Shout in the Dark (7 page)

*

THE NEXT MORNING
Enzo booked into the studios of TV Roma in the
commercial center of Rome, using his regular visitor's pass issued
some time ago and renewed without question every year.

"
Hot day today, Signor Bastiani." The security guard nodded
his usual lethargic greeting.

Herr Bastiani would have been better, or
Herr anything as long as it sounded German. What a fool never to
have changed his name!

"
Message for you from the Current Affairs team, signore. The
producer would like to see you before you hide yourself away in the
dark with your editor friend."

He felt himself blushing. Was nothing kept
confidential any longer? "Thanks. Fourth floor, I
think?"

"
Straight up in the elevator, Signor Bastiani."

The elevators were spacious and the
corridors wide in this palace of the small screen. He found the
Current Affairs office where the producer began waving a letter at
him.

"
Ciao
,
Enzo. Bad news, I'm afraid." The man sounded almost cheerful. "I
have to admit I thought you'd put us on the scent of something
special. I've applied a lot of pressure on Cardinal Amendola over
the past few weeks to admit the Vatican has the relic, but he can't
help us. I'm sure he would -- if anyone there had it. This reply
has just arrived from the man you thought was holding the relic.
Canon Levi in Archives."

He took the letter. The contents were
stunning. Angelo Levi. This must be the Jew who had been given the
relic in Saint Peter's in the war. The reply told him everything he
needed to know. The man was lying through his teeth: he had the
bronze head all right!

Three times he read the reply, signed by the
Canon. The words brought out the hairs on the back of his neck.

Although such a statue of Christ is known to
have existed in Caesarea Philippi, and to be contemporary with our
Blessed Lord and Savior, your suggestion that a painted bronze head
answering this description was recently in the possession of the
Vatican authorities is outrageous. It is my personal opinion that
you have been the victim of a hoax.

The producer sighed with an exaggerated
weariness. "Sorry, Enzo, it would have made good viewing. Looks
like we'll have to put pressure on the Pope to get the Turin Shroud
carbon dated. There's talk of him doing something within the next
few years. That's what the viewer wants nowadays. This is the early
nineteen eighties, for God's sake. Cut away the secrecy, I say. Put
these things out for full examination. If they're not genuine, then
we need to know. Why deceive people if things aren't all they're
claimed to be? What's happened to the Veronica? Do you follow what
I mean, Enzo? What's the real date of the picture they call the
Acheropita? That's the sort of thing we should be investigating.
Yes, shame about old Eusebius and the statue of Christ he
saw."

He paid no attention. Canon Levi had the
head, in spite of the denials. He and Rüdi Bretz must go to Saint
Peter's Basilica and pay the man of God a visit. He requested a
photocopy of the letter, grabbed his briefcase and hurried to an
outside phone. The videos could stay unedited.

"
Rüdi! Rüdi!
Painted head
,
the canon says! I'm the only one who's seen the wartime photograph,
and no one told the Vatican about the paint.... Speak up, Rüdi,
there's a lot of traffic in the background. I couldn't phone from
the studio,... Yes, of course Canon Levi's got it. You'll see,
we'll have the Shrine.... Come down to Rome straight away. I'll get
through to him on the phone. We need the money we've been banking
for the ADR.... Yes, bring it in cash. We can't bribe the man with
a check. Everyone co-operates when there's cash on
offer."

Twenty minutes later he was walking back to
his favorite hotel near the Via Nazionale, oblivious to the
tourists and the traffic.

The only son of Sturmbannführer Kessel.

He would see an attorney in Germany and
take his father
's name.
Manfred Kessel. It sounded good when he said it aloud.

Finding the right
phone number in the Vatican seemed to be
difficult. He studied the photocopy of Canon Levi's letter to TV
Roma. At least he knew where to start. Passed from one internal
exchange to another, it was on the fourth transfer that he was
given a private number.

A man's voice informed him rather
brusquely that the Canon had gone out to attend to his duties, but
he would be available on yet another phone number after seven. Enzo
thanked the secretary, writing the number in the notebook he kept
with his wallet.

At seven-thirty that evening he tried
again. To his amazement the Canon answered. "Canon Levi? My name is
Enzo Bastiani. You don't know me, not yet, but I'm interested in
some research being done by TV Roma on Christian relics.... That's
right, for the television program." Sound friendly to begin with.
He knew what to do. "I think we should meet .... I'm sure I
understand your position. Your reply to TV Roma.... Yes, about
the
painted
head,...
I think you know what I mean. A bronze head covered in a thick
paint, possibly white? The point is, no one told you it was
painted."

He broke off to let the Canon absorb the
implications.

"
My father gave it to the Vatican during the war for
safekeeping. He was a Sturmbannführer in the German army stationed
here in Rome. He wanted all Christian relics to be in the safe
custody of the Church -- for the duration of the war. That's the
sort of good-natured man he was. But he expected his own property
to be returned afterwards. Unfortunately the Communists killed him
in nineteen forty-four. I'm willing to pay good money to get my
father's property back, even though it does still legally belong to
my family."

The man began responding favorably, almost
enthusiastically. This was easier than he'd expected.

"
Thank you, Canon, I definitely think we should meet....
Money? Yes, I'm sure you've been hoping to make money from it....
Charity? You can give it all away if you want to, there'll be
plenty.... Ah, we're in business now are we?... You would? All
right, we could discuss that when we have our little
get-together."

