time to ask for the ransom.’
65
The plane began its descent into Fiumicino Airport while flying over Livorno. They’d experienced some turbulence, especially over the peninsula. The stopover at Orly had been quick. Gavache said good-bye to them in his typical way with an ‘Au revoir, but I hope not’ to the men, and a smile for Sarah. He insisted on lightly touching her hair, as if caressing a daughter. He made her promise a future visit to the City of Lights and then left with the faithful Jean-Paul at his back.
Twenty minutes later they took off for Fiumicino. Sarah and Rafael, who had been accompanied on the flight to Paris by Gavache and Jean-Paul, were now alone, each absorbed in their own lives and thoughts. Rafael thought about speaking to her. It would be a good opportunity to find out everything that had happened, but ever since that one-sided conversation in Walker’s Wine and Ale Bar, their relationship had cooled to the point where it could no longer be called a relationship. A relationship was what she had with Francesco, the Italian journalist. Yes, he knew about the Italian journalist. He tried to keep himself informed about her life through surveillance. He enjoyed thinking that she knew, although she couldn’t have. After Francesco came into her life, Rafael felt he shouldn’t interfere. He did, however, investigate Francesco’s criminal record. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he hadn’t. After finding a clean record, except for a few traffic tickets, he decided that she was in good company. Until Jacopo had burst into his classroom at the Gregorian to inform him about Zafer’s death…
He should go to her. Should he? He should. Should he? Nervous, he sighed deeply. No woman should leave him feeling like this. He had a relationship with God… not only with God, but with the church, and he owed them fidelity and loyalty. But he had to talk to Sarah. Did he? Yes, he had to. At least to ask her forgiveness for his silence…
‘May I?’ he heard her ask. She had sat down before he could say yes.
‘Of course,’ he stammered. Sarah already had her seat belt fastened.
She looked out the window and sighed. It was dark and there was nothing to see.
For a few minutes they just listened to the noise of the engine moving the plane over Lazio Province. Then they got used to the noise and didn’t hear it anymore.
Rafael noticed her swollen, red eyes. She’d been crying. ‘Are you all right, Sarah?’
‘Yes. Fine,’ she replied immediately, more an automatic response than a sincere one. ‘And how are you?’
‘As you see,’ he said with a half smile, ‘I still don’t understand what happened.’
‘That’s not normal for you,’ she observed. ‘You’re always ahead of things, not behind.’
Rafael said nothing. It was true, and he felt uncomfortable with the situation. How could he protect her if she knew more than he?
‘Unless you have a trick up your sleeve?’ she teased.
Rafael rolled up his sleeves to show he wasn’t hiding anything.
‘JC again, huh?’ he asked.
‘Always JC,’ she replied evasively. Bringing us together and separating us, she thought without saying it, even though she wanted to.
‘Was it the Holy See that asked you to recover the parchments?’ Rafael was embarrassed to have to ask.
‘Yes. I feel strange telling you these things.’
And I feel strange asking, the priest thought.
He’d never felt so defenseless in front of her, so normal, so like a man.
‘Cardinal William came for me at the hotel last night,’ she continued. Last night? It felt so much longer, like weeks. Fatigue was taking over. It was almost nice, after so many hours on edge, of being constantly alert, suspicious, upset. ‘He explained JC’s plan while it was in action. Kidnapping Ben Isaac’s son to make him release the parchments.’
The death of the ‘Gentlemen’ didn’t matter to the pope’s assassin, or to the church, only the parchments mattered.
‘Have they discovered yet who was behind the murders?’ Sarah asked.
Rafael nodded. At least one thing Sarah didn’t know. ‘The Society of Jesus.’
Sarah was surprised. ‘The Jesuits? Aren’t they supposed to take a vow of chastity and poverty? How can they go around killing people indiscriminately?’
‘It’s complicated,’ Rafael confided.
‘Everything’s been very complicated. We are carrying around parchments written by Jesus Christ more than ten years after the Crucifixion,’ Sarah declared, implying that nothing could be more complicated than that.
‘Allegedly,’ Rafael cautioned.
‘Everything is alleged when dealing with the Holy See and Jesus. Even with JC. When I call him a murderer, he says the same thing.’ She paused, hoping Rafael would go on.
‘Everything indicates that the society, contrary to what is thought, is a fanatical religious organization that hasn’t hesitated to use any and all means to eliminate threats to the church for four hundred years.’
‘My God!’
‘They are the faithful guardians of some important secrets of the Catholic Church with unimaginable power,’ Rafael added.
‘Like P2?’
‘Worse than P2. P2 was motivated by money. The society is motivated by religion, and they are practically everywhere. There’s no comparison. Getting JC involved seems like a good decision,’ Rafael concluded.
Sarah looked shocked. She couldn’t consider herself an expert on the affairs of the Society of Jesus, but she admired their work in helping the unfortunate and in teaching. The Pontifical Gregorian University was the heir to the Collegio Romano, a prestigious organization founded in 1551 by the Jesuits and supported in 1584 by Gregory XIII, to whom they paid homage by adopting his name. And there were countless colleges and universities they founded and ran. It was hard to believe the Jesuits could be fanatics, much less terrorists.
‘Aren’t the society and the church on the same side?’ Sarah really wanted to understand this.
‘They were,’ Rafael replied. ‘For three centuries. But things changed in the twentieth century,’ he declared.
From the beginning, the society acted like a marketing team for the Vatican. They had an easy way of explaining things that laypeople could understand, and they started various rituals that the church ended up adopting. One of these was confession, which, until then, didn’t exist.
‘Seriously?’ Sarah found it curious. There were so many things people just assumed always existed without taking the trouble to realize that everything was the work of men.
Rafael nodded. Even today, with rare exceptions, a Jesuit priest heard confession from the pope every seven days.
‘Impressive,’ Sarah exclaimed. History only reveals one side, the winner’s.
‘Where does Gavache come into all this?’ Rafael inquired, returning to a subject he disliked, but couldn’t avoid.
‘I presume that JC must have joined the useful with the pleasant. The crimes were related. He’s one of the best inspectors in the French police, and probably a connection the old man has in France.’ She closed her eyes with a touch of regret. She shouldn’t have referred to JC like that in front of Rafael.
He smiled. Silence settled in between them again, but not as awkwardly. Good conversations have their moments of propitious silence, and these should be respected.
The engines slowed, and the plane began its descent. An attendant came to inform them of this. Only Sarah and Rafael were awake.
They were silent, feeling inhibited by each other. The technical details were exhausted, only the personal questions remained.
‘I’d like to apologize for my reaction in London that time,’ Sarah said.
