The Templar Agenda Read online

  Torres: ‘Such assurances aside, the future of the bank is something that cannot be left to chance. Since the 1980s the strategies of the Vatican Bank have succeeded on careful investment and in this way our past and that of the original Banque Leoni have much in common. Investments in retail have brought assets of significant worth over several decades of steady worldwide growth; investments in currency have been hit and miss with an overall emphasis on the hit; decision to invest in foreign companies have often been rewarded, but even then we have determined to invest in companies of reputation. But nothing has been so effective as the client-friendly, hedging and arbitrage strategy of Leoni et Cie. The banks of St. Gallen have long succeeded on catering for low numbers of clients with deposits of over a million Swiss Francs. In your time alone this has already fallen. Why should we change a winning formula?’

  De Bois forced a smile. ‘Gentlemen, you are smart people. And being smart people you don’t need me to tell you that there is no such thing as risk. Every business faces risk. The profitable banks, they face risk,’ he said with his hands out wide. ‘But risk is not a barrier – it is an obstacle to be overcome. The past success of Rosco and Leoni et Cie came from not just a strong client base, but identifying opportunities and profiting from them, and avoiding those that are not. If the proposals I have put before you are implemented effectively then not only can we achieve increased profits for the bank, but also provide a much needed boost to areas where average incomes are low and mortality rates are high. And that, gentlemen, after all, is the purpose of the Vatican Bank, is it not?’

  De Bois looked around the table. The poker faces were keeping their cards close to the table.

  Utaka: ‘Bearing in mind that the Vatican Bank has recently acquired an additional 31% ownership in Leoni et Cie, and also bearing in mind that Ms. Leoni and her family have been the majority shareholder for so long, it is at our discretion to identify the best way forward.’

  Rogero shook his head. ‘You claim to be a man of morals, Mr. de Bois, but you are far too reckless in your assumptions. Speculating on futures must be closely monitored and be balanced by less risky investments. And while it is true that the Vatican, and Leoni et Cie, has at times benefited from investing in traditionally poorer regions, such matters cannot be taken lightly. The Vatican Bank exists on low risk ventures that satisfy our needs over time and that I am not prepared to gamble.’

  ‘I would also wish for strict guarantees from Mr. de Bois,’ Torres said, ‘that should his proposals be implemented that he would not as time goes by allow any desire for personal gain to affect his judgment.’

  Riva: ‘Eminence, we are all professionals. We do not need every activity to be placed under some kind of surveillance.’

  Rogero: ‘You speak of trust, Mr. Riva, but we cannot stray from who we are. We are all religious men, not immune to threats coming from a higher power. If some unlucky circumstance should cause Leoni et Cie to lose its hard earned gains, or profit from the hardship of others by investing in companies whose desire for greed is greater than their respect for human rights, then I would see it as a clear sign that God is personally laying the blame at the people in this room. I know from the Vatican’s good relations with the old regime at Leoni et Cie that Mr. Leoni and Ms. Leoni only ever had our best interests at heart, whereas you, Mr. de Bois, are still to earn this trust. Your background is very impressive and your desire for charity is warming, but your strategy is not without flaws. Therefore I feel that while speculations in oil and currency can occur up to a point, and increased investing and the establishment of new branches is essential for future growth, we must keep them under strict observation. And for that reason, I feel that we are unable to support your proposals in full. And taking into account that a change in ownership has now been established, I must move for you to be removed from your position as Chairman of Leoni et Cie and from now be assigned the role of deputy chairman, as appropriate for your level of investment in the bank.’

  Silence filled the room. No one seemed to object.

  De Bois maintained eye contact with Rogero for several seconds. He eyed the faces of everyone present slowly, before looking up at the visions of God’s earthly paradise above him.

  ‘If that is the will of the council, then so be it.’

  All present nodded. A smile crossed Swanson’s face.

  Rogero exhaled loudly. ‘Perhaps now we can move on and open the floor for suggestions for a permanent chief executive of Leoni et Cie.’