A group of noisy Italian youths appeared
suddenly, chanting and clapping down the Via Borghese. Enzo hung up
quickly, withdrawing to the safety of a souvenir shop festooned
with gaudy shirts. This was one occasion when he was reluctant to
show off his Aryan looks. Being tall, blond and isolated right now
was not an ideal mixture. When he returned to the phone, and tried
ringing the private number he'd been using only five minutes
before, no one answered.

The next morning, Saturday, he managed to
make contact with the Canon's secretary. The man informed him icily
that Canon Levi had gone to Paris on personal business.

Three days later, after much persistence, he
learned that the Canon had returned and would be willing to speak.
He waited patiently to be put through on the private extension.

The Present

ALL THAT WAS
eighteen years ago, but Kessel could recall the
private meeting with Canon Levi in Saint Peter's Basilica, and
Rüdi's impatience with the time the negotiations were
taking.

Rüdi had argued angrily with Canon Levi.
Then he saw himself leap forward and stick the knife in the man's
stomach, while Rüdi held the Canon in an arm lock. It had been a
horrific day, and they had not even got sight of the relic, let
alone had an opportunity to take it. At least the money was safe.
That was when he finally left Rome, moving permanently to
Düsseldorf to be near Rüdi Bretz.

The Italian accent slowly disappeared
under intensive speech therapy from an expert in Günther Strasse.
He enjoyed his friendship with Rüdi for seven more years. Then his
friend died from a brain tumor, leaving an unattractive wife Helga.
The skinhead lout of a son Karl was then almost fourteen, a
fanatical supporter of
Achtzehn Deutschland Reinigung
.

One incident by Rüdi's hospital bed had
affected him deeply. Rüdi had pointed at him, shouting that he
could see the new Savior of Germany. He turned just to be sure he
was the intended recipient of the prophecy, and noticed that Rüdi's
stupid son had entered the ward. But surely Rüdi had not meant
young Karl. Unfortunately Rüdi Bretz's mind was not lucid enough to
confirm the point. Within six hours he was dead.

He could remember Karl spending the first
few days following his father's death remodeling a slim wartime
dagger used by the family as a paperknife. He recalled the
objectionable boy pushing it towards his face, claiming it was an
exact replica of a Göring dagger. It certainly had the ornate Nazi
wings on an ivory handle.

Karl boasted several times how mounting
the blade in the new handle required great patience and skill, but
he reckoned he had come up with a real weapon -- strong enough for
defense, and attack.

Kessel's thoughts came back to the
present. Their problems had only just begun. The boy had brought
that same knife to Rome, bragging that he was ready to use it for
the ADR. More likely he was ready to use it for his own amusement.
Maybe it was time to cut their losses and return to Düsseldorf --
to unpleasant questions about their unauthorized visit to Rome that
would surely be asked by Phönix

"
HOLINESS?"

The thin man repeated his tap at the door.
As private secretary he could easily enter unbidden, but it was
almost midnight and the Holy Father might be resting after studying
confidential files all evening. It would be undiplomatic to disturb
the Successor to Saint Peter in an unguarded moment of sleep.

"
Holiness?"

"
Please come in, Vittorio." The Pope slowly replaced a red
folder on the wide table. "I find the Levi file rather sad," he
said as Vittorio entered. He motioned to the papers from the file
that had occupied his attention for the past hour. "Canon Angelo
Levi's actions in attempting to sell the relic in the nineteen
eighties are perhaps not excusable, but they are certainly
understandable. He was always thinking of the poor. It must have
been a privilege to know the man."

"
Quite so, Holiness." The private secretary stood
hesitantly. "Father Josef Reinhardt is outside."

"
You can show him in, Vittorio." The Holy Father made no
attempt to conceal the files. "I have finished my homework for
tonight."

"
Yes, Holiness."

Reinhardt had been watching through the half
open door. Now he entered the small private room. From the high
window he caught sight of the red roof tiles on the Vatican
quarters lit by security floodlights. No windows overlooked this
room, allowing meetings to be conducted in the utmost privacy.

As Reinhardt stepped forward he lowered
his head momentarily. At the same time the secretary withdrew.
Although a frequent visitor, Reinhardt's customary bow was more
than a formality: it was a conscious act of submission to the Holy
Father.

"
Lovely to see you again, Josef. The relic is such a loss --
to the world as well as the Church. I think we will both be burning
some midnight oil over this one."

Reinhardt nodded. "I thought at first that
the civilian security forces had let us down badly this evening at
TV Roma, but none of us was expecting such a violent attack. To
give them their credit, the
GIS
reacted quickly once the alarm was raised."

"
I certainly have no complaints, Josef, although I regret
the destruction of the relic. But you have news to tell me, I
believe."

Reinhardt felt excited. "The television
interview with Sartini has been a blessing, Holiness. With a little
help from me, our young priest has become a high profile figure.
His concern for the disadvantaged will have made a big impression.
He feels strongly that we do not always use our relics in the most
unselfish way."

"
So it seems."

"
We have our rabbit. Now we will try for a wolf." Reinhardt
noticed the red file with Canon Angelo Levi's name on the cover.
"Unfortunately Cardinal Amendola is convening a panel of inquiry
into Sartini's behavior. He relishes an opportunity to discipline a
young priest."

"
And you think the Cardinal will hinder your
work?"

"
He would definitely not be the man of my choice to head
this panel, Holiness. I have insisted I am present at the interview
with Sartini. I cannot allow anyone on the panel to wreck my plan
with their petty hang-ups."

The Holy Father shook his head. "I know
that you and Luigi Amendola you have not always seen eye to eye,
but for once you must put your differences aside. There is
something very wrong in the world, Josef. Were the fascists really
trying to use the Son of God to achieve their evil ends this
evening?"