Echoes Through the Vatican: A Paranormal Mystery (The Echoes Quartet Book 2) (6 page)

With a large envelope in hand, the professor returned to his desk and withdrew a sizable stack of papers. The pages were edged with annotations. Footnotes supported the text from the bottom of each page.

Professor Agostini’s notes were plentiful. It was plain to see he had spent time with these documents. If he hadn’t learned anything from them, it would only be because there was nothing to learn.

“You are searching for coins, Mr. Blessing?”

“Professor, I am searching, if not for the truth, for a signpost pointing the way to it.” Julian smiled and inclined his head slightly.

“Then, sir, we will get along famously. Of coins, I have none, but truths, of a sort, I have them in abundance.” The professor, eyes alight with mischief, had a class of one. He was now in his element.

“I will begin by setting the stage slightly and correcting a misconception under which you labor. At the outset, and not without good reason, Professor Bragonier and I agreed with you. We were all of us wrong.

“The Roman coins you found in Ireland we first believed to be half of a larger treasury. In fact the evidence supports the opposite. What you found in Ireland is only a tiny fraction of the whole.

“Where to begin?” The professor laid both palms down on the papers. “Let me tell you a story,” he said.

For two hours the professor spun out a chronicle of court intrigues, the illegitimate children of popes and petty kings, of greedy prelates, murder, larceny and betrayal, the rich and the powerful, the famous, the infamous, and the unknown powers behind the throne of St. Peter. It was a story of money – what it could buy, who it could enrich and who it could destroy. And the innocent. Always the innocent and always it was they who suffered.

The professor traced a course that took the story from ancient Rome to the ends of the modern world. One fact had led to another. One rumor led to another fact. On and on throughout history, innuendo led to rumor, led to fact, led inexorably to a darker truth.

The older man looked off into the distance as he spoke. He had done the research. He knew the story by heart and had no need to consult notes or look for validation or even acknowledgement from Julian.

“And that is the present state of my research. Sadly, there is far more I do not know than I do. I can tell you, I do not like this. There are parts of the story I have had to fill in based on a stew made up of facts, fables and insinuation. I like this even less. To me this is a puzzle and now it has taken hold so I must solve it. The pieces are here. I have yet to draw it all together. There is something missing.

“So, Mr. Blessing, what have you to say?” The professor smiled as he came back into himself. He was a professional realist. He was resigned that the past created the present and that the present created future histories. He was happy in history and saddened by the present and despaired for the future.

Julian thought for a moment. “A question, a clarification really.”

The professor’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward. “There was something about which I was unclear? I have made some error?” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of incredulity.

“Not at all,” Julian said. “It is not your ability to teach, but my inability to understand. Rather my not wanting to believe. Nothing more.”

Mollified, the professor snorted, “In that case, please ask your question.”

“Are you saying the Roman coins, the ones that never left Rome, were the seed money for an organization still in existence today? To believe that, changes the world. Professor, it is my sincere hope you will tell me how wrong I am.” Julian’s face was tight and his gray eyes sharp and penetrating.

The professor nodded his head slightly and only once. “I can only tell you what the research shows. Although we wish to believe otherwise, the study of history is not a science. Still, we do our best and follow the evidence where it takes us,” the professor said.

“I can say,” he continued, “we don’t always follow willingly. Some historical facts lead me to conclusions that are simply awkward. Some are nearly impossible to accept. By its nature, much of my research contradicts what we have previously known. In this case, you have stated the case accurately.

“If this has answered your question, please tell me what you have learned.” The professor sat back in his chair, watched Julian carefully and waited. The look said he was prepared to wait a very long time.

Julian sighed deeply before answering. “Well, in a way, what we have is the most complex money laundering and organized crime operation in the history of, well, history.”

The professor’s smile was a challenge. “And that is all?”

“There is an secret organization operating today that has been in existence at least as long as the Catholic church and perhaps longer.” Brows laced together, mouth set, eyes cold and hard, Julian let out a noisy breath.

“You are a good student, Mr. Blessing. You are willing to accept as possible what you are unwilling to believe is true,” the professor said. “In this, you are a better student than I am an historian.

“I did not want to believe,” the professor said. “I discounted out of hand the idea an organization could operate unseen for millennia. I rejected the idea even though all of the evidence pointed to that being the case.

“I went so far as to speculate the treasure was used to fund the fledgling church. That seemed like a reasonable conclusion when compared to where the trail of evidence was leading.”

The professor continued. “An organization operating in parallel, whose rise to power mirrored that of the Catholic Church, was a thing I could not credit. That it could be more secretive than the Church was a thing unbelievable. In the end though, I was forced to accept what I tried so desperately to reject.

“You, Mr. Blessing, have shamed an eminent professor.” Agostini smiled and inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Bravo.”

“Professor, please understand, I am not shackled by the research. You presented the evidence your research validated. I jumped ahead. Nothing more,” Julian said.

“A further question, if I may,” Julian said and the professor nodded and looked interested. “Throughout, you have not really mentioned Professor Bragonier.” Julian left the rest unsaid.

Julian’s host arched an eyebrow, thought, then said, “Because you are an excellent student and come to me recommended by my friend, I will take no offense.

“In fact, you are correct. I have made little mention of my colleague. We approached this subject in as scientific a manner as possible. He provided me with the sources of his research, but not with his conclusions. I have done the same.