  Riva: ‘Mr. President, if it pleases the council, I would be most pleased to continue with the role I have recently been undertaking.’

  Rogero bit his lip, a rare sign of irritation. ‘Any objections?’

  There were no objections, but a few unsatisfied expressions.

  ‘Any other nominations?’

  Swanson: ‘President, I would be more than happy to participate in some capacity in the running of Leoni et Cie. However, if you want my personal opinion, then the best candidate and the most qualified would be Mr. Lewis.’

  Lewis forced a brief smile.

  Rogero put a pen to his lips. ‘All in favour of Mr. Riva continuing with his duties as chief executive of Leoni et Cie?’

  Cardinals Torres, del Rosi and Gilbert de Bois all raised their hands. Riva nodded.

  Rogero: ‘All in favour of Mr. Lewis?’

  Rogero, Dominguez, Swanson, Utaka, Atri, and Gabrielle all placed their hands up. Rogero removed the pen from his mouth.

  ‘In that case, I propose that Mr. Lewis takes up the position on behalf of the Vatican Bank.’ He looked at Lewis. ‘Mr. Lewis, do you accept?’

  Lewis looked at Rogero, giving little or nothing away. Finally he nodded.

  Del Rosi: ‘Angelo, personally I feel that it would be wise to have at least one cardinal on the board.’

  ‘Cardinal Tepilo is still a director for Leoni et Cie,’ Gabrielle suggested.

  Rogero nodded. ‘Very well, his experience of your bank as a member of your family would undoubtedly be a valuable asset. Perhaps he would agree to take up the position of chairman.’

  Gabrielle nodded, clearly approving.

  ‘Very well,’ Rogero said, ‘Cardinal Tepilo shall remain as a director for Leoni et Cie and, should he agree with the outcome of today’s meeting, take up the role of chairman. That concludes our business for today. May the peace of the Lord be with you all.’

  Every member stood in unison and the pleasantries resumed: hands were shaken, the rings of the cardinals were kissed, and both of Gabrielle’s cheeks were kissed by de Bois, a little awkwardly for her liking. She shook hands gently with Cardinal Torres, and kissed Rogero and Dominguez, far more bearable. She shook hands briefly with Atri and Swanson as she passed and walked towards Cardinal Utaka.

  ‘May I have a moment?’

  The cardinal ascended to his feet and looked at Gabrielle with interest. Judging by her facial expression and the tone of her voice he decided it was of importance. He tucked his chair under the table and guided her to a seat at the side of the chapel.

  Around the table, the bankers assembled their belongings quickly and exited in small gatherings. The Swiss Guards on temporary duty for the meeting, taking the place of the usual museum guards, saluted as they opened the doors and allowed them access to the corridors. Gabrielle smiled at the departing council, and said goodbyes to no one in particular. De Bois passed them as he exited. He kissed Gabrielle once more and kissed the cardinal as well. Utaka shook his head.

  The final members departed and the doors were closed behind them. A pleasant hush descended on the chapel, out of keeping with the atmosphere of recent hours. This was how she remembered the chapel. It had a pleasant ambience, one in keeping with a location of holy importance.

  Now alone, she started to relax. She exhaled a few times deeply and raised her eyes to make eye contact with the cardinal. He smiled warmly at her.

  Besides her great-uncle, Cardinal Utaka was her favourite cardinal. Leoni et
Cie’s financial affinity with the Church dated back to the early 1990s and the friendship between them had lasted most of her life. A strange sense of mischievous happiness overcame them, followed by a fit of giggling that lasted several seconds. Utaka laughed aloud, perhaps for the first time in weeks.

  ‘Well. A day well spent,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sure the appointment of Mr. Lewis is good for the Vatican.’

  He nodded. ‘Both he and your great-uncle have our interest at heart. I personally find Randy to be most agreeable.’

  Gabrielle forced a smile. ‘My dad always spoke highly of Mr. Lewis.’

