The Templar Agenda Page 12

  Moments later Cardinal Tepilo ascended to his feet, followed by all present. He led them in the sign of the cross before returning to their seats. There were no handshakes or pleasantries. The first topic on the agenda would be obvious: the Vatican Bank was in crisis. A cardinal had been found dead within the last two months and a key banker had been killed within the last three weeks leaving a key Vatican asset without a chief executive.

  Cardinal Tepilo spoke for the first time. ‘The Archbishop of Santiago de Compostela, Cardinal Torres, is presently in Madrid and sends his apologies for not being present this evening.’

  Rogero nodded. Three of them were missing in total. Rogero’s close friend, Juan Pablo Dominguez, the Vice President of the supervisory committee was absent, while the Archbishop of São Paulo, Alberto Atri, due to replace the recently deceased Cardinal Patricio Faukes had failed to return in time from Brazil.

  Utaka spoke quietly. ‘As you are all undoubtedly aware, a series of murders have taken place in recent weeks and this has led to a series of speculation. I feel it only right to inform you what is known. The Vatican Police have recently uncovered evidence that the people who killed Mr. Leoni are also responsible for the death of Cardinal Faukes, and perhaps many others. As yet they have no evidence regarding the actual killers.’

  A bitter silence descended on the room. No one looked particularly surprised.

  ‘The Vatican Police have a talent for telling us what we already know, eminence,’ Lewis said.

  Cardinal Utaka did not respond straightaway. He looked briefly at Lewis before eyeing the other members of the council.

  ‘The Vatican Police and the American FBI believe that the attacks on Mr. Leoni and Mr. Llewellyn were carefully coordinated,’ the cardinal said. ‘They both occurred when they were about to leave their offices and both are thought to have been alone. The American FBI and the police force of St. Gallen have identified that both men were shot by similar weapons although we are unsure as yet who is responsible. In the meantime, let us move on to banking issues.’

  Irving Swanson spoke for the first time.

  ‘Now, eminence, president,’ Swanson said in his typically spirited tone of voice, ‘in the light of recent events, might I suggest we begin by clarifying the position of chief executive at Leoni et Cie?’

  Rogero nodded. ‘Such matters are indeed most important, Mr. Swanson. But let us not forget, no decision can be made without the agreement of the majority shareholder.’

  Cardinal Tepilo sat up slightly. ‘Angelo, I have spoken with my niece. She has agreed with a sad, sad heart that the appointment of her father’s replacement should be made by the Vatican Bank.’

  A strange silence engulfed the room.

  ‘This is good news, eminence,’ Rogero said, cupping his hands together. ‘Very well, let us then proceed to the matter at hand. Suggestion for candidates to become the new chief executive of Leoni et Cie can now commence.’

  ‘Now, president, eminences, looking at the present structure in place at Leoni et Cie worldwide, personally I have my doubts as to whether any members of the current staff are up to taking on the mantle. If the council is looking for a temporary replacement I would be more than willing to take on the responsibility, at least until such a time that a more permanent appointment can be made,’ Irving Swanson said.

  Cardinal Utaka nodded but Tepilo shook his head. ‘Thank you, Mr. Swanson, your offer is most welcome. However, having spoken with my niece she is most happy for Mr. Riva to work alongside Mr. de Bois with the running of Leoni et Cie.’

  Lewis looked at the Camerlengo with surprise. ‘I was unaware such an appointment had been verified.’

  Silence filled the room.

  ‘I trust that is no bother, Randy?’ Cardinal del Rosi asked.

  ‘No bother, eminence, just a bit…unusual…wouldn’t you agree?’

  ‘This situation is unusual.’

  Lewis eyed the cardinal closely. ‘Speaking for myself I’d have thought Irve was the obvious choice.’

  ‘With all respect, certain members of the management team were unsure Mr. Swanson had the experience necessary,’ Cardinal Tepilo said. ‘Without question, Mr. Swanson’s past record is truly inspiring, but Leoni et Cie are traditionally private deposit bankers, not investment.’

  Lewis shook his head. ‘These days there’s very little difference.’

