“It’s my last question. I need to know how you did it.”
“And I need to know where you stored the papers.”
“You yourself said that they don’t contain anything explosive.”
“I guarantee you they don’t. And if they had appeared on the night of the murder, except for the list and the secret of Fátima, there would have been no dire results. But if they reappeared now, after all these years, they would be looked on differently.”
Sarah couldn’t avoid agreeing with the old man. The Holy See would be revealed as an institution entirely at odds with the scruples and morality that it pretended to defend. Those documents, among other things, would confirm that someone made them disappear. They would point the finger at the top figures in the Curia, and the Church might never recover.
“What does all of this matter to you? It’s hard to believe you pay much attention to the Church.”
“There are secrets that ought to remain in the shadows, truths that should never be uncovered.”
“Sooner or later, somebody will bump into them again and the truth will come to light.”
“Then let that happen as late as possible. When I’m dead, it will hardly matter to me what anybody does with those papers. But until then, it’s better for me to have them.”
“Don’t you want to destroy them?”
“No. I might need them at some point. Now, cooperate with me and keep your word.”
“I’ll keep it. I only want you to answer my last question,” Sarah replied, in a final attempt to buy time.
The old man was wrapped in a disturbing silence for some time. Sarah became anxious. Though it might not have seemed so, she needed to know how J.C. killed the pontiff. She didn’t know why, but she felt a compulsion to know.
“We’ll do the following. You’ll tell me what I want to know and then I’ll tell you.”
“But-” The young woman was hesitating.
“I always keep my promises,” the old man added.
Sarah didn’t doubt it. Hers was a different problem. As soon as she spoke, J.C. would forget about her, or kill her.
“I’m waiting,” J.C. pressed.
“Very well. The papers are kept in a safe place.”
Sarah paused.
“I know that very well. Please finish.” His dry voice announced it would no longer tolerate any more detours.
“Then you’ll understand that they’re so secure that I’ve no control over them.”
“What do you mean?” He raised his voice, threatening. “Explain yourself.”
“The papers are in the Vatican,” Sarah answered, very sure of herself. “That’s where they came from, and that’s where they needed to return. A pope’s papers belong in the Vatican.”
“Surely you’re joking.”
“No. I’m serious.”
The somber expression on J.C.’s face left no room for doubt. His sudden pallor accentuated the deep wrinkles of his face. Suddenly he was gasping like an asthmatic. For the first time Sarah was aware of his humanity. Rather than an automaton who arbitrarily disposed of people, he was a fragile old man at the end of the road.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Do I have any idea?” she spat back, both indignant and frightened.
“Your father and your friends are dead men, thanks to you.”
“So be it.” Her eyes welled with tears that she tried to contain. “I did what I had to do. You won’t have your way.”
“Do you really believe I won’t recover those papers just because they’re in the Vatican? What makes you think I don’t have people working there, as in 1978?”
“Times have changed.”
“Don’t kid yourself.”
Sarah wanted to believe that, yes, things had changed. It was true that conservatives had progressively gained more and more power in the heart of the Church. Now it was much less modern and liberal than Albino Luciani would have wanted, but there were also different people at its center now. There were no Villots or Marcinkuses in the new Vatican.
“If they haven’t changed, you have no reason to worry. Tomorrow, or at most in a couple days, you’ll have the papers under your control.”
The old man’s look indicated he thought that would not be the case. “And where are the others?”
“The others?”
“Don’t play the fool. Only you had the list. Where are the rest of the papers?”
For a moment she thought of making up something, but then rejected the idea. It was better not to tighten the rope too much. She may have already gone too far.
“I can only talk about the list. I know nothing about the rest.”
The old man waited a few minutes. When he was done, he struck the floor three times with his cane. The assistant immediately came in.
“Take her away. Eliminate the father, the daughter, and the double agent-the three of them. Then bring me Marius Ferris. We’ve got a lot to talk about. But first have him watch them die.”
“That would help loosen anyone’s tongue,” the assistant responded, smirking.
“Where are you taking her?” someone who had just come in asked.
“To the gallows,” the assistant answered sarcastically.
Barnes grabbed Sarah by her other arm and, without further ado, yanked her out of the assistant’s hands.
“What are you doing?” J.C. asked.
“Sit down,” Barnes ordered Sarah before he turned to the old man. “She sent the papers to the Vatican.”
“I know. She’ll pay for that.”
“I got a call, precisely from the Vatican, just minutes ago.”
The old man shuddered. Disbelief darkened his eyes.
“And what do they want?”
“It’s not what they want, but what they ordered.”
57
LAST DEFENSE SEPTEMBER 28, 1978 OFFICE OF HIS HOLINESS JOHN PAUL I
Hans had survived a hectic day, but he had the sense that the next few hours would lead to an endless, sleepless night.
The chief of security for the Swiss Guard had spent the whole afternoon receiving contradictory instructions. While many had come from the secretary of state, there were others from the head of the Vatican Archives, from the secretary of the synod, and from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.
That same afternoon, Cardinal Jean-Marie Villot’s secretary asked to have the Leo XIII passageway, usually kept closed, opened. Later, none other than the prefect of the Doctrine of the Faith told him that this was an unnecessary measure. Archbishop Paul Marcinkus’s office had recommended that he open all points of access to Pope John Paul’s private quarters. Other assistants to different cardinals stopped by the Swiss Guard’s offices to give him notes with even more unusual security details.
Hans finally guessed that a critical meeting was going to take place in the pope’s office, which was next to his private quarters, in the Apostolic Palace. Naturally, in the security chief’s judgment, this was a highly important political gathering, though informal, since there was no communication from the Vatican public-address system. All he could conclude from that bundle of faxes, phone calls, and loose notes was that those attending would include Secretary of State Jean-Marie Villot, Archbishop Paul Marcinkus, and the Archbishop Vicar of Rome, Ugo Poletti.
Hans headed for the Apostolic Palace and reinforced the Swiss Guard at the main entrance. Then he called an assistant to deploy guards at the back of the building. Each of the various attending groups was instructed to lead the cardinals through a discreet doorway. From there they would climb a side staircase and gain access to the palace corridor without interference. The Swiss Guard took care to seal off all the entrances and prevent any possible intrusion. This way, the cardinals, whoever they might be, would avoid meeting anyone en route and would arrive at the pope’s office within four minutes and fifty seconds. Hans also arranged for a pair of non-uniformed guards stationed at eighty-foot intervals, and at the entrance to the office, two of his best men in full regalia, according to custom.