The Omega Scroll (5 page)

BOOK TWO

1978 – 1979

CHAPTER NINE

Roma

A
rchbishop Lorenzo Petroni, Sostituto for General Affairs in the Secretariat of State, was the most influential archbishop in the Vatican. Following the death of Pope Paul VI and the election of Cardinal Albino Luciani of Venice as Pope John Paul I, Petroni had continued in the appointment as the new Pope’s Chief of Staff, retaining control of the vast finances of the Vatican Bank. Nothing went in or out of the Pope’s office without Petroni seeing it, or so he had thought, but today, less than a month after the new Pope’s election, Lorenzo Petroni was a very worried man. Cardinal Luciani had been elected as someone the Curial Cardinals thought they could control but the quiet cardinal from Venice had turned out to be quite the opposite. The very careers of both Archbishop Petroni and the French Cardinal Secretary of State, Cardinal Jean Villot, were now seriously threatened.

Archbishop Petroni frowned as he read the memo from Father Giovanni Donelli, private secretary to His Holiness.

His Holiness has expressed a wish that a small number of priests and nuns be given the opportunity to study at a secular university. The aim is to promote an exchange of experiences to enable the Holy Catholic Church to better respond to changes in the wider world and to become acquainted with the thinking of the next generation.

His Holiness would be grateful for advice.

‘Exchange of experiences!’ Angry at having to even consider such a proposal when other events were spiralling beyond his control, Petroni screwed the memo up and threw it into the bin, wondering who or what might have prompted the Holy Father to even contemplate such a move. A move fraught with danger, even if the right people could be found. His thoughts were interrupted by the quiet buzzing of the intercom.

‘Petroni!’

‘His Holiness would like to see you, Excellency.’

‘Subject!’

‘I think it might be about the university proposal,’ Father Donelli replied calmly. He was getting used to the Chief of Staff’s irascibility.

‘It would make life easier if we were sure,’ Petroni snapped, switching off the intercom, relieved that the summons had not been the one he was dreading. He quickly composed himself and focused his thoughts on how he might best head the university proposal off at the pass.

‘
S’accomodi
!’

‘You wished to see me, Holiness?’

‘Have a seat, Lorenzo.’ Luciani’s demeanour was polite but uncharacteristically cool, something that was not lost on Petroni.

‘This university proposal. You’ve had a chance to look at it?’

‘Not in much detail, Holiness, but I will.’

‘It has some merit,
non è vero
?’

‘Certainly, Holiness. Although I think there are some pitfalls that should be examined before we go ahead.’

‘Oh?’

‘It will be important to select the right people, and of course the right university. The course content will also be crucial. With all that in mind I think it would be prudent to establish an interdepartmental committee that should be asked to report on these and some of the other issues.’ Lorenzo Petroni had learned early the value of an inter-departmental committee. With the right man at the helm, in this case himself, a proposal like this could be buried before it even got off the ground. If someone did remember to ask, an interim report could be relied upon to cause further delay until whoever had made the proposal in the first place had moved on.

‘Inter-departmental committees can be useful things. Sometimes,’ the Pope added meaningfully. It was not the first time the young Petroni’s arrogance had led him to misjudge an adversary, and it would not be the last.

‘I have already had a very favourable response from the Chancellor of Ca’ Granda, the Università Statale in Milano.’

‘There is an excellent Università Cattolica in Milano,’ Petroni countered.

‘We know that, but our mind is made up.’ The Holy Father’s rare use of the Papal plural carried a note of finality. ‘I would like the Cardinal Prefect for the Congregation for the Clergy to examine it and get his people to provide four nominations.’ Luciani’s smile lacked its customary warmth.

Furious at being outmanoeuvred, Petroni stormed back to his office. Exposing young Catholic priests and nuns to the perils of an uncontrolled secular world risked corruption of their minds, but the university proposal could wait. Right now Petroni’s biggest problem was the Pope’s rumoured investigation of the Vatican Bank.

A week later Lorenzo Petroni, more worried than ever, was summoned to see the Cardinal Secretary of State.

‘Of course, Eminence, I’ll come down straight away.’

Cardinal Jean Villot was slumped, ashen-faced, on one of the crimson couches in his office. A large ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts sat next to a copy of
L’Osservatore Politico
on the coffee table. The headline could not have been worse – ‘The Great Vatican Lodge’.