  Swanson eyed the Camerlengo with an irritated expression. He loosened his collar with his right hand and grimaced slightly.

  Cardinal Tepilo turned to Rogero. ‘If it is experience you are looking for, my personal belief is that Giancarlo is most well qualified. He has many years experience managing banks of this nature and has acted as adviser to the bank for over ten years. As a director of Leoni et Cie I have worked alongside him first hand and will continue to do so.’

  Riva smiled gratefully. ‘Thank you, eminence. If the council is in agreement I should be most happy to take up the role until a more permanent solution is found.’

  Rogero sucked on a biro as if it were a cigarette. ‘All in favour of Mr. Riva’s appointment as temporary chief executive of Leoni et Cie?’

  The hands of Cardinal del Rosi and Cardinal Tepilo rose. Riva nodded, his expression remaining unaltered.

  Rogero: ‘Not quite a majority.’

  ‘Cardinals Atri and Torres both offered their support for Giancarlo,’ Cardinal Tepilo said. ‘My niece, Gabrielle, also.’

  Rogero looked inquisitively at the Camerlengo. ‘It is a shame that none of them are present to pass on their support in person.’

  Lewis smiled, shaking his head simultaneously.

  ‘If you would like to contact the Camerlengo’s niece, Angelo, I am sure she would be very happy to speak with you,’ del Rosi said.

  Rogero leaned back in his seat, eyeing each member of the council in turn. ‘Very well. Mr. Riva shall take up his duties as the new chief executive of Leoni et Cie until such a time that a more permanent appointment can be made.’

  Riva nodded. ‘Thank you, eminence. Now, Mr. President, members of the council, may I also take this opportunity to suggest that the Vatican Bank considers increasing its shareholdings in Leoni et Cie.’

  A strange silence engulfed the room, broken by Randy Lewis. ‘You want to increase our stake?’

  Riva: ‘I realise such action may seem unwise at such unsteady times, but I feel the thought is worthy of adequate consideration. After all, it seems likely that Ms. Leoni has little intention of continuing the work of her father.’

  ‘Angelo, I do not feel comfortable discussing action that abuses the trust of the majority shareholder after it was her own good grace that allowed us to have this meeting. The recent fluctuation in share price has only occurred as a result of present turmoil. Let us not forget her father was a loyal ally of the Vatican and Gabrielle Leoni is in no fit state to negotiate,’ Utaka said.

  Rogero nodded. ‘I agree.’

  Riva shook his head. ‘I apologise, eminence, if my comments appear insensitive, but we must consider the reality of our situation. It seems to me significantly unlikely that Ms. Leoni will want to maintain such a high stake. Without question, Leoni et Cie has been a good investment for the Vatican Bank. A strong move at such an uncertain time could help capitalise on the temporary turbulence and lead to significant long-term growth.’

  Rogero: ‘I sometimes wonder, Mr. Riva, if your reputation was built on careful decisions or flippant fortune. To me, you are the foolish man who built your house upon sand.’

  Randy Lewis looked up in amusement. Rarely did a meeting end without a run-in between these two: although it usually happened far later in the proceedings.

  Tepilo: ‘Giancarlo, I am sure, has no intention of taking advantage of a grieving daughter at a time of mourning, Angelo, but let us consider the situation from a different point of view. Should my niece decide to sell, perhaps it is in the interests of the Vatican Bank to increase its stake, rather than allow it to be bought by a third party.
It seems likely, after all, that Mr. Gilbert de Bois will be thinking the same thing.’

  Rogero sucked his pen.

  ‘President, if it’s all the same to you, frankly I would be somewhat reluctant to recommend the Vatican Bank continue to hold stake in Leoni et Cie if Mr. de Bois was to increase his present shareholdings, or for that matter in any other company that he should hold a majority presence,’ Swanson said.

  ‘A strange thing to say of a former colleague,’ del Rosi said.

  ‘Not really, eminence,’ Swanson said, ‘after all, was it not former Chairman of the Federal Reserve, Mr. Lewis, who once ordered an investigation into Mr. de Bois’s dealings at Starvel due to concerns of his.’

