Chapter Eleven

 

Cairo - Tuesday, April 21

When Hammid entered “Treaty of Tuscany” into Google, it returned 22,325 hits. Two weeks ago, it had returned zero.  How many would it return in another two weeks? Fifty thousand? Five hundred thousand? The Old Man’s ideas about gradually letting details of the treaty leak out looked better every day. Thousands of people all over the world were advancing his cause with their well-intentioned investigation and earnest discussion.  Web sites, discussion forums, and even legal blogs had taken up the treaty. Just sprinkle a few seeds in the right spots.

Let the press do your work, the Old Man had cautioned. “They don’t care if it’s true, they just want to get their story on TV. They will do anything for better ratings. They package the news as entertainment. They have little education, but they consider themselves worldly and informed. They know nothing of history, not even their own. The more outlandish the story, the harder they work to make it true. And never, never underestimate how much they resent that they do not rule their own societies. They know they are smarter than everyone else. See how much they interview each other? And it is only a cruel trick of fate that they are not in charge.”

What the Old Man didn’t yet realize was the press had become the stepchild of the Internet. Now the press meekly followed wherever the Internet pointed. 

But now the time had come for Hammid to step forward, and let the Arab and Muslim world see their champion. Let them see who stood up for them, let them see what a real leader looked like.

 

*     *     *

In the continuing story of the Treaty of Tuscany, CNN has learned the man in possession of the treaty is Hammid Al Dossary, a Saudi, and son of the mysterious billionaire financier, Abdul Al Dossary.

We visited with Mr. Al Dossary earlier today in Cairo.

CNN: Mr. Al Dossary, do you have the Treaty of Tuscany?

Al Dossary: Yes.

CNN: Do you have it with you, here in this hotel suite?

Al Dossary: No, no. It is in a far more secure place than this hotel. It must be protected.

CNN: Can you tell us where it is at this moment?

Al Dossary: John, I can tell you it is safe and being examined by experts.

CNN: There have been some very unsettling reports about the contents of the treaty. Can you shed some light on that?

Al Dossary: I regret to say the treaty is very disturbing. First, it calls for the virtual elimination of Islam from the world, and second, it proclaims this to be a duty binding on all Christians to the end of time. You can understand how that would appear to over one billion Muslims peacefully living all over the globe.

CNN: But isn’t this over eight hundred years ago?  How can that possibly have any effect on people today? The Vatican isn’t even aware of it, and historians have universally expressed ignorance of the treaty.

Al Dossary: Of course, I can’t speak for the Vatican. You’ll have to deal with them yourself. And history? We learn as we discover. This has now been discovered. That’s how we learn about the past. This is a wonderful opportunity for historians. But I can tell you this was promulgated to all the faithful by two Popes and it specified any who did not accept it were anathema and expelled from membership in the Church.

CNN: But surely that wouldn’t apply today.

Al Dossary: Again, I urge you to ask these questions of the Vatican, but under the Church’s doctrine of infallibility, the Pope cannot be wrong in such matters… in this case two Popes. So, the infallible order applies to all Christians today, just as it applied to all Christians in the year 1189. Very disturbing, indeed, and very disappointing.

CNN: Given the explosive nature of these charges, when will the world see the treaty?

Al Dossary: The world will see the treaty when we have finished our work. As I said, it is our duty to be very, very careful.

CNN: Can you tell our viewers how you came into possession of the treaty? Where did you get it?

Al Dossary: Yes, John. It was found by a workman in the excavations for the new parking facility under the Vatican. When it found its way to us, we realized its importance, and have taken every precaution to safeguard it.

CNN: Doesn’t that make it the property of the Vatican? If it was found under the Vatican?

Al Dossary: John, take a walk through the great museums of the West. Look in the British Museum, the Louvre, or the Vatican Library itself. Countless artifacts from all over the world have been taken by force from their lands of origin. Perhaps you might ask when these priceless treasures will be returned to their rightful owners? But, until then, I think this treaty, which is aimed at Muslims, will find a quite fitting home among its targets.

CNN: Would you, Mr. Al Dossary, be willing to submit the manuscript to rigorous testing to determine its authenticity? Testing by an international organization?

Al Dossary: That is certainly something I would consider.

 

Hammid played the interview for the fourth time on the video recorder in his hotel suite. He did look good. He was confident, serious, concerned for his fellow Muslims, and in control. The CNN crew asked all the questions he had given them before the interview, and when he ushered them out, the CNN producer shoved his card at him and promised to be available night and day, twenty-four hours, he said, to get this story out to the world. The Old Man was right about these people. Throw them a bone and watch them jump.

Ten minutes after the CNN crew left, the Arabic Al Jazeera TV crew arrived and asked the same questions, just with more emphasis on the idea that all Christians today were obliged by their religion to eliminate Islam.

The Al Jazeera interview let him express an indignation and anger absent in the English interview, and promise to stand up for all Muslims and Arabs in facing down the West. Arabic was so much better for stirring the passions. And he did look like a leader, a passionate leader no longer willing to put up with the exploitation of his people. As many had shown before, that was a winning formula.

