.

His boss stood from the pew. “Before we have a much more detailed conversation on that other matter, there is a task I must complete. Please stay in Rome, readily available. I will be in touch shortly.”

Ascolani walked off.

He could not help himself and had to say, “You seem troubled, Eminence.”

The older man stopped in the aisle but did not turn back.

“I am.”

CHAPTER 11

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