  Cardinal Utaka’s ears pricked. He remembered vividly how accusations of mismanagement at Starvel throughout the 1990s had created such a scandal. What’s more, he remembered the Banco Ambrosiano fiasco.

  Cardinal Utaka sought to speak but Lewis beat him to it. ‘President, it is true that back in ’99 I was somewhat dubious of a bank in which both Mr. Swanson and Mr. de Bois were directors and their activities abroad…’

  ‘Starvel and Leoni et Cie are not the same bank, Angelo. If there had been any truth in these allegations Mr. Swanson himself would not have been here for the past six years,’ Cardinal Tepilo said. ‘Nor, I am sure, Mr. de Bois as chairman of Leoni et Cie.’

  Rogero nodded.

  ‘I certainly agree with that,’ Lewis said.

  ‘Frankly I am also somewhat concerned of your disaffection for Mr. de Bois,’ Cardinal del Rosi said. ‘It may, how you say, cloud your very sound judgment.’

  Soft laughter filled the room.

  ‘The reason for the investigation, president, was down to the activities of the bank, not specific individuals,’ Lewis said with his arms folded.

  ‘That may indeed be so. However, I am also dubious that a man who was once accused of such fraud may be in control of significant Vatican funds,’ Cardinal del Rosi said. ‘I would also sooner see increased Vatican control in what is otherwise a most sound investment.’

  Rogero cracked his knuckles, his eyes focused on Riva. ‘Mr. Riva, your suggestion that the majority shareholder is looking to offload her shares seems to me to be invalid speculation. Do you have any foundation for your speculations?’

  Cardinal Tepilo beat Riva to a response. ‘Angelo, at such times my niece has much to consider. But my own feelings tell me that Leoni et Cie is a part of her life that sadly died with her father. Let us be clear, gentlemen, these are tough, uncertain times. But let us also not forget, my own family history aside, Leoni et Cie has been a valuable asset for the Vatican and can continue to be so, both now and in the future. Until we know of my niece’s intentions perhaps it would be unwise to linger on the subject.’

  ‘It would be equally foolish to let such a rare opportunity pass,’ del Rosi said.

  Lewis: ‘In the situation at present, such activities cannot arise until they are approved by various committees.’

  All present nodded.

  ‘Very well,’ President Rogero agreed. ‘Let us now concentrate for a time on the here and now. If Ms. Leoni does decide to sell her shares then we shall meet with her and discuss whether the Vatican Bank will increase its interest up to a point of an overall majority. The Vatican has never banked publicly before, but until 1999 few had. The wind is changing, and the Vatican may need to blow too.’

  ‘Just so long as it is made clear, president,’ Lewis said, ‘regardless of Leoni et Cie’s past performance, any future success would require a new chief executive being of the calibre of Al Leoni. We, the Vatican bankers, have never acted as more than advisers.’

  ‘And that, Mr. Lewis, can still happen,’ Riva said.

  ‘Perhaps you would like the job,’ Swanson said, leaning over to Lewis.

  Lewis folded his arms and smiled with sarcasm. ‘Irve, you know what your problem is? You’re a saint.’

  In a quiet area near the Porta Angelica, the head of the Vatican Police spoke quietly with the driver of a black Mercedes. Within seconds the car was gone, heading north.

  It was approaching midnight when the blue hatchback driven by Mark made the turn off heading towards Zürich. He was tired but the hot coffee contained within the polythene cup placed in the cup holder was beginning to kick in. He still had a long drive ahead of him.

  Ever since he joined the Vatican Police his duties had been befitting someone in the secret service or even someone working for Britain’s MI6. He was used to following orders when he was a soldier, but his current role was more what he had signed up for. He despised the long journeys behind the wheel on the lifeless roads but he always wanted to work in intelligence. Stan often joked he had none to work with. If only he could see him now.

  He had been driving for over five hours. The City of Milan was glowing brightly in his rear-view mirror, the lighted windows of its famous buildings distorted by moderate rain. Up ahead was almost total darkness, the blackness of the unlit road disturbed only by occasional traffic heading in the opposite direction. He would soon be passing into Switzerland. It had been his intention to finish the journey that night but fatigue was setting in. He would stop somewhere en route and finish the journey to Zürich tomorrow. At least that would give him ample opportunity to consider his new leads.

