He could barely contain himself.
So many of the pompous, arrogant red vultures, as Spagna called the cardinals, had reveled in his demise. Yet apparently some of them were guilty of the most heinous of crimes. What many had suspected for decades, himself included, now seemed confirmed.
Corruption ran rampant in the curia.
In fact, it appeared to be institutionalized.
Worse yet, the ones in charge seemed intent on both covering it up and keeping it going.
Contrary to what people thought, the pope’s word was not absolute when it came to running the church. The curia had existed for over a thousand years, and during that time it had perfected the art of survival. The system was so entrenched, so convoluted, that no one had ever successfully mounted any meaningful reform. Popes of late had tried, John Paul I and Francis I the most notable. Both failed. And one, Benedict XVI, resigned in frustration over making changes, as they would have entailed firing many of his longtime friends. Tales of internal investigations and secret audits had long run rampant. Francis had even empowered two so-called independent commissions to both investigate the abuses and recommend changes, but nothing ever materialized.
Which, again, was no surprise.
The curia were experts in procrastination and misdirection. Magicians extraordinaire. As Spagna had just confirmed, two sets of records and fanciful accounting were commonplace. So adept were they, even pressure from the pope himself could be deflected. Why? Because in the end, a pope needed the curia. It took people to run a multibillion-euro enterprise and, as wasteful as it may be, the curia kept the Holy See going. Similar to the Allies after World War II who held their noses and made use of ex-Nazis all across Germany. Not the best choice, just the only choice.
He needed to finish the final few pages.
So he turned his attention back to the summary.
There is an incident that illustrates precisely the level and extent of the current abuses. One cardinal, the beneficiary of a free apartment located close to Vatican City, wanted to expand his living space. When his neighbor, an elderly priest granted a rent subsidy for health reasons, was hospitalized, the cardinal commissioned renovations and broke through a wall between the two apartments, appropriating additional living space, even to the extent of retaining the elderly priest’s furniture. Once discharged from the hospital, the priest discovered the intrusion. But there was nothing he could do. No one within the Holy See would challenge the cardinal. The priest died a short time later (which is why the incident remained quiet) and that cardinal still has possession of his enlarged, rent-free apartment.
He rattled through his brain trying to put a name to the anonymous cardinal. He knew of several who lived in and around the Vatican. No matter who it might be, he was going to enjoy destroying that man.
Another curious anomaly has been discovered. John Paul I died in September 1978, after only thirty-three days as pope. But there exists within the Vatican bank an account bearing his name that currently has €110,000 on deposit. Even more curious, there has been continuous activity within that account to this day. One cardinal’s name is associated with that activity. There are at least eight other accounts associated with deceased persons where unexplained financial activity is occurring. The best explanation points to institutionalized theft and embezzlement.
Then there is the process of sainthood where corruption appears to have risen to its greatest heights. The process of sainthood has been steeped in secrecy for centuries. To open a case for beatification a fee of €50,000 is currently charged. On top of that another €15,000 is required to offset “operating costs.” These moneys go not only to the Holy See, but to pay the unreasonably high fees charged by expert theologians, doctors, and bishops who examine the proposed saint’s cause. To that are added the costs for researchers, the drafting of the candidate’s résumé, and the work of the postulator who champions the candidate’s nomination. The average cost per sainthood candidate is nearly €500,000. But that is not all. At each point along the process there are festivities where prelates are invited to speak of the future saint’s acts and miracles. Gifts are routinely provided to those prelates, which is in addition to the above-detailed expenses. In the end, the total cost to become a saint ranges somewhere between €600,000 and €750,000.
To illustrate the extent of this massive revenue stream, under John Paul II, 1,338 anointed blessed and 482 saints were named. The amount of moneys generated from these 1,820 accounts topped €1 billion. Incredibly, in 1983, John Paul II ordered that all of those moneys were to be managed, not by the Church but by the individual postulators, who were instructed to keep “regularly updated ledgers” on every single potential saint, detailing where all moneys collected were spent. But no oversight on these outsiders was ordered. No audits were ever performed. The postulators operated outside the Holy See with a free hand, one that still exists today. Needless to say, their misuse of over a billion euros exceeds the scope of this summary. But I am privy to their corruption and embezzlement, which is massive, all occurring under the watchful eye of at least six current cardinals, who have also secretly shared in those proceeds.