He dialed Dhahran on his cell phone. “Abdullah, get our people moving. All of them. I want Cairo, Karachi, Jakarta, Sudan, Somalia, Morocco… everywhere. All of them. The interviews have been broadcast. English and Arabic.”

“Yes, I saw the Al Jazeera interview. We all did. This is a great thing we do.”

We? Thought Hammid. Where does he get the “We?”

“I want you to be specific when you talk to them. This must start in the mosques, not the streets. Do you understand this?”

“Yes, Sheik, in the mosques.”

“Let the imams spread the word at the mosques, then let the people follow their own course. Every city will be different. Let it flow. Let the Pakistanis follow their own course, and let the Turks do it their way. This must be a true expression of the different Muslim peoples of the world. When they leave the mosques, they will do what we want without any further prompting.” Was he getting like the Old Man, he wondered.

“Yes, Sheik, I’ll get on it immediately.”

Hammid broke the connection. Sheik? Now, that was progress. It was the first time anyone had called him that, and he liked it. He must have done a better interview than he thought.

 

*     *     *

CNN is receiving reports today of rioting in half a dozen major cities in the Muslim world. Reports are coming in from Karachi, Cairo, Beirut, Istanbul, Jakarta, and Tehran. CNN’s Greg Powell in Karachi has the details.

Thank you, Peter, as you can see behind me here, Pakistani army units have set up road-blocks to keep the thousands of rioters from the center of the city. Hospitals have reported at least twenty-two dead and scores more injured as this mob surged through the city after reports that Western armies were preparing gas attacks to enforce the Treaty of Tuscany demand that Islam be eliminated from the world. Most of the deaths, we are told, occurred at the facilities of the Catholic Relief Organization not far from here. Ironically, sources tell us that most of those workers are not Christian, but Muslims employed by the organization.

This is Greg Powell with CNN International in Karachi, Pakistan.

Thank you, Greg, and now we go to Laura Kent covering a developing story outside the gates of Vatican City in Rome. Laura, what can you tell us of events there?

Well, Peter, I’m standing just outside the gates to the giant St. Peter’s Piazza. It was just behind us, as you know, in the Basilica of St. Peter, that a tragic bomb took the lives of over a thousand people on Easter Sunday.

Another life was added to that toll this afternoon when a twenty-one-year-old Muslim student from Yemen immolated himself in front of the Vatican. Onlookers say he stood silently for ten minutes, then reached into a shopping bag, took out a can of gasoline, and poured it over his head. He then struck a match and quickly succumbed to the flames.

This all happened as a group of about one hundred Muslims was protesting in front of the Vatican at the time, and they are as shocked as everyone else. They stress to us that this is strongly condemned by Islamic teaching, but sources say the student was despondent over recent revelations about the Treaty of Tuscany.

We’re waiting for a name on the victim, Peter, and will pass it along just as soon as we get it.

This is Laura Kent, CNN International, Vatican City, Rome.

 

When Mancini walked back in the Vatican after looking at the burned victim on the sidewalk, he gave the order to lock down. If the Pope didn’t like it, he was sure he’d hear about it.

He heard about it in fifteen minutes when Agretti’s secretary called and said he had an immediate appointment with the Pope. “Immediate, you say, like right now? In my undercover jeans and sweatshirt?” he asked.

“Yes. The Pope wants you this instant. I hear we’re in lock-down again. So does Cardinal Agretti, and that means the Pope knows.” He chuckled. “Good luck, Mancini.”

He had never met a Pope, and really wasn’t sure about the proper protocol. Well, the Pope had never met him, either, so they were even.

Carlos Perez, the Pope’s personal assistant, met him on the second floor of the papal residence. “Thanks for coming. The boss wants to talk about this lock-down.” The boss? Maybe these guys didn’t know who they had elected. “Don’t worry. He’s just an ordinary guy.”

The Pope nodded and shook his hand. “Sorry I haven’t talked with you yet, Mancini.” He let both hands fly out. “But it’s all going to hell around here.” He pointed at a Formica table and orange chair in the middle of the room. “Have a seat.”

This was the Pope, thought Mancini. God’s representative? The guy who’s supposed to walk around with folded hands and a tight smile blessing the multitudes? He looked more like a bouncer in a Pope costume.

“Yes, Sir… uh… Holiness.”

The Pope sat opposite him. “You ex-military, Mancini?”

“Yes, Sir…Holiness, Italian anti-terrorist forces.”

“Good. I was with the US Marines in Viet Nam. Forget the ‘Holiness’ stuff. To you, I’m just plain old ‘Sir.’ Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’re one of the guys who got hit running into the Basilica on Easter?”

“No, Sir. The guy who got blown back out was Callahan. I was behind him, but down a flight of stairs, so the blast missed me.”

“How’s this Callahan?”