Membership of a Masonic Lodge, especially one as well connected as P2, had significant benefits but the Catholic Church had always been very clear on the ‘sons of evil’. Any Catholic found to be a Mason would be excommunicated, and the editor of
L’Osservatore Politico
, a disgruntled former member of P2, had published a list of a hundred and twenty-one prominent Catholics who were members of Masonic Lodges. The Cardinal Secretary of State’s name was at the top of the list, along with several other cardinals. Petroni’s gut clenched. He had been accepted for membership just the week before.

‘I have just been sacked,’ the Secretary of State said simply.

‘The list?’ Petroni asked, glancing towards the paper. ‘May I?’

‘You’re not on it.’

‘I don’t understand, Eminence,’ Petroni replied, struggling to keep the relief from his voice.

‘Your membership was agreed but it hasn’t been processed yet.’

‘I’m sorry about your name being published, Eminence,’ Petroni offered belatedly. ‘I guess I’ve been lucky this time,’ he added, seeking confirmation that he had indeed escaped.

‘Not really. The Pope intends to relieve you of all your duties tomorrow. Yesterday he received a preliminary report on your activities in the Vatican Bank and he intends to hold a thorough investigation into all Vatican finances. If that goes ahead I don’t have to tell you that it will result in criminal charges that will have some of us behind bars for a very long time.’

Lorenzo Petroni returned to his office, his face the same colour as the Secretary of State’s, his mind in turmoil. The investigation could not be allowed to go ahead. He would need to confer with Giorgio Felici, the young Sicilian from P2.

Giovanni Donelli made his way to the Papal dining room on the third floor of the Vatican’s Apostolic Palace. It had been thirty-two days since Luciani’s election and tonight, Pope John Paul I had asked Giovanni to dine with him alone.

At Luciani’s request the sisters of the Papal household had prepared a simple meal of clear soup, veal, fresh beans and salad.

‘You look troubled, Holiness,’ Giovanni ventured.

‘Some of what I have to tell you tonight, Giovanni, will become common knowledge tomorrow, but some of it will not. You’ve seen
L’Osservatore Politico
?’

‘I was shocked, Holiness,’ Giovanni said. Freemasonry was an anathema to him, let alone Lodges that were linked to the Mafia.

Albino Luciani nodded. ‘This afternoon I relieved the Cardinal Secretary of State of all duties. He will be sent back to France to a retirement home where hopefully he will find some peace. The other cardinals and bishops on that list will be found dioceses where they can reflect and are unlikely to have any contact with a Masonic Lodge.’ It was a measure of the man; bitterly disappointed and shaken, he still found time to consider those who had betrayed the Church.

‘The preliminary report on the Vatican Bank that I gave you for safekeeping, did you read it?’

‘No, Holiness, I wasn’t sure if I should. I put it in the safe.’

Luciani smiled. Had the positions been reversed he would have done the same. ‘We need to apply the same rules here as we did in Venice, Giovanni. Neither of us is used to Vatican politics but you need to be across all the issues. When you have time I’d like you to read the investigation. I’m not sure how to proceed yet, but tomorrow I will be relieving Archbishop Petroni of all his duties.

‘Your Chief of Staff?’ Giovanni was no great fan of the arrogant and aggressive Petroni, but he was still stunned at the levels to which corruption and deceit had reached within the Vatican.

As Pope John Paul I and Giovanni continued their conversation, and the nuns of the Papal household relaxed in the kitchen, a figure dressed in a priest’s black soutane left the Pope’s bedroom as quietly as he had entered.

‘The Vatican Bank has been involved in serious criminal activities for at least as long as Petroni has been at the helm.’

Giovanni listened intently.

‘Over the past few years we have criminally abused our position as a Papal State and our immunity from investigation by the Italian authorities. The Vatican Bank has been laundering billions of lire for the Mafia and we are heavily involved in a fake invoicing scheme that is defrauding the Italian people of billions more. We have shares in companies that make tanks and munitions, and I’m told that of the more than ten thousand accounts in our Bank, fewer than 10 per cent have a legitimate purpose. Most of them are slush funds for Petroni’s cronies in the Mafia.’

