The Templar Concordat (52 page)

“Good job.”

“You going to tell Agretti you know what he did? With the treaty and all?”

“Nope. Let him think it was all a miracle, divine intervention, the work of the Holy Spirit protecting the Church.  He can spend the rest of his life trying to figure it out. No point in letting him know what I know. I’m sure he’ll be happy in the mountains. Might fall and break his neck.”

“Like his friend Santini over at the Vatican Library? He’s still dead. In fact, it looks like he was the one who started the cover-up. You need to stick someone in there you can trust. I wouldn’t have thought that place could be so important.”

“Yeah. I’ve thought of that. Santini was a fine scholar, but we need a fine scholar we can trust. Tell you what, ask those three guys we nominated for the treaty panel. I do want someone from inside the Church, but ask them who they like for the job. Make sure you talk to that little guy from Zurich. See who he thinks would be good.”

“You are a truly devious man, Boss.” Carlos saluted the Pope with his bottle of beer.

“One more thing…” Carlos stood up and took a small card from his pants pocket and squinted at it. “Mancini said the Templars promised you would say a Papal Mass for the soul of this man, Eguardo Santiago. Santiago thought he might need someone to fix his visa to the next life. He said you would understand.”

The Pope took the card and rubbed a thumb across the name. “I don’t really understand.” He took a pull from the beer. “But then I suppose I really do. Eguardo Santiago will have his mass, and I hope his visa. I suspect we owe him a great deal.”

The Pope shrugged. ”Well, I’ve learned one thing from the Templars.”

“What’s that?”

“Pray for luck. Sometimes your prayers are answered.”