  The cardinal nodded. He paused momentarily, not an awkward pause but an act of calm concentration: a chance to digest the activities of recent times. A look of serenity overcame him when he smiled.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Without your support it would have been difficult. Now is the opportunity for sound financial planning. While I don’t agree with Mr. de Bois’s methods, I do agree with his sentiments for the poor. Think of all the good the bank can do.’

  Gabrielle smiled. Perhaps it was the cardinal’s non-religious upbringing that made him somehow more human than the others. He had witnessed hardship, that was obvious, and he had conquered. Yet there was no anger, nor animosity towards the past. Instead he radiated warmth: perhaps even more so than the pontiff.

  ‘And how are you?’ he asked softly. There was a genuine interest in the question that Gabrielle found reassuring. Since the day of her father’s death she had faced countless general courtesies and made up pleasantries such as ‘so how are you holding up?’ or ‘I’m sorry for your loss’.

  But his manner was different. He spoke to her in the manner one would use to address a relative, taking the time to digest the response before sharing in the activities of their life.

  ‘I’m okay,’ she replied. ‘Sergeant Frei has been amazing.’

  Not for the first time a strange feeling overcame her as she thought of him. For the briefest of seconds she wondered where he was. Whether he was thinking about her.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I’ll speak to him myself afterwards.’

  Gabrielle nodded and forced a smile. Despite the smile, the cardinal detected all was not well.

  ‘I feel something is troubling you.’

  She considered her reply carefully. ‘Cardinal, I know this is not usual but there is something in the Vatican Library I need to see.’

  Utaka’s response was one of calm. She remembered back to the meeting where his poker face had kept de Bois guessing. She expected a no, followed by an explanation, followed by a justification. His answer was pleasantly surprising.

  ‘Only scholars are allowed to enter the library and archives,’ Utaka said with his hands together. ‘However, I’m sure that in the light of your devotion to the Vatican over the years we can allow that. Your great-uncle, I’m sure, would have no objection. We can rely on your discretion, of course.’

  ‘Of course, thank you, eminence.’

  Once again silence followed, this time more awkward.

  ‘I sense something else is troubling you.’

  Gabrielle fiddled with her hair, considering her response. This was potentially dangerous territory. She still did not know how to explain the Templar story, if there was such a thing. Yet something else worried her, something even more terrifying. Perhaps people died for knowing too much. How much could she safely tell?

  She grimaced intently and eventually decided to tell him. She began tentatively, focusing largely on the discovery of the diary. The cardinal remained silent for over ten minutes, allowing Gabrielle to complete the story without interruption. She told the same story that Mike had told Thierry. She finished by telling him of the possible significance of the Vatican Library.

  The cardinal remained silent for several seconds. He rubbed his eyes, possibly in shock as much as anything else.

  ‘I am surprised at you, Gabrielle,’ he said rising to his feet. ‘The Vatican did not post a Swiss Guard so you could jeopardise your own life,’ he pointed his finger at Gabrielle. ‘I’ll see Frei myself.’

  ‘No, no, don’t blame Mike.’

  ‘He disobeyed a strict order.’

  ‘No. He obeyed your every word,’ Gabrielle said, rising to her feet. She spoke slightly louder than she intended. ‘Wherever I go, he must go. That was what you told him.’

  The cardinal put his hands to his face. Remembering words was difficult. Perhaps that was the instruction. The world seemed to thrive on technicalities these days but that was no excuse for flippancy.

  ‘He should have known better,’ Utaka said. ‘Someone may have…you could’ve been killed. We have no idea who is behind these murders. Whatever possessed you?’

  ‘Mikael Devére told the Vatican Police that the Rite of Larmenius killed my father. I want to know who it was and why. I have a right…’

  ‘They, they…even the Vatican isn’t sure who’s responsible.’

  ‘That’s a lie and you know it.’

  Gabrielle hesitated, ridden with guilt for her outburst. She could tell by the cardinal’s expression that he harboured feelings of deep uncertainty and worry.

  ‘I think there’s more to this than the Vatican realises. I think the Templars may be real.’

  Utaka forced a laugh, not of humour but frustration and perhaps denial. He returned to his seat, his eyes staring at Gabrielle. In Gabrielle’s opinion he knew more than he let on.