‘We should make a clean breast of this, Holiness,’ Giovanni observed astutely.

‘I intend to, including the fact that at one stage, Istituto Farmacologico Sereno was owned by the Vatican.’

‘The big pharmaceutical?’

Pope John Paul I nodded. ‘One of their biggest selling products is Luteolas, the oral contraceptive pill. You know my views on our doctrine on contraception, Giovanni, but to be condemning birth control while at the same time manufacturing millions of contraceptive pills because it makes us money plunges us to a new depth of hypocrisy. There is, however, an even more sensitive issue. The investigation has revealed that earlier this year we purchased a Dead Sea Scroll for ten million dollars. Have you ever heard of the Omega Scroll?’

‘I’ve heard of it, Holiness, but I had no idea it actually existed, much less that the Vatican might have bought it.’

‘We have known each other for a long time, Giovanni, and when I’m long gone it will be up to you and others like you to carry the Church forward. If what I’m told is true, the Omega Scroll will force us to rethink much of our doctrine and that will upset a great many people, but we must never shy away from the truth. At my request, an old retired Professor of Middle East Antiquities from Università Ca’ Granda, Professor Salvatore Fiorini, has been here for the last week secretly translating it. I have a brief that I will read tonight. My initial impression is that amongst other revelations, the Omega Scroll contains a terrible warning for us all.’

Giovanni woke to the urgent ringing of the Holy Father’s bell. He looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It was just after five in the morning. Giovanni struggled into his robe and hurried down the corridor that connected his own small apartment to that of the Pope’s.

‘Sister Vincenza. You look ill!’ Giovanni said as he reached the end of the hallway. ‘What on earth’s happened?’

‘Something terrible, Father. His Holiness … He’s …’ Sister Vincenza choked on the words.

Giovanni recoiled in shock when he entered the Pope’s bedroom. His Holiness was upright in bed, his face twisted in agony, eyes bulging. His glasses had slipped to the end of his nose. Giovanni felt a strange and overwhelming need to remain calm as he glanced at the Pope’s slippers that had been kicked off in disarray beside the bed, the toes covered in vomit. He picked up the phone beside the Pope’s bedside and rang the Cardinal Secretary of State in his Lateran Palace Apartment. The Cardinal answered almost immediately.

‘
Mon dieu, c’est vrais tous ça?
My God, is that true?’

The Cardinal, Giovanni would reflect later, sounded awake and alert.

‘When did you find him, Sister?’ Giovanni asked.

‘Just before I woke you, Father,’ Sister Vincenza replied, tears streaming down her kindly old face. ‘I left the Holy Father’s coffee outside his room at four-thirty as I always do and when I checked just before five it hadn’t been touched, so I knocked and then …’ Her voice trailed off as she started to sob.

‘You did all you could,’ Giovanni said, comforting the old nun. ‘Make yourself a cup of tea,’ he said, giving her something to do.

‘Would you like one, Father?’ Sister Vincenza asked, ever concerned about the welfare of those in her care.

‘Only if you feel up to it.’

When the old nun had left Giovanni looked more closely at the dead Pope. In the short time he had held the Keys of Peter, Albino Luciani had come to be loved by most and feared by some. He was a man of unassuming charm and softness, with a searing intellect. Giovanni glanced at the small bottle of medicine the Pope kept on his bedside table for low blood pressure, then at the crimson folder clutched in the dead Pope’s hand. The papers that had spilled from it onto the bed were part of Professor Fiorini’s brief on the Omega Scroll. Giovanni felt a cold fear in the pit of his stomach as he scanned the scattered pages.

And in the beginning, the third will triumph over the first and second … all mankind will be annihilated.

‘Don’t touch anything, Father.’ Lorenzo Petroni’s voice was steely, his lack of emotion sinister. ‘Does anyone else know that the Pope is dead?’ He was clean-shaven and fully dressed in the formal robes of an archbishop. Only minutes had passed since Giovanni had alerted the Cardinal Secretary of State. It was not yet five-fifteen.

‘Only Sister Vincenza and the Cardinal Secretary of State.’

‘You should have rung me as well, Father Donelli. To protect Sister Vincenza from the media she is to be returned to her convent in Venice. Immediately.’