In God's Name (3 page)

Among those I cannot thank publicly are the people resident within Vatican City who contacted me and initiated my investigation of the events surrounding the death of Pope John Paul I, Albino Luciani. The fact that men and women living within the heart of the Roman Catholic Church cannot speak openly and be identified is an eloquent comment on the state of affairs within the Vatican.

Doubtless this book will be attacked by some and dismissed by others. It will be seen by some as an assault on the Roman Catholic faith in particular and on Christianity in general. It is neither of these. To a degree it is an indictment of specifically named men who were born Roman Catholics but who have never become Christians.

As such this book is not an attack on ‘The Faith’ of the Church’s devout millions who follow it. What they hold sacred is too important to be left in the hands of men who have conspired to drag the message
of Christ into the muddy market place – a conspiracy that has met with frightening success.

As already indicated I am met with an insurmountable difficulty when faced with the task of naming specific sources within the text. Who exactly told me what or provided the documentary information must remain secret. I can assure the reader that all the information, all the details, all the facts, have been checked and double checked to the extent multiple sources were available. I take the responsibility for putting the evidence together and for the conclusions reached.

I am sure that the fact that I recount conversations between men dead before my investigation began will be cause for comment. How for example could I know what passed between Pope John Paul I and Cardinal Jean Villot on the day they discussed the issue of birth control? Within the Vatican there is no such thing as a private audience that remains completely private. Quite simply both men subsequently talked to others of what had transpired. These secondary sources, sometimes with deeply differing personal opinions on the issue discussed by the Pope and his Secretary of State, provided the words attributed. Therefore while the dialogue within this book is reconstructed, it is not fabricated.

Prologue

The spiritual leader of nearly one-fifth of the world’s population wields immense power: but any uninformed observer of Albino Luciani at the beginning of his reign as Pope John Paul I would have found it difficult to believe that this man truly embodied such power. The diffidence and humility emanating from this small, quiet, 65-year-old Italian had led many to conclude that this Papacy would not be particularly noteworthy. The well-informed, however, knew differently: Albino Luciani had embarked on a revolution.

On September 28th, 1978 he had been Pope for thirty-three days. In little more than a month he had initiated various courses of action which, if completed, would have a direct and dynamic effect upon us all. The majority in this world would applaud his decisions, a minority would be appalled. The man who had quickly been labelled ‘The Smiling Pope’ intended to remove the smiles from a number of faces on the following day.

That evening Luciani sat down to dinner in the third-floor dining-room of the Apostolic Palace within Vatican City. With him were his two secretaries, Father Diego Lorenzi, who had worked closely with him in Venice for over two years when, as a Cardinal, Luciani had been Patriarch there, and Father John Magee, newly acquired since the Papal election. As the nuns who worked in the Papal Apartments hovered anxiously, Albino Luciani ate a frugal meal of clear soup, veal, fresh beans and a little salad. He sipped occasionally from a glass of water and considered the events of the day and the decisions he had made. He had not wanted the job. He had not sought or canvassed for the Papacy. Now as Head of State the awesome responsibilities were his.

While Sisters Vincenza, Assunta, Clorinda and Gabrietta quietly served the three men as they watched on television the events which preoccupied Italy that evening, other men in other places were being caused deep anxiety by the activities of Albino Luciani.

One floor below the Papal Apartments the lights were still on in the Vatican Bank. Its head, Bishop Paul Marcinkus, had other more pressing problems on his mind than his evening meal. Chicago-born Marcinkus had learned about survival on the back-streets of Cicero, Illinois. During his meteoric rise to the position of ‘God’s Banker’ he had survived many moments of crisis. Now he was confronted with the most serious he had ever faced. In the past thirty-three days his colleagues in the Bank had noticed a remarkable change in the man who controlled the Vatican’s millions. The 6ft 3in, 16-stone extrovert had become moody and introspective. He was visibly losing weight and his face had acquired a grey pallor. Vatican City in many respects is a village and secrets are hard to keep in a village. Word had reached Marcinkus that the new Pope had quietly begun his own personal investigation of the Vatican Bank and specifically into the methods Marcinkus was using to run that Bank. Countless times since the arrival of the new Pope, Marcinkus had regretted that business in 1972 concerning the Banca Cattolica del Veneto.

Vatican Secretary of State Cardinal Jean Villot was another who was still at his desk on that September evening. He studied the list of appointments, resignations to be asked for, and transfers which the Pope had handed to him one hour previously. He had advised, argued, remonstrated but to no avail. Luciani had been adamant.

It was by any standards a dramatic reshuffle. It would set the Church in new directions; directions which Villot, and the others on the list who were about to be replaced, considered highly dangerous. When these changes were announced there would be millions of words written and uttered by the world’s media, analyzing, dissecting, prophesying, explaining. The real explanation, however, would not be discussed, would not be given a public airing – there was one common denominator, one fact that linked each of the men about to be replaced. Villot was aware of it. More important, so was the Pope. It had been one of the factors that had caused him to act: to strip these men of real power and put them into relatively harmless positions. It was Freemasonry.

The evidence the Pope had acquired indicated that within the Vatican City State there were over 100 Masons, ranging from
Cardinals to priests. This despite the fact that Canon Law stated that to be a Freemason ensured automatic excommunication. Luciani was further preoccupied with an illegal masonic lodge which had penetrated far beyond Italy in its search for wealth and power. It called itself P2. The fact that it had penetrated the Vatican walls and formed masonic links with priests, bishops and even Cardinals made P2 anathema to Albino Luciani.