  ‘I take it you have heard of them?’

  Utaka shook his head but on this occasion made no eye contact. ‘There are millions of organisations that claim to be the Knights Templar,’ Utaka said. ‘Impossible. It’s been seven hundred years.’

  ‘Eminence, it’s indisputable. I’ve seen the proof. They’re out there, they have to be.’ A couple of stray tears fell from her eyes. ‘They killed my dad.’

  The cardinal looked upon her with sympathy. ‘Nothing is known,’ he said seriously, ‘not for sure. And endangering your own life will not bring him back. This is not the time for recklessness. This is the time for compassion, and mourning.’

  ‘If my father’s death and the others are connected then this could be vital – for the Vatican too. It’s here! I know it is. We have to find it.’

  There was no denying the strength of that statement. Too much had happened to dismiss the whole thing out of hand. This was perhaps a vital lead.

  ‘Why don’t I take you to Cardinal Marcelos.’

  24

  The Archivist and Librarian of the Holy Roman Church, Cardinal Rafael Marcelos, had spent most of the day working quietly in his office. With his tasks for the day nearing an end, he relaxed momentarily.

  After taking a few seconds to gather his thoughts, he picked up a freshly printed letter and inserted it into an envelope that had already been named and addressed. Although the library was officially closed for refurbishment, that had not stopped the requests. A history professor from Wales had written asking to see a manuscript located in the secret archive concerning the Vatican at the time of the Second World War: his request was denied.

  Another, this one a theology academic from a university in Oregon, applied for permission to see a copy of something regarding Theology and Philosophy in the 12th century: his request was accepted.

  And now he was writing to someone named Jones from Sunderland in England who had written to him looking for something that he had never even heard of that was hidden in the secret archive. How did he even know of this? It takes all kinds.

  He was unlike any librarian in the world. Over 75,000 manuscripts lay hidden within the incredible architectural labyrinth in the company of over 1.1 million printed books, more than any other library in existence in the West. Every day scholars throughout the world would write to the library, requesting a brief glimpse into the fountain of knowledge and in theory every request had to be approved by him.

  It had been that way for over eighteen months. He had previously spent over
eight years as Prefect of the Secret Archives: that curious location adjacent the library on the via Di Porta Angelica, which exists as the central repository for all acts passed by the Holy See. He had heard rumours regarding some of the manuscripts that allegedly lay hidden there but even he did not know for sure. Although open to the public, very few people are allowed to view its content. An estimated 4,000 scholars every year are granted access to both and then only for a specific book at a specific time for a specific reason justified by occupation and reasonable intent. A researcher with relevant qualifications and reason for their research could request permission in writing or in person and acceptance was still only a matter of chance. To get into the secret archive without reason was like breaking into the Pope’s bedroom, only the Pope was likely to be more welcoming.

  Marcelos sealed the envelope, yet another rejection to a nobody who should mind his own business instead of digging up stuff that did not concern him, and threw it down into his out tray. He shuffled some papers in his hands and looked with interest at his computer screen, anticipating his next task.

  Suddenly there came a knock at the door, a gentle respectful tap, perhaps one of the two surviving Archivist Emeriti rather than the abrupt manner he associated with the non-clergy. He paused momentarily before answering.

  Cardinal Utaka was the first to enter. The librarian monitored him momentarily before rising awkwardly to his feet.

  ‘George, I assume the meeting is over.’

  ‘It is, Rafa,’ Utaka returned. Gabrielle entered beside him and smiled awkwardly at Marcelos.

  Marcelos looked at her judgingly, secretly not knowing what to make of her. On first impression he assumed she was a businesswoman of some kind, probably a female lawyer, or something less impressive.

  Likewise, Gabrielle did not know what to make of him. He was unlike the cardinals on the oversight committee. He was smaller than most, perhaps five foot two inches in height, with round glasses surrounding large green eyes that seemed almost owl-like below a semi baldhead. His crooked nose reminded her of the goblins from the first Harry Potter.