“He’s Ok. Looks like… uh… he has a lot of bruises on his face, but he’ll be Ok. He was a US Marine, too.”

“Figures,” said the Pope.

The Pope pointed out the window. “What happened? Today. Outside?”

Mancini told him as simply as he could, and the Pope put a foot up on the chair next to him. “You see the news today? The riots? This Treaty of Tuscany business?”

“Yes, Sir. That treaty plus this out here today? That’s why we’re in lock-down now.”

“I want this place open, Mancini, but I also want everyone who comes in to leave in one piece.”

This was his opportunity, thought Mancini. “I think we both know we can’t do that with a one hundred percent guarantee, Sir. But we can sure do it a lot better than we are today.”

“Why haven’t we?”

“The last Pope wouldn’t allow it, Sir, and Cardinal Agretti won’t approve any changes.”

“Well the new Pope allows it. Put together a plan, what you need, what it will cost.” He exchanged a look with Carlos that Mancini didn’t understand. Carlos nodded

“You two figure this out.” He waved them out. “Get to work. And Mancini, lock it down when you think there is a danger. I don’t care what Agretti says.”

 

Vatican - Wednesday, April 22

Agretti saw only two choices before him. He could admit the treaty was genuine and watch the foundations of the Church crumble before his eyes as the secularists, atheists, Protestants, Muslims, Jews, and dissident Catholics attacked mankind’s only hope. Or he could stand firm and deny the treaty with the strength of the Holy Spirit. What choice did he have? Was there really a choice? Was there a choice for a man of God? One path led to ruin. The other promised a very painful fight, but it was a fight for God.

And if that Mexican Pope found out the treaty was real, what would he do? If he saw it, and saw the tests, and listened to the scientists, would he have the faith to stand firm and deny it? Agretti doubted his faith was strong enough.  He didn’t understand that God sent these crises to test them, to challenge their faith, plant doubt, and allow them to triumph over evil. Almost any crisis would pass with time as long as they remained firm.

Could the Holy Spirit have passed over him for Pope so he would be in exactly this position when he was needed?

But how was he going to convince this Jesuit spokesman? He had a long string of university degrees, but did he have the strength of faith to be a warrior of God? He should have selected someone loyal and strong in the Spirit instead of someone smart.

“I can’t go out there and say the treaty doesn’t exist,” Gerard protested.

“Of course you can. Just stand up with the inner strength the Holy Spirit will provide and tell the world this is a hoax.”

“Hoax? But, Cardinal, how do we know it is a hoax?”

“Look. It’s simple. If we accept the doctrine of infallibility, then we must accept that those Popes in 1189 were infallible. If they called for eliminating the Muslims, and said it was the will of God, that would be wrong. They couldn’t have said that. It’s impossible. Can’t happen. The Holy Spirit wouldn’t have allowed it to happen.”

Gerard squinted at the Cardinal. “Are you seriously proposing that as an argument? You expect me to tell that to the world?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I expect. Whose side are you on?”

This guy was born five hundred years too late, Gerard realized. Blanket denial worked just fine with an illiterate population that accepted every word from the priest’s mouth without question. The Earth isn’t flat anymore, and the sun doesn’t move around the Earth. But that’s not what he faced out there.

“Cardinal, the bottom line is I can’t go out there and deny the treaty exists. You need someone else for that. What I can do is reiterate that there is no record of it, we have never even seen this hypothetical treaty, and the requirements for an infallible statement are quite complex.” He paused to gauge the Cardinal’s reaction. “Remember, this guy Al Dossary holds all the cards. We don’t know what he has. Suppose it exists, and he has it. Even if we wanted to lie and deny it exists, we would need to know what it said, and we don’t.”

“I’m not asking anyone to lie, I’m asking you to have faith in the Church and faith that the Holy Spirit would never allow two Popes to say what they are accused of saying.”

The Jesuit sighed. “Cardinal, history does not present a gentle view of some of our Popes.”

 

*     *     *

In the wake of the death toll following Hammid Al Dossary’s revelations about the alleged Treaty of Tuscany, there have been calls from around the world for the Vatican to be more forthcoming about the treaty. We go now to CNN correspondent Laura Kent at Vatican City.

Yes, Peter, we are here with Father Jacques Girard, spokesman for the Vatican.

CNN: Father Girard, is the Vatican prepared to deny the existence of the Treaty of Tuscany?

Girard: The Vatican has extensively researched existing records from the time, and has enlisted the aid of scholars from around the world. All this shows no trace of the alleged treaty.

CNN: Is that a denial?

Girard: It is a statement that there is no record of the treaty.

CNN: Is the treaty a hoax?

Girard: I can only tell you what I know. We have no trace of the treaty in any existing historical record. None. Given that, there is no basis to believe it existed.

CNN: But Hammid Al Dossary claims to have the treaty in his possession.

Girard: Yes.

CNN: Is he lying?

Girard: That is an issue you should take up with Mr. Al Dossary.

CNN: And millions of Muslims around the world believe the treaty exists.