He stopped reading, astonished by the hypocrisy. What arrogant, pompous, lying thieves. Never once had he stolen from the church. No gratuities. No free trips. No special gifts, as he knew some of the cardinals called that patronage. Nothing. Odd, since Spagna was right. In his youth he’d been vastly different. Stealing had been common. But the older he became, the less physical things mattered. He was after something far more alluring. More satisfying.
Absolute power.
The café’s courtyard remained empty. The time was approaching 4:00 P.M. He nursed a third glass of wine, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion. He had no doubt that every allegation Spagna had made could be proven. The Entity would know how to follow money trails, how to sniff out dummy accounts and fraud, how to break through walls of secrecy and learn who was controlling what and how much.
Everything he’d read was true.
That was the whole point of passing it on. As was the lack of names. Not a single offender had been identified. This had been designed to merely whet his appetite.
And it succeeded.
Movement to his right caught his attention.
From the shadows he saw Arani Chatterjee, who entered the courtyard and calmly walked over and sat at the table uninvited.
“I see I was easy to find.”
“Your love of this place is noted in our files.” Chatterjee pointed. “Did you read it?”
He nodded. “Does he have the proof?”
“Oh, yes.” Chatterjee reached into his pocket and produced a flash drive. “It’s all on here. Audio recordings, documents, records scans, bank statements, surveillance reports. Every detail on every allegation, along with the name of every offender. Quite a list of bishops, monsignors, and cardinals, I’m told, most of whom should go to jail. Thankfully for them, the Holy See has no prisons.”
He could only imagine that list of names. It had to include the heads of the Institute of Religious Works, a fancy label for the Vatican Bank, which controlled all of the church’s financial assets. Also the Amministrazione del Patrimonio della sede Apostolica, which maintained the real estate holdings. The Governorate, which managed the museums and all of the for-profit commercial activities like the retail shops and stores. Along with the Prefecture for the Economic Affairs of the Holy See that oversaw every Vatican office. Those were the big four, and the cardinals currently managing them came from around the world. Chile, Honduras, the United States, India, Germany, the Congo, Australia. Not a one of them had ever lifted a finger to help him.
They would all go down.
But only after they voted for his papacy.
Every damn one of them would write his name on their ballot.
“What does Revelation warn?” Chatterjee asked. “That a corrupt church sits on the city of seven hills?”
Which is what Rome ha
d long been called.
“And its corruption will grow and finally be destroyed,” Chatterjee added, repocketing the flash drive.
All well and good, but, “I need to know what Spagna wants in return for this—invaluable—help.”
“Right now? Simply that you find the Nostra Trinità. As he told you, he wants that secured. He understands that you want to use it to make you pope. If the legends are to be believed, it might have a certain value. But seventeen hundred years have passed since its creation. What you just read, though, is more immediate and has a far greater value. So he wants a trade. Let him have the Trinity, and you get all that,”—Chatterjee pointed at the pages—“plus the flash drive.”
“Will he destroy the Nostra Trinità?”
“Absolutely.”
He didn’t necessarily disagree with that course. That had been his intention, too. Once he achieved the papacy, the last thing he’d want was for anything to cast doubt.
“Also,” Chatterjee said, “after an appropriate time, no more than ninety days beyond your coronation, you will make the archbishop a cardinal. He wants to die with a red hat on his head.”
“He doesn’t seem to like the ‘red vultures.’”
“He despises them. But he still wants to be one.”
“He’s a bit old.”
“You will likewise appoint him head of the Entity, dismissing the current cardinal who oversees that department. He’s no friend of the archbishop’s and, by the way, no friend of yours, either.”
“Making Spagna a cardinal will raise a lot of questions.”
“So? Only a pope chooses a cardinal and that is not subject to question or review. It’s solely your decision. And no secret appointments. This one is all public.”