‘What about the external security patrols?’ Allegra asked as they drove into the museum car park.
‘We’ll have to chance it,’ David said.
Allegra’s heart sank as the security patrol car drew into the car park behind them.
Roma
Cardinal Petroni flicked the television on. Two items were dominating the world’s media: the Pope’s failing health and the peace ceremony in Jerusalem. Petroni watched as the network recapped the events of the last month, showing a clip of the ambulance carrying the ailing Pontiff arriving at Rome’s Gemelli Clinic. The Pontiff waved feebly from his stretcher and Petroni sniffed derisively. When the Pope’s breathing had worsened, necessitating a tracheotomy, Petroni had approved the Vatican’s media releases that were designed to reassure the faithful. Now, in the Papal apartments directly above, the old Pope had suffered a heart attack and his kidneys were failing. Petroni had been angered when the Papal Physician had kept the true state of the Pope’s health to himself, but now the Pope’s condition was terminal and he had perhaps forty-eight hours left. Petroni allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. Given his legendary stubbornness, the Pontiff might hang on for a little longer, but seeking his resignation would not be necessary. Petroni had instructed a reluctant media office to prepare a media release ‘should he be called by the Lord’ and that was now ready for signature. Petroni leaned forward in his chair as the scenes of the lights in the Papal apartment windows faded, to be replaced with the Golden Cupola of the Dome of the Rock.
CCN, along with the world’s media, were covering the momentous peace ceremony in Jerusalem. The international journalists had been allocated an area on top of the old Wall, off to one side, and Tom Schweiker was giving a background brief on the lead up to the signing and the hope it held for the future. Not for you, Petroni mused. A contact in Washington had let him know that Schweiker’s investigation into Lonergan’s past had reached as far as the FBI and Petroni had told Felici to execute the next level. That would be done at the same time as the assassination of Donelli.
Jerusalem
Cameras, from which the feed was being pooled, were positioned at several points near the front of the podium. President Ahmed Sartawi would speak for the new State of Palestine, and as a cleric, he would also speak of the way ahead for Muslims in Palestine, supported by the presence of the Imam of Jerusalem on the dais. Prime Minister Yossi Kaufmann would speak for the State of Israel, and as a devout Jew, he would speak to the Jewish faith, supported by the presence of the Chief Rabbi of Jerusalem. Cardinal Giovanni Donelli, the Patriarch of Venice, would add the support of Christianity, the third great faith of Abraham. Giovanni would speak first, followed by Ahmed and then Yossi. Three leaders, three statesmen, three men of vision. Once the speeches were over, they would move to the table beside the lectern where the Prime Minister of Israel and the President of Palestine would sign the agreements handed to them by Giovanni.
Under the direction of the internationally renowned Israeli conductor Levi Meyer, the Peace Philharmonic Orchestra and Choir had been assembled in Jerusalem. The one hundred and forty piece orchestra boasted some of the best musicians, Jewish, Muslim and Christian, ever assembled in the history of music.
Marian was escorted to her seat beside the one reserved for Yossi on the official podium. The Peace Philharmonic, with the three hundred member choir behind, was seated 9 metres above her on a platform that had been constructed around the stone battlements of the Damascus Gate. Levi Meyer lifted his baton and the powerful light beams picked out the diminutive Israeli on his conductor’s podium. On Petroni’s television screen, the cameras panned in for a close-up of Levi, a light breeze ruffling his silver-grey hair, a look of concentration on his face. The cameras pulled back for a wide shot of the orchestra and choir. Like their conductor, the members of the orchestra were dressed in white dinner jackets and evening gowns, symbolic of peace. Behind them were the colours of the choir: on the left, a third of the choir were cassocked in the soft blue of the Israeli Star of David; on the right, brilliant green represented the universal colour of Islam; and between the two was the white of Christianity. The choir represented hope, peace and tolerance – the message of the great Prophets of history.
The sweeping strains of Beethoven’s Choral Mass in C Major reached into the darkness of the night, across the Valley of Kidron to the Mount of Olives, echoing around the souks and alleys of the Old City, and across the parks and gardens of the New City. The music floated across Golgotha where Christ had spent his last hours, bounced against the Western Wall of Nehemiah’s great second temple that had refused to succumb to the Romans, and splashed across the great Dome of the Rock where Muhammad had made his ascent to heaven.
Cardinal Donelli walked to his seat on the podium, his scarlet robes rustling in the breeze. He winked at Marian as he took his place beside her. She looked relaxed, calm and beautiful in the history of the moment.
Roma
‘Petroni!’ The irritation in the Cardinal Secretary of State’s voice was strident as he answered the buzz from his secretary.
‘I know you don’t wish to be disturbed, Eminence, but Ashton Lewis from the State Department in Washington is on line one. He said it was urgent.’ The long-suffering Father Thomas sounded nervous. Urgent messages from Knight Commanders of Malta were not to be ignored.
Cardinal Petroni snapped off the intercom without replying and composed himself.
‘Ashton, good to hear your voice. How can I help?’ Petroni asked, keeping his eye on the coverage of events in Jerusalem.
‘I thought you ought to know, Lorenzo, that the Administration is treating the peace process in Jerusalem with some caution. Kaufmann has made far too many concessions to the Muslims, and the Jewish lobby here is outraged at the support for the removal of the settlers, especially from the West Bank. The next election is still a long way out, but a lot of the Republican senators are nervous.’
As Cardinal Petroni listened, his agile mind formulated a plan.
‘I agree completely, Ashton, the Muslims can’t be allowed to gain the upper hand and I’m much obliged. When are you coming to Rome? We must have dinner.’
Cardinal Petroni put the phone down and got up from behind his desk, deep in thought. Ever since that impostor Muhammad had tried to usurp the role of Christ in the world and proclaimed himself the messenger of God, the evil followers of Islam had tried to extinguish the one true Faith. Now they were trying it again and the peace process in Jerusalem was a clear danger. In reality it was an accommodation with Islam that must never be allowed to gather strength. His mind made up, Petroni punched the preprogrammed number for the Knight Commander of Malta in the CCN studios in New York.
‘Daniel, it’s Lorenzo. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, Lorenzo, although we are all praying for Il Papa. It sounds very serious?’
‘I’m afraid so, Daniel. He has been a wonderful leader and he will be very hard to replace. The good fight must go on though, which is the real purpose for this call. This peace process in Jerusalem has us all very worried here.’
‘I couldn’t agree more, Lorenzo. We seem to be making a lot of concessions to the evil of Islam.’
Ten minutes later Petroni was confident the story would get a run. Anything that kept the Muslims and the Jews at each other’s throats could only be to the benefit of the one true path. Satisfied, he sat back to watch the progress of his intervention in the ceremony. Petroni was back in control, or so he thought.
Jerusalem
Marian looked at her watch, less relaxed now. ‘I wonder what’s keeping David and Allegra,’ she whispered to Giovanni.
‘They’ll be here,’ he whispered back. ‘Patrick told me they had some very urgent business to attend to, but they’d be back as soon as they could. The music is telling you not to worry,’ he added reassuringly.