Girard: Yes. We have seen the unfortunate consequences of that belief in the Karachi body count.

CNN: Have you spoken to Pope Dominic about the treaty?

Girard: No, not a personal conversation. But, I assure you, he has no more information about it than the thousands of scholars who have tried to find just one single mention of the treaty in the extensive historical record.

CNN: Does the Church take any responsibility for the deaths in Karachi?

Girard: No.

 

*     *     *

“I wonder what their end-game is.” Templar Master looked around the table. “Because it looks like they are walking into a trap of some sort. If Al Dossary produces the treaty, this house of cards…” he pointed at the TV screen, “all falls apart.”

“Maybe they found something in their archives that shows the whole thing is a hoax,” said the Templar Archivist. “But if they did, I’d love to know what it is.”

“Well, they know Al Dossary has the treaty, they know what it says, and now Al Dossary has lit the fuse. Each day he lets out a little more about it.” He looked at the Archivist. “It’s all accurate, isn’t it? The stuff he’s leaking about the treaty?”

“Ah, it’s chapter and verse what the treaty says.”

The Marshall cracked his broken knuckles. “Do we need to do anything?”

“We are doing something. We have Jean Randolph and a cast of thousands at that chalet,” the Archivist replied. “What do you want? Shoot the guy and make him a Treaty Martyr? We’d have a billion Jihadis then.”

The Marshall laughed. “A great man once said any problem can be solved by the proper application of high explosives.”

“And it was a short fuse that ended his days.”

The Master rose. “Ok. This is the Vatican’s call, and they might end up looking foolish, but no matter what they do we can’t let this unite all those nut cases against the West. I don’t know what they’re up to. Maybe I’ll give Sanchez a call. If he has some grand plan, maybe we can work with him.”

The Master looked over at the Archivist. ”Keep your operation at the Swiss chalet going. I don’t want to get caught flat footed here. We can’t let any opportunity go by because we aren’t prepared.”

 

*     *     *

Dickenson: Good evening. This is the Ken Dickenson show, where we bring you the facts behind the headlines. Tonight’s guest is Father Jerome Becker, chairman of the theology department at Georgetown University here in Washington.

Dickenson: Thanks for coming in tonight, Father.

Becker: It’s a pleasure to be here.

Dickenson: Let’s start off with this Treaty of Tuscany. From what has been released by Hammid Al Dossary, there are two major issues. The first is that it calls for the elimination of Islam, and the second is that it is an edict issued under the Pope’s infallible teaching authority. Is that a fair summary, Father?

Becker: That is a fair summary of what Mr. Al Dossary has told the world. But I can’t say it is contained in a treaty, nor do I have reason to believe such a treaty exists.

Dickenson: Ok. That’s fair, Father. But let’s talk about the meaning of the doctrine of papal infallibility. What exactly is papal infallibility?

Becker: Well, volumes have been written, but simply stated, it says the Pope cannot err in matters pertaining to faith or morals…

Dickenson: Can’t sin? Can’t murder? Can’t steal?

Becker: Let me finish. He can’t err when promulgating teachings on faith and morals to the people. It’s the teaching authority rather than the personal conduct of the man that is the issue.

Dickenson: So, every time a Pope says something about faith or morals, it is infallible?

Becker: No. Infallibility has certain conditions. First, it must be what we call “ex cathedra.” That’s Latin for “from the chair.” That means it is from the teaching chair, the chair of St. Peter, and it’s meant as a teaching. It must be a teaching, definition, or doctrine. It must relate to faith or morals, and it is a teaching that is binding on the entire Church membership. As such, it must be sent out and made public. It can’t be something done in secret.

Dickenson: Well, suppose he says Unicorns exist?

Becker: He can say that if he wants, but since that has nothing to do with faith or morals, it wouldn’t qualify.

Dickenson: How about if he said it is a matter of faith that Jesus had three eyes?

Becker: Under the doctrine of infallibility, he would be prevented by the Holy Spirit from saying something like that.

Dickenson: The Holy Spirit would stop him from saying that? How?

Becker: I can’t give you the Holy Spirit’s detailed playbook, but the doctrine says it is not possible for the Pope to err in this matter.

Dickenson: Suppose he said Islam must be eliminated?

Becker: I think you’re asking me to comment on a treaty that doesn’t exist. I won’t do that.

Dickenson: You don’t believe the treaty exists?

Becker: No.

Dickenson: Why not?

Becker: I don’t have a reason to believe that.

Dickenson: But Mr. Al Dossary says it does exist, and he has it.

Becker: That is not sufficient reason for me to believe it. Suppose I told you I had the original United States Declaration of Independence folded up in my pocket. Would you believe it?

Dickenson: No. But I’d ask to see what you have in your pocket.

Becker: But you wouldn’t believe it on my say-so alone?

Dickenson: No.

Becker: No, you wouldn’t because you would have no reason to believe it. It’s the same with this treaty claim.