  These leads were in the form of several documents contained in two large boxes that currently resided on the passenger seat. Both Commissario Pessotto and Thierry de Courten knew what was in them but Mark was still to examine them himself. There were nearly fifty files in each box, all of which were potentially of relevance to the murders, or at least the best information available according to Thierry.

  Truth be told, Mark did not know much about the Rite of Larmenius. He had heard whispers, but nothing concrete. Stan had told him that they were the most powerful secret society in Europe and America and in the past they had had possible links with the KGB. Their members were supposedly primarily wealthy businessmen who may or may not have used the society as a medium to accomplish political or personal aspirations, but either way this was still to be confirmed. The Rite of Larmenius he thought to himself. Where do they come up with these names?

  First of all he needed to confirm that Al Leoni was dead, despite the fact that he had attended the funeral. No, he had to trace the bullet and, if possible, the possessions he carried the night he died: at least the few that remained. He had to talk to strangers, check that he left alone, all the duties of a good cop.

  There had been many dead ends over the past two months. He had a feeling this would not be the last.

  12

  The door of the 18th century library had not been opened for a long time. Gabrielle herself had been the last to use it nearly two years earlier. The slow disturbing creak of the opening door, lasting several seconds before coming to an abrupt silence, unnerved her slightly as it turned on its hinges presenting a depressing room lacking fresh air and light. From the doorway the inside looked abandoned: cobwebs covered the ceiling and twelve rows of old texts lined the bookcases, many of which were coated in dust. It was the ideal location for a horror film.

  She entered the room slowly, leaving the door open to allow light to enter from the corridor as she searched for the nearest light switch. The light failed to respond when she pressed it, unclear whether a bulb was absent from the dated lampshade in the middle of the ceiling or whether it had simply failed through lack of use.

  She inhaled deeply. The oppressive air felt unpleasant on her lungs and an overwhelming stench of dust dominated her nostrils. In the poor light she attempted to focus on her surroundings. She removed a torch from her pocket and shone it directly in front of her. Across the room, heavy velvet curtains were closed, unsurprising given the lack of use. Even when they were open she recalled this was always the darkest room in the mansion, and for that reason she always disliked it.

  Guided by the light of the torch, she walked slowly towards the nearest window. She
stopped as she neared it and pulled on a large rope. Sunlight pierced through the gaps, shining on long unused bookcases and creating distorted shadows that further unsettled her already troubled frame of mind. Inhaling, she shone the torch in the vicinity of an antique desk and walked towards it, turning on the desk lamp. The low 40-watt bulb lit up the vicinity, identifying another long rope attached to the nearest curtain. She walked towards it slowly and pulled it. The curtain squeaked slightly as it parted and light shone through, identifying a large gathering of dust motes floating in the sunlight.

  She turned her attention to the shelves of books, now visible. Most of what was there was left to her. This was no major shock. Her mother had no use for them. Her uncle made use of most when he was there but he was still abroad.

  There was a certain text she wanted: one that she believed might offer some insight into her new discovery. She walked along the various shelves pointing her torch at the books as she passed, attempting to ignore the incessant creaking of the wooden floorboards. Most of the books were library bound, identical in size and colour and smelled typically 19th century. After passing the fourth row of books, she stopped. She pointed the torch at one row in particular and studied the titles one at a time. The books were stacked by subject, and alphabetically by author.

  She was in the history section.

  She knelt down on one knee and began to examine the books on the bottom shelf, failing to avoid dirtying her blue jeans. All of the names were European, and most of them were unrecognisable to her. Most of the books were originals and some of them exceedingly valuable. Her uncle often boasted that they had the greatest collection of rare books and manuscripts in Europe.

  She identified a heavy text and looked carefully at the title. After realising it was not the one she wanted, she moved onto the next row: the first of five rows of a medieval European History sub-section. On first inspection this section was dustier and dirtier than the previous batch. It looked as if it had not been used in two centuries, let alone two years.