We both fell silent as an unusual awkwardness descended on us. We were engaged to be married, and yet, we were suddenly talking like strangers. Mysterious secrets, hidden agendas and an unknown past were coming between us with no end in sight.
I walked into the living room and dropped my purse on the couch. “Slash, I have something to tell you. I was, ah, hanging around online, and decided to see if I could track down the sender of the statue package.”
No response. I pressed my hand against my forehead. “Okay. Fine. I wasn’t just hanging around. I deliberately and intentionally tracked down the sender on your behalf. I wasn’t just going to sit around and worry about you. I’m perfectly capable of helping you with or without your permission.”
He said nothing. I figured he was thinking what to say. We were on seriously shaky ground after all. Since I didn’t know what else to say, I waited.
“Thank you.”
It was a small step, but it was forward progress. Thank God for that. Still, I was so nervous, my words came out fast. “Do you want to know what I found out?”
“I do.”
Was it wishful thinking or did I hear a hint of hopefulness in his voice? I gave him a brief rundown of how I tracked the sender of the package through the claims company and by extension, the insurance company. “I was able to secure the electronic wallet number, but I needed to know to whom it belonged. I went through the Dark Web and came up with a name, thank goodness.”
“That was smart thinking,cara. No mishaps on the Dark Web?”
“None to my knowledge.”
“Did you get a name?” he asked, and now I was sure I heard a tinge of excitement.
“I did. It’s a guy named Julian Koenhein. Have you heard of him before?”
“No. It sounds German.”
I hadn’t even wondered. “I don’t know his ethnicity, but he works at the Vatican.”
Slash was quiet for a moment. “Where at the Vatican?”
I braced myself for the revelation. “In the office of Cardinal Jacopo Lazo. Lazo is the president of the Vatican.”
“I know who Lazo is. Are you sure about this,cara?”
“I’m sure. Does it mean anything to you?”
“It might.”
“Well, personally, I didn’t know the Vatican had a president. However, in hindsight, it makes perfect sense since the Vatican is technically a country, albeit the smallest in the world in terms of both population and area.” I was babbling, but I was afraid he’d shut me out again and say he had to go.
To my surprise, he explained further. “You’re right. The Vatican has a president appointed to the position by the pope for a five-year term.”
“Does the president work with a congress, or a parliament or something like that?”
“No. It’s not a democracy. The president is served by a secretary general and a vice secretary general, both of whom are also appointed by the pope for five years. The appointment is extremely delicate in terms of how the pope selects them. Often it’s to appease or strengthen certain political alliances.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It is. Even then, the president’s actions must be approved by a commission. The pope can remove any person at any time, although a move like that without good reason would be quite dangerous politically. The president is considered the most powerful position in the Vatican behind the pope.”
I thought that over. “Okay, then. So, the fact that Lazo’s clerk is sending me a statue from the Congo is not a good thing, right?”
“It’s not. But it gives me a lot to think about.”
He sounded tired—so tired it made my heart hurt. I had no idea what was going on in his head or what was bothering him so badly. “Slash, are you okay?”
“No. I’m not okay without you,cara. But I hope to get to the bottom of this soon and come home.”
“You’re not in danger, are you?”