 

*     *     *

The Pope clicked from one recorded news show to another. America, Britain, Italy, Spain, Mexico, they all followed the same pattern.  Historians talked about the Crusades, theologians explained infallibility, histories of the Popes emphasized the scoundrels, and Muslim scholars explained the peaceful essence of Islam.

“It’s like this everywhere, Carlos?” the Pope asked.

“Yeah. I put together about twenty of those in your languages. No need to look at them all, it’s the same stuff over and over. ‘The Pope says exterminate the Muslims because God says so and the Pope’s infallible.’ Blah, blah, blah.”

 “What I don’t get is how much longer they can continue without showing their hand. Nobody has seen the treaty. Everyone’s taking it on faith. Uh, that was a poor choice of words.”

He watched Carlos. “Well, out with it. What’s on your mind?”

“Is it time to call them out? Put up or shut up?”

“That’s what I thought, and that’s just what I was wondering. Al Dossary has been calling all the shots. Maybe it’s our turn at bat.” He whacked his hand down on the desk. “I’m tired of getting my ass kicked. Set up a meeting tomorrow morning. Agretti, head of the Congregation, the head librarian. Round up all the usual suspects.”

 

Zurich - Wednesday, April 22

The Templar Master held a picture of the original treaty in one hand, and one of Jean’s practice forgeries in the other, looking from one to the other. “You say the coloring of the paper will be the same?” he asked the Archivist.

The Archivist said nothing, just slid a test page from the Bible onto the desk. The Master looked at the brown page. “Burn up that whole Bible getting it right?”

“Just through the Book of Amos.”

The Master took his glasses off and threw them on the desk. “Patrick, you know as well as I that my Latin isn’t up to reading this.”

“Oh, it’s not? What a pity. Let me see if I have your native language in here somewhere.” The Archivist dug in his briefcase. “Here’s a French. Better?” He slid another page across the desk.  “And here’s the English, since most of the civilized world has abandoned French for English.”

The Master read the original and forgery in each language and grinned.  “This is really good. I hate to inflate your ego, but it’s really good.”

“Yes, I’d have to agree. It is good.” The Archivist frowned. “But the critical step is copying it to our single piece of Twelfth Century parchment. It’s already been gilded at the top and the scroll dye applied to the margins. It’s all faded and chipped, and looks like it’s eight hundred years old. It better. It is eight hundred years old. And the ink and dyes have all been hand made up there at the chalet. We put them through all the tests and they all test just like real Twelfth Century stuff.”

“So,” the Master said, “what you’re telling me is it’s all up to Jean Randolph’s skill. One shot at it, right?”

“Right.” The Archivist bobbed his head.  “Always has been. Screw it up once and we can forget about it. No second chances.”

 “How’s she acting?”

The Archivist sat back and nodded slowly. “Doing anything and everything we ask, and contributing things we didn’t think about. She’s onboard here. And what a talent! She doesn’t know who I am, and I’ve only dealt with her on our private network, but Marie has sent me her work.”

The Master gazed at the pages in front of him. One chance. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t have to like it. “After this is all over, can you use her? Do we bring her in?”

“Oh,” the Archivist sighed. “I can sure use her. The woman’s a genius. Be a pity to lose her. Give her a new face and the Kruger can use her right away in acquisitions, going around adding to our collection. She doesn’t need a public resume to do that.”

“Can we bring her into the Order? Maybe not right away, but a year? Two?”

The Archivist tugged at an earlobe. “That I’m not sure about. You’d have to talk to Marie Curtis. She’s closest to her. But I’ll tell you one thing, I doubt we could keep her in the dark about the Templars even if she worked in the public sections of the Kruger. She’s just too sharp, and too good a historian. Doesn’t miss a thing. And with this treaty, she’d be on the lookout. And if the plan works, she’ll obviously know what happened.”

The Master nodded. “Well, we take her in as a Kruger employee or as a Templar, or we get rid of her. There’s no alternative now.”

“I know. I know. Pity.”

“Ok.” The Master gathered up the pages on his desk and handed them to the Archivist. “You keep all this. I don’t want anything hanging around here. And you make the call here. When you’re ready, when it’s done to your satisfaction, then let the rest of us know and we’ll start the operation.”

 

Vatican - Friday, April 24

The Pope scanned the four faces in front of him. “First question. Does anybody know anything, anything at all, about the Treaty of Tuscany?”

Santini, head of the Vatican Library, looked at Agretti. Santini was white-faced and jittery. He couldn’t keep his hands still and kept licking his lips. Damn, he’s going to break, thought Agretti. He isn’t strong enough to protect the Church from this Mexican.

“Yes, Holiness. I have something… something I must…”

“Yes,” interrupted Agretti, “Bishop Santini is too modest himself, but I must commend him for the immediate response he and his people organized.”

Agretti drilled his eyes into Santini and Santini looked down at the table. “Yes, Yes…” Santini managed. “Our… our… our people are all doing whatever they can.” Agretti was holding his breath and gently released it. Had the crisis passed? Would Santini hold?