Villot had already become deeply concerned about the new Papacy before this latest bombshell. He was one of the very few who was aware of the dialogue taking place between the Pope and the State Department in Washington. He knew that on October 23rd the Vatican would be receiving a Congressional delegation, and that on October 24th the delegation would be having a private audience with the Pope. The subject: birth control.

Villot had looked carefully at the Vatican dossier on Albino Luciani. He had also read the secret memorandum that Luciani, then Bishop of Vittorio Veneto, had sent to Paul VI before the Papal announcement of the encyclical
Humanae Vitae,
an encyclical which prohibited Catholics using any artificial form of birth control. His own discussions with Luciani had left him in no doubt where the new Pope stood on this issue. Equally, in Villot’s mind, there was no doubt what Paul’s successor was now planning to do. There was to be a dramatic change of position. Some would agree with Villot’s view that it was a betrayal of Paul VI. Many would acclaim it as the Church’s greatest contribution to the twentieth century.

In Buenos Aires, another banker, Roberto Calvi, had Pope John Paul I on his mind as September 1978 drew to a close. In the preceding weeks he had discussed the problems posed by the new Pope with his protectors, Licio Gelli and Umberto Ortolani, two men who could list among their many assets their complete control of Calvi, chairman of Banco Ambrosiano. Calvi had been beset with problems even before the Papal election that placed Albino Luciani upon St Peter’s chair. The Bank of Italy had been secretly investigating Calvi’s Milan bank since April. It was an investigation prompted by a mysterious poster campaign against Calvi which had erupted in late 1977: posters which gave details of some of Calvi’s criminal activities and hinted at a world-wide range of criminal acts.

Calvi was aware of exactly what progress the Bank of Italy was making with its investigation. His close friendship with Licio Gelli ensured a day-by-day account of it. He was equally aware of the Papal investigation into the Vatican Bank. Like Marcinkus he knew
it was only a matter of time before the two independent investigations realized that to probe one of these financial empires was to probe both. He was doing everything within his considerable power to thwart the Bank of Italy and protect his financial empire, from which he was in the process of stealing over one billion dollars.

Careful analysis of Roberto Calvi’s position in September 1978 makes it abundantly clear that if Pope Paul was succeeded by an honest man then Calvi faced total ruin, the collapse of his bank and certain imprisonment. There is no doubt whatever that Albino Luciani was just such a man.

In New York, Sicilian banker Michele Sindona had also been anxiously monitoring Pope John Paul’s activities. For over three years Sindona had been fighting the Italian Government’s attempts to have him extradited. They wanted him brought to Milan to face charges involving fraudulent diversion of 225 million dollars. Earlier that year, in May, it appeared that Sindona had finally lost the long battle. A Federal Judge had ruled that the extradition request should be granted.

Sindona remained on a 3 million dollar bail while his lawyers prepared to play one last card. They demanded that the United States Government prove that there was well-founded evidence to justify extradition. Sindona asserted that the charges brought against him by the Italian Government were the work of Communist and other left-wing politicians. His lawyers also asserted that the Milan prosecutor had concealed evidence that would clear Sindona and that if their client was returned to Italy he would almost certainly be assassinated. The hearing was scheduled for November.

That summer, in New York, others were equally active on behalf of Michele Sindona. One Mafia member, Luigi Ronsisvalle, a professional killer; was threatening the life of witness Nicola Biase, who had earlier given evidence against Sindona in the extradition proceedings. The Mafia also had a contract out on the life of assistant United States attorney John Kenney, who was Chief Prosecutor in the extradition proceedings. The fee being offered for the murder of the Government attorney was 100,000 dollars.

If Pope John Paul I continued to dig into the affairs of the Vatican Bank then no amount of Mafia contracts would help Sindona in his fight against being returned to Italy. The web of corruption at the Vatican Bank, which included the laundering of Mafia money through that Bank, went back beyond Calvi: back to Michele Sindona.

In Chicago another Prince of the Catholic Church worried and fretted about events in the Vatican City: Cardinal John Cody, head of the richest archdiocese in the world. Cody ruled over two-and-a-half million Catholics and nearly 3,000 priests, over 450 parishes and an annual income that he refused to reveal in its entirety to anyone. It was in fact in excess of 250 million dollars. Fiscal secrecy was only one of the problems that whirled around Cody. By 1978 he had ruled Chicago for thirteen years. In those years the demands for his replacement had reached extraordinary proportions. Priests, nuns, lay workers, people from many secular professions had petitioned Rome in their thousands for the removal of a man they regarded as a despot.

Pope Paul had agonized for years about removing Cody. He had on at least one occasion actually steeled himself and made the decision, only to revoke the order at the last moment. The complex, tortured personality of Paul was only part of the reason for the vacillation. Paul knew that other secret allegations had been made against Cody, with a substantial amount of evidence which indicated the urgent need to replace the Cardinal of Chicago.

During late September, Cody received a phone call from Rome. The Vatican City village had leaked another piece of information – information well paid for over the years by Cardinal Cody. The caller told the Cardinal that where Pope Paul had agonized his successor John Paul had acted. The Pope had decided that Cardinal John Cody was to be replaced.

Over at least three of these men lurked the shadow of another, Licio Gelli. Men called him ‘Il Burattinaio’ – the Puppet Master. The puppets were many and were placed in numerous countries. He controlled P2 and through it he controlled Italy. In Buenos Aires, the city where he discussed the problem of the new Pope with Calvi, the Puppet Master had organized the triumphant return to power of General Peron – a fact that Peron subsequently acknowledged by kneeling at Gelli’s feet. If Marcinkus, Sindona or Calvi were threatened by the various courses of action planned by Albino Luciani, it was in Licio Gelli’s direct interests that the threat should be removed.