At first glance all the doors were closed, but he knew that was not so. Not for him.
He walked to the door on the far left, opened a glass-paned door and another wooden one painted green. The creaking hinges announced his presence.
The interior was grandiose. Ten side chapels dedicated to various religious subjects from the Passion to the Sacred Heart, and to the mortal remains of Saint Ignatius, the helmsman for eternity for the society.
At the back, next to the high altar, a man in black was kneeling, hands joined, head bowed. With his back turned he couldn’t see who it was.
‘Come nearer,’ the man in black said.
He came forward slowly, checking each niche and exit where he might hide in case of an attack. His senses were fully alert.
‘Come, my son. Don’t be afraid,’ the other said. ‘Ad maiorem Dei gloriam. We don’t attack our own. Perinde ac cadaver. Deus vocat. You have been a faithful servant,’ he said irritably.
He walked more quickly. He remembered the verse that came to him in the street and smiled. Have no fear, for the Lord, your God, will fight for you. He was welcome. He knew it. He felt it.
When he came to the transept, he stopped at a respectful distance from the man who was praying to the Almighty.
‘Come closer,’ the other ordered. ‘Kneel beside me.’
He obeyed hesitantly. Terrified would more accurately characterize his feelings, but he knelt down, blessed himself, joined his hands, and shut his eyes.
He didn’t even try to look at the other man out of the corner of his eye. All he could see was the stems of his glasses.
‘The enemy deceived us,’ said the man in black.
What? He hadn’t expected this revelation. He had to say something or look like an idiot.
‘How did that happen, sir?’
‘I lack men like you, my son. Dedicated, competent, believers. We are living in difficult times.’
‘You can count on me, sir. My purpose is to serve God, and God only.’ This escaped him before he could control his tongue.
‘You’re my best servant, my son,’ the other repeated sorrowfully. ‘Two names are left on your list.’
He confirmed that with a nod, though he knew it wasn’t a question.
‘You’re going to have an opportunity to fulfill the will of God tonight. I’m going to give you all the necessary information.’
‘I’ll do it with dedication, sir,’ he asserted.
‘I know, Nicolas. I know,’ the other said, calling him by his name in a clear demonstration of confidence. He took a paper from his pocket and gave it to the servant. ‘This is all the information you’ll need.’
Nicolas took the paper and put it away. It was not appropriate to read it at the moment.
‘Your help has been invaluable,’ the man in black praised him. ‘What was the code for Ursino?’
‘KS,’ he said.
‘We have an RO for the Spaniard, HT for the Turk, IS for the German, and KS for Ursino. What will Ratzinger’s be?’
Nicholas was like a timid child who thought he knew the answer, but was uncertain and afraid to reply.
‘Say it, man,’ the other ordered, not missing anything.
‘If you will permit me to suggest, sir, I think that Ratzinger and Wojtyla have no code. It seems to me the code should be KHRISTOS.’
The other reflected on this a few moments and then raised his hand to his forehead. ‘Of course. We’re blind to the obvious, Nicolas.’
‘And now, sir?’
‘Now follow the instructions I gave you. Our enemy is now no longer Ben Isaac. We were deceived, but there is time to correct the error,’ he proclaimed vehemently. ‘The dice have been rolled.’
‘Certainly, sir,’ Nicolas replied, getting up. There was work to do.
‘Wait. Kneel down with me. We’re going to pray the Our Father together. He’ll give us strength to finish this business.’
Nicolas kneeled down promptly, hands joined, head bowed, eyes closed, and repeated the Lord’s Prayer.
60
No matter how many turns the earth makes around the sun, it always ends up in the same place, as if it were a faithful servant of an unknown order, and although the orbit is always the same, day after day, night after night, year after year, the blue firmament is always different.
Life imitates this rotation, turning on itself and around others, passing the same places but in constant evolution, mobile, changing.
Sarah saw him and blushed immediately as soon as he entered the plane cabin behind Gavache. She had seen him a little more than six months before in this same city, and despite not being the same person herself, it was as if she had just seen him yesterday.
She hated blushing, but fortunately Gavache made sure all the attention was on him.
‘Commander, get us on our way. First stop Paris, and then wherever you want. It doesn’t matter to me,’ he said while he took off his overcoat and sat down heavily in a seat.
‘We’re going to Paris?’ Jacopo protested. ‘What great service.’
‘How many times do we save lives every day, Jean-Paul?’ Gavache asked as he looked out the window.
‘Once, Inspector,’ Jean-Paul promptly answered, seated next to Sarah.
Gavache looked back at Jacopo and frowned. ‘My work is done for the day.’
Rafael and Sarah exchanged looks quickly, then the priest sat down next to Gavache.
An attendant came out of the cockpit and entered the passenger cabin with a cell phone in her hand. ‘Captain Frank Terry has ordered electronic devices turned off. We’ll be taking off in twenty minutes. We’ll make a brief stop in Paris and continue on to Rome, our final destination. Estimated time of flight is four hours. I wish you a pleasant flight, and I look forward to serving you.’ She immediately went to Sarah with the phone. ‘You have a call, miss.’
Sarah lifted the phone to her ear and blushed again on hearing, ‘Good afternoon, my dear.’ It was JC. ‘I hope this hasn’t been a boring day.’ Always cynical. He never changed.
‘On the contrary,’ she replied sarcastically. ‘The part when you suggested that Ben Isaac kill me was a brilliant touch.’
‘I couldn’t resist, Sarah,’ JC confessed. ‘And it worked, as you see.’ He changed the subject. ‘I just left your beloved at the airport. Tonight he’ll be back in the hotel where you’re staying. You should be proud of him. He played his part perfectly.’
‘I heard.’ Sarah suddenly felt guilt for not thinking about Francesco. ‘How is he?’
‘I gave him five-star treatment, Sarah.’
I imagine so, she thought. But she also knew that Francesco wouldn’t appreciate it for a moment. She would have a lot to explain.
‘Do you want to give me a message for Cardinal William?’ she asked.
‘No, thanks. I’ll get in touch with him personally. But give my thanks to Inspector Gavache. I’ll arrange for his daughter to get into the Sorbonne, but don’t tell him that. I’m only bragging. I have to ask you another favor, Sarah. Nothing too difficult.’
Sarah closed her eyes. She remembered William in the Palazzo Madama, saying the same thing. JC told us that Sarah was the right person for the job and no one else. He kidnapped the son of a famous Jewish banker. We’re going to put you in contact with him to get back the parchments I spoke about.
‘How will I do that?’ Sarah had asked incredulously in the middle of the gallery displaying the faces of Christ.
Just follow the instructions he’ll send you during the operation. He gave her a cell phone. You can’t imagine how grateful the church will be for all you are doing.
Everything had gone well. He’d sent her a message to say that he’d asked Ben Isaac to get rid of her, which made her apprehensive, but then he told her that Gavache and Garvis were on the way. Everything happened according to JC’s plan.