The Pope looked at Santini. “Any of your people find anything?”

“Nothing, Holiness.” No turning back, thought Santini. Now I’m doomed.

That had to be the Holy Spirit at work, thought Agretti, stepping in and preventing Santini from ruining everything. But he had to do something. If the Pope ever got Santini alone, he was sure to break.

The Pope looked around the table and the others shook their heads.

“Ok. So why don’t we just challenge this Al Dossary to produce the treaty, submit it to expert testing, and see what he has?”

“It’s a risk,” said Cardinal Cortese, head of the Congregation of Faith. “But maybe a risk worth taking.”

“What’s the risk?” the Pope asked.

“Suppose it’s authentic, right out of the Twelfth Century. And it really did come from that parking lot excavation below us?”

Bishop Gustuv, dean of the theology department of the Pontifical College stirred.

“Bishop?” The Pope spread his hands.

“If the technical analysis dates to the Twelfth Century, then the content becomes paramount. Suppose it does call for the elimination of Islam, and suppose the formulation meets the standards for infallibility? That leaves only two options.

 “First, God really wants Muslims eliminated, or second, two Popes infallibly said he did and are wrong. Neither is something I relish.”

“How can you say that?” interrupted Agretti. “It’s impossible for it to be authentic and say God wants Islam eliminated. The doctrine of infallibility prohibits the Pope from teaching an untruth in this matter. It just can’t be.”

“Perhaps, perhaps,” answered the theologian, “but it would be imprudent to ignore the possibility.”

“Possibility? There is no possibility,” said Agretti.

“Then you would have no problem calling Al Dossary’s bluff, Alberto?” asked the Pope. “Put up or shut up?”

Agretti swallowed hard. “None at all, Holiness. It’s impossible. Anything that passed the technical tests, and said that, would have to be a hoax. That would prove it was a hoax.” Agretti glanced at Santini, who was looking hard at his yellow pad of paper. “It could never have come from the Vatican, no matter how good it looked. If it came from here, we would have known about it. Right, Bishop Santini?”

“Yes, yes, uh, I’m sure we would have a record of it somewhere.”

Cortese peered over his glasses at Agretti. “And if it is a hoax, as you say, Alberto, and if it passes all the tests anyway, meaning it is a very good hoax, what then?”

“At that point, we are assured the Holy Spirit will guide us.”

“Well, I hope so,” said the Pope, “but in my experience the Holy Spirit is a pretty hands-off manager. Ok. Let’s call Al Dossary’s bluff. Alberto, have your guy say we want to see the treaty. Hit it hard. Blood and guts. We deny it exists. Nobody knows anything about it. Put up or shut up. No more defense. Say Al Dossary is a fraud. No point going half-way.”

The theologian raised a hand. “A question, Holiness. With respect. A purely hypothetical question.”

The Pope nodded. This Gustuv was smart.

“Suppose you had the treaty, and you were convinced it was real, that it actually was the product of those two Popes and three kings. And further suppose it was in a formula that met the standard of infallibility. In that hypothetical, Holiness, what would you do?”

“You don’t ask easy questions, do you?” The Pope steepled his fingers and looked around the room. “If I were convinced, as you say, to tell you the truth, I would be inclined to dismiss the doctrine of infallibility as a well-intentioned mistake. In other words, we should rescind the teaching and abandon the notion of infallibility. Throw the whole thing out the window.”

“You would say Pope Pius and the Council were wrong in 1870 to define the doctrine?”

“Yes.”

“How could the Pope be wrong on a matter of faith and morals?”

The Pope shrugged. ”I guess he’s not infallible. I sure don’t feel infallible. Let me clue you gentlemen into a secret.” He leaned both elbows on the table.  “I don’t feel any different than I did last month back in Mexico City. No wiser, no stronger, no great insights, no sudden flashes of wisdom. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. I feel like the same old Pedro Sanchez, the kid from Juarez. I’m beginning to get the idea a lot of this pomp and ceremony around here is designed to make the Pope think he really is different. A big Kabuki dance.  Sorry to disappoint.”

I was right, thought Agretti. He has no faith. And now, what do I do about Santini? He has faith, but it’s not strong enough for what has to be done.

 

Vatican - Friday, April 24

When the Pope dismissed the meeting, Agretti lingered near the table until Santini gathered his things and slouched out of the office. The man was carrying the weight of the world on his bent back. Well, maybe just the weight of that treaty, thought Agretti.

Agretti caught up to him outside the Pope’s door and said, “Maybe we can have a word, Bishop?”

Bishop Santini sighed and nodded his head. “Yes, yes. I think that might be a good idea.”

Neither man spoke as they walked through the long, tiled Hall of Bramante connecting the papal quarters with the Vatican Library and Museum.

“It’s not easy, is it, my friend?” asked Agretti.

