Turino regarded him through eyes that had narrowed into defensive slits. “You asked if this was a turf war; that’s exactly what it is, Mr. Kismet. And they’ve dragged my granddaughter into it.”
“You have my sympathy but, forgive me for saying this, I thought that sort of stuff went with the territory.”
“I don’t expect you to approve of, or even understand, my life,” Turino rumbled. “But Capri is an innocent.”
“Let me guess. She thinks you’re a successful…what, plumber? Building contractor? And you no doubt play the part of doting grandfather.”
“Capri has no illusions about me, Mr. Kismet. But she has earned the right to judge; her parents…my beloved daughter, God rest her soul, and her husband were killed when she was just a girl. She wanted nothing to do with the family business, and I made sure she didn’t have to.”
Kismet poured himself another scotch whisky. Despite his ambivalent facade, he was curious about Capri’s background, and eager for clues that might expose the identity of the men that had kidnapped her. “You got her a cushy job writing for that rag, the Clarion?”
“She got the job on her own merits. In fact, she is a much better journalist than they deserve. I’m afraid the editors at the Times were as quick to judge as you are.”
“Okay, so she’s innocent. I did everything I could to save her-”
”For which I am grateful.” The capo leaned forward. “You may not like what I am, but be sure of this: my gratitude means something.”
Kismet nodded. “Fine, but why am I still here?”
Turino started to answer, then sat back and took a long pull on the cigar. He closed his eyes as he exhaled. “He almost killed you, didn’t he.”
“What?”
“Negron, the dark priest. He was there, right?”
“There wasn’t exactly a formal introduction.” Kismet winced at the memory and his hands unconsciously went to his throat. “Negron, huh? He seemed a little theatrical for an up and coming mob boss.”
“He’s much more than that. Negron is no ordinary priest.”
“I kind of picked up on that. Let me guess: he worships the Devil?”
The bodyguards shifted nervously and Sal crossed himself. Turino squinted again. “Are you familiar with the Vatican archives?”
“I understand they have an unparalleled collection of erotica,” Kismet said with a straight face.
Turino barked a short, humorless laugh. “For centuries, the Vatican has hoarded the world’s largest collection of art, historical documents, religious artifacts and so on. For the most part, the catalog has remained a closely guarded secret, even to those within the Church. But back in the late 1800's the Pope decided to open the archive to examination by scholars and members of the clergy. One of those scholars was a Benedictine monk visiting from Bogotá who was researching the Holy Relics of the Crucifixion. His name was Brother Emilio Negron.”
Kismet bit back a skeptical reply. He remained curious as to the connection the Mafia Don would make between the Vatican archives and the kidnapping of his granddaughter, but more than that, the mention of the capital city of the Republic of Colombia had struck a chord; the kidnappers uniform racial characteristics could be indicative of a common Latin American background. Turino seemed to be waiting for a response, so Kismet nodded. “Go on.”
“You are familiar with the relics of Christ? You deal with that sort of thing, right?”
“Splinters from the True Cross; the nails that pierced Jesus’ hands and feet; burial shrouds.” He shook his head. “Among other things, my office deals with historic art treasures from ancient civilizations. Religious artifacts typically have a dubious pedigree, and if you’ll pardon my candor, they’re a dime a dozen.”
There was a noncommittal grunt. “Brother Emilio found several of the items you’ve mentioned. But there was something else buried deep within the repository; something that was never meant to be revealed. Negron called it ‘the Judas Rope.’”
“According to the Bible, Judas Iscariot committed suicide after betraying Jesus. The Gospel of Matthew says he hanged himself.” Kismet flashed back to the dark cord that had been tied like a sash around the monk’s cassock. “Somebody kept the rope?”
“There is no official record to support that; only Negron’s supposition.”
Kismet folded his arms. “On the other hand, the book of Acts records that Judas jumped off a cliff and splattered himself all over the rocks. No rope. It’s one of many contradictions in scripture.”
“I’m not here to debate apologetics,” snapped Turino. It was the first time he had shown the slightest bit of irritation. “Whether or not you believe in these relics, or even in the teachings of the Church, this man Negron does believe.”
Kismet was unbowed. “Fine. He was a true believer. Now tell me how he ends up working for the guy downstairs.”
“Judas was seduced by avarice, one of the seven deadly sins. He was stealing from the poor box, and when he decided to betray the Christ, it was for money. But after the crucifixion, he felt remorse. He was so distraught he decided to take his own life. He tried to hang himself, but the rope broke and his body fell onto the rocks.” Turino took a deep breath. “Now, that is what the apologists say. Negron came to a different conclusion.
“When Judas betrayed the Christ with a kiss, he was damned, beyond hope of forgiveness. Even so, when he realized what he had done, he wanted to take it back. He threw the blood money into the temple, but it wasn’t enough. So he took a rope, tied it to a tree and tried to kill himself, as if his suicide — a mortal sin by itself — might balance scales and erase his eternal damnation. But the Devil knows when you try to renege on your deal. The rope broke and Judas died an accidental death. He was denied absolution from his crime and his black soul stained the rope noose around his neck. Brother Emilio believed that rope had become an unholy relic, wholly evil. Anyone touching it would be seduced into the service of Satan. No one is sure why, but after he figured all this out, Negron took the rope and vanished. He was subsequently excommunicated and sentenced to death in absentia by the Inquisition.”
“And he’s still alive over a century later?”
“I guess Lucifer actually kept his end of the bargain. As long as the servant remains faithful to his master, he is blessed with unending life.”
“Longevity doesn’t seem to agree with Brother Emilio.” Kismet stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Did you know that the Church invented Satanism? No one was worshiping the Devil until the Holy Inquisition decided it needed a pretext for persecuting its political enemies. The Black Mass, the rites and symbols, backwards Latin…all trumped up by so-called witnesses in order to condemn people who didn’t conform to the narrow interpretation of the faith or bow to the absolute power of the Church. If Negron believed that rope made people want to worship the devil, then it was his own belief that made it happen.”
Turino gazed at him, his face unreadable.
“Let’s say I accept everything you’ve said,” continued Kismet. “How does this involve you? And Capri?”
“Greed, Mr. Kismet. The sin of Judas. It is what drives Negron, even today.” Turino stubbed out his cigar. “For over a hundred years, Negron has roamed the world looking for acolytes to join him on the dark path. In the last few years, he has returned to the nation of his birth, and embraced a new generation of followers.”
“The drug cartels.”
Turino nodded. “One by one, he has corrupted the cartel drug lords to the path of evil.”