Friend? My friend? Now he is suddenly my friend. “No, not at all,” answered Santini. “I have deep misgivings about this whole thing, and have prayed a great deal about it. I just can’t see how deceiving the Pope like we are… like I am, is the proper thing to do.  Surely the Holy Spirit would guide the Pope through this as he has in the past.”

Agretti slowed their progress to a gentle stroll. “Let me ask you this, Bishop. If the Pope believed the treaty was real, that it had actually been created by two Popes in the Twelfth Century, what do you think he would do? Not just any Pope, but this Pope?”

Santini gave a bitter snort and looked sideways at Agretti. “You heard him in there. He’ll do exactly what he said he would do. He would repudiate the whole idea of Papal Infallibility. He’d reverse the 1870 First Vatican Council.”

“And what do you think of that?” asked Agretti. This was the key question that separated the defenders of the Church from those who would let it drift into secular decay.

“You and I both know the arguments for and against Papal Infallibility. It’s all been debated over and over for many years. But I suppose the Church did quite well for 1,870 years without a formal doctrine, and I believe the Holy Spirit would guide it even if it dropped the doctrine.”

Agretti forced himself to remain the calm diplomat. “You have a suggestion, perhaps?”

Santini stopped and faced Agretti in the middle of the Hall. “I think we should go to the Holy Father and tell him the truth, all the truth, ask for his forgiveness, and accept whatever fate he chooses for us.  When he asks a direct question, how can we deceive him in good conscience? How can that in any way further the interests of the Church?”

There it was, thought Agretti, another weak, spineless coward without the strength to fight for the Church. He made his decision. He had no choice now.

“You may not believe this, Santini,” Agretti said sadly, “but I, too, have spent hours in prayer over this, and I think I have to accept responsibility here. After all, I was the one who ordered you to conceal the facts about the treaty from the Holy Father. Yes, that is on my conscience.”

 “You didn’t have a gun at my head,” said Santini.  “I let personal ambition triumph over my duty. I have absolutely no problem keeping the treaty secret from the world. In fact, I see that as my sacred duty to the Church. But concealing the information from the Holy Father is a grave mistake.”

Agretti felt the conviction in Santini’s voice, and said, “Would you go with me to see the Holy Father, to explain what we did, why we did it, and beg his forgiveness? Is that something you would do with me?”

“I think that may be the answer to my prayers, Cardinal.” Santini nodded his head. “Yes, that is the only course available to us if we are to remain true to the Church.”

Stay on course, Agretti told himself, just stay on course. “Perhaps you could grant me a small request before we see the Holy Father, Bishop.”

“Yes?”

“Could you just walk me through the library and point out where the different events occurred, so I have a better understanding? Where you were tied? Where the treaty was stored? Where the medallions were? Just,” he shrugged and turned his chubby palms up, “just to satisfy curiosity and fill me in on all the details.” He paused and shook his head. “We have a lot to make up for, and I guess the more I know, the better I feel I can do that.”

For Santini, the weight was lifting from his shoulders. He knew prayer would be the answer. “Sure. I can give you a first-class tour.” Santini laughed for the first time in days. “I can take you where it all happened. Somehow it still doesn’t seem real.” He looked at his wristwatch. “But we can’t do it now. The library is full of people. Could you come by tonight? Say a little after ten? Everybody will be gone by then.”

Now Agretti’s prayers were being answered. “Ten would be fine. And we don’t want anyone else around. That can’t do any good.”

“Yes, yes. I understand.”

Agretti rubbed his chin. “How about if I come by the door down here,” he pointed ahead of them, “the door on the third floor here that connects to the library? Can you let me in there?”

“Yes, of course. That way we can keep away from those cameras Mr. Callahan is so fond of.”

“Ok. I’ll see you at ten, then. We’re doing the right thing here, Santini. Maybe we’re a bit late, but it’s the right thing.”

Agretti turned around and went back the way they had come, while Santini continued on to the library.

 

*     *     *

At 9:30 pm Agretti rose from his knees in his small Vatican apartment and felt the strength of the Holy Spirit flowing through his body. The Lord was with him.

He found a pair of heavy woolen socks he wore on the cold nights, and stuffed one inside the other so they formed a single, double layered sock. Then he took a heavy glass snow globe from his bookshelf, shook it, and watched the snow falling over a small church in the mountains. He had purchased the globe many years ago on a summer holiday in the Italian Alps. “Cervinia,” said the nameplate at the bottom of the globe.

He shook it again, smiled sadly, and stuffed it into the bottom of the sock. He grabbed the open end of the sock and gently swung the globe, whacking it into his other palm with a heavy and satisfying thud.

His briefcase on the coffee table was the type that opened at the top, rather than with a hinged lid, and he carefully lowered the sock into the case, stuffing the open end of the sock into a small pocket near the top.

 

*     *     *

At 10:02 pm, Santini opened the third-floor library door that connected to the Hall of Bramante, and ushered Agretti into the library.

“Sorry this is so late,” said Agretti. “I hope it doesn’t take long.”

“No problem at all, Cardinal.”

“Is this the floor where the treaty was kept?” asked Agretti.

“No,” said Santini. “That’s room H21, second floor, down one flight. Shall we take a look?”

“Certainly. Please,” Agretti extended his arm down the stairs, “lead the way.”

When Santini turned down the stairs, Agretti reached into his unfastened briefcase with his right hand and firmly gripped the top of the woolen sock. Santini was carefully picking his way down the middle of the marble, looking down and in front of him as he went. Santini was a good man. Agretti pulled out the sock, let it gently arc back behind him, and swung it forward with all his strength, smashing straight into the side of Santini’s head. It sounded like a rock falling on bare ground, thought Agretti.

Santini pitched sideways and forward, immediately unconscious, his forehead smashing into the hard marble of the steps. His long body folded over his head, wrenched the neck at an impossible angle, and tumbled down the steps until his head hit the landing with another dull whack.

Agretti hurried down the stairs with the sock still in his hand, and bent over Santini. He detected no breathing, the head was bent up and sideways, and the blue eyes were open and unfocused.  A pool of blood had gathered under Santini’s head on the landing, but there was nothing on the steps. He looked at the sock, inspecting it for blood, and found nothing. His hands… the cuffs of his shirt… shoes… cassock… all clean. Clean, very clean, thought Agretti.

Then he knelt next to the body and said some quick prayers, reached to shut the eyes, but stopped himself. Were the eyes normally open or closed after such a blow to the head? Better to leave everything as it is. Agretti trusted Santini was now enjoying his eternal reward with God.

He untied one of Santini’s shoelaces, and dangled the lace off the side of the dead foot. He knew Santini now realized he had no choice.

He went back up the steps, took a plastic bag from his briefcase and dropped the sock with the snow globe into it.  Then he packed it into his briefcase, and backed out of the door into the Hall of Bramante. He saw nobody as he bustled through the corridors to his own office, made a call to the Papal Legate in Washington about the Americans’ opposition to a UN resolution, and went back to his apartment.

Murder. Alberto Agretti had just killed a good man. That was murder. Or was it? He did it in service to the Church because there was nobody else with the strength to defend the Church. It must be protected from attacks from both outside and inside. The outside attacks can always be handled. It’s the rot from the inside, from this Mexican Pope, that posed the real danger. He can’t learn about the treaty. Now Agretti was the only one in the Vatican who knew the treaty had come from the Vatican Library and was authentic. The secret was safe. He would do his duty. He was a warrior.

God would forgive him, he knew. He was doing God’s work. And now that Santini had the true clarity of the beatific vision, he would also forgive him.

When he was safely behind his own door, he took the plastic bag with the sock and snow globe to his small sink, thoroughly washed the socks, soaked them in bleach, and put the snow globe back on his shelf. Then he picked it up again, shook it once, and watched the snow settle on the peaceful Alpine church. He put the globe down and dropped to his knees before a crucifix, thanking God for giving him the strength to do his work.

 

*     *     *

Rosa Molini pushed her cleaning cart out of the elevator on the third floor of the Vatican Library and tuned her radio to her favorite station. The clipboard on the cart said vacuuming of the hallway was scheduled, so she turned the radio higher and started the vacuum from the far end of the hall.

When she reached the halfway point, where the marble stairway went down to the basement, she glanced down the stairs, then back to the carpet in front of her. What was that on the next landing? She looked back and saw a figure cloaked in black crumpled at the foot of the stairs.

She ran to Santini, straightened him out, listened for breathing, hollered for help, slipped in the blood, and fell across the body. Remembering her CPR training from long ago, she gave him one breath followed by five heart massages. One and five. One and five until Vatican emergency services people arrived.

 

*     *     *

 “What’s it look like?” Carlos asked.

“What it looks like,” sighed Mancini, pointing up the staircase, “is Bishop Santini tripped on his shoelace and fell down twenty-two marble steps, smashing his head all the way down and breaking his neck on the way.”

“Any sign of foul play?” Carlos stopped. “Did I really say ‘foul play?’”

“There’s nothing to indicate that. And the cleaning woman messed everything up doing CPR on Santini.”

“The Vatican physician says it’s an accident. You agree? You have to sign off.”

Mancini knew what Callahan and Marie had learned about the Treaty of Tuscany at the Vatican Library, and he called the Marshall in Zurich as soon as he learned of Santini’s death. The Marshall said they didn’t need a murder connected with the treaty and instructed him to make it an accident. Actually, he didn’t need to do anything. The whole situation screamed accident.

“How’s it look to you, Carlos?”

“Looks like an accident to me.”

When both Templars and the Pope wanted an accident, that made life easy.

“Looks like an accident to me. Too bad. I kind of liked him.”

Mancini motioned to the paramedics and they loaded the body onto a stretcher and started down the stairs.

Rosa Molini looked over at Mancini and asked, “Can I clean up? The bishop always insisted everything must be clean in the library.”

Mancini nodded. “Yes, Rosa. I think he’d like you to clean up.”