“We will be meeting in Paris next week to, rather literally, compare notes. For now, he knows the early history of this while I took it from that point forward. Until next week, neither of us knows the inner thoughts of the other,” the professor concluded and threw a questioning look at Julian.

“Now it is time for you to educate me about something you said. I have of course, heard the term money laundering. I have heard the term ‘speed of light’ in the same way. The first is decidedly bad while the other is decidedly interesting if not always good. Beyond that, I confess my ignorance,” the professor concluded.

Julian relaxed slightly. His face said he needed to gain control of emotions and thoughts in full riot. “Well, professor, that is a lecture best given over lunch. Would you join me? I know of a perfect trattoria only a quick cab ride away.” Julian dangled the bait.

“Hmmmm,” the professor intoned. “Perhaps it is a subject best suited for such a place. We must be in haste though. I have another class in three hours.” He said it as though a three-hour meal was a bare minimum requirement.

The men locked the professor’s office and proceeded to the street where Julian hailed a cab. He tried at least. All of them darted by without paying any attention.

“Allow me, Mr. Blessing. This is Rome and so a subtle Roman touch is required.” The professor stepped two feet into the street and locked his eyes on the face of the next cab coming up the broad avenue. The professor snarled and the driver stood on his brakes and slid to a stop.

“Professore, good to see you,” the driver said, leaning across the front seat as Agostini slid in.

“It is nothing of the sort, Lorenzini. You despise seeing me as much as I loathe seeing you. This is what you do with the antiquities degree I gave you? You certainly didn’t earn it,” the professor said and the driver sputtered an explanation.

Julian could feel a familiar signature. He turned and greeted Gio Silvestri. Julian asked the young man to join them for lunch. Gio was genuinely pleased. Free food for a student was proof of the existence of God. And there may be wine. Evidence that God is good.

“That would be perfect, Mr. Blessing. Again I will have the chance to practice my,” the words died on his lips and he visibly paled and Julian smiled a mischievous smile.

“Oh, signore, I had forgotten. I have a class starting in a few moments and…” Gio stammered.

“Oh, this lunch promises to be more educational than any class you might have. Please, you can ride in front,” Julian said.

He stepped closer. “Signore, please. That is Agostini the Terrible in the back seat,” Gio whispered. “You are only inviting me because wherever you are going doesn’t have students on the menu. Sir, he eats undergraduates. Don’t you understand?”

“In you go,” Julian said and opened the front door. The professor was already comfortably situated and looking forward to lunch.

The taxi set off. Although it was a mild day, the driver and his front seat passenger perspired heavily.

“Giovanni Silvestri.” The professor said the name as though it was foulest thing he could think of to say to another human being. Gio did not move.

“I am talking to you, Silvestri. Is all that hair getting in the way of your hearing?” the professor sneered.

Gio turned in his seat and did a valiant job of looking surprised. “Professore, how good it is to see you again.”

“You see what we have to work with, Mr. Blessing? A graduate and one who prays to graduate and neither can tell a lie to save themselves. What good is a university education without learning that?” the professor scoffed.

“I hope you are giving a ride to this Silvestri creature out of pity,” the professor said.

“In fact, I would like Gio to join us for lunch. He is a business major and our topic will be business,” Julian said. The professor shook his head, sad, but resigned.

“What is it you Americans say? ‘There is no such thing as a free lunch?’” the professor snorted.

Julian, the professor and Gio found a table at Armando’s, a family run trattoria a few hundred yards from the Pantheon. Small and intimate, the restaurant’s wainscoting formed a stage for family photos and bad paintings of Roman scenes. White tablecloths covered green table covers while wall sconces washed diners in soft, yellow light.

The crowd was a mixture of tourists, both foreign and non-Roman Italians. All were drawn by the warm setting, the excellent service and dependable fare. An older waiter in starched white shirt and black full-length apron remained nearby Julian’s table. All of the other waiters made sure they were elsewhere. Agostini the Terrible, that was reason enough.

“A question, if I might, professor?” Julian asked. The man nodded.

“We have a waiter nearby, while no one else will come near our table,” Julian said and the old man chuckled. “What makes this waiter brave enough to risk having the soul sucked out of him or whatever it is you are said to do?”

“That is Marco Malzone. Not too long ago, he was Professor Malzone. He knows I’m not going to absorb his soul or drink his blood,” the professor said. “You see, he was a professor and not a filthy student.” The older man looked pointedly at Gio.

“Professor Malzone, but no longer?” Julian asked.

Julian’s tablemate smiled and raised his eyebrows as if the answer was obvious. “Being a waiter pays far better than being a university professor. And he has the chance to interact with people and not students who are not people at all.” Gio seemed to be absorbed in reading his menu, but winced at the way the professor said ‘students’.

They ordered and Julian began his lecture.

“Professor, thank you for allowing me to invite Gio to join us. As I say, he is a business major and the bit of business we are going to discuss is not what he would ever learn in school.

“Gio, today’s topic is money laundering. It is a painfully simple concept, but it’s execution is anything but simple,” Julian began.

“On the simple side, the object is to turn dirty money into clean money. The money is dirty because it was the result of a criminal enterprise. Clean money is that which is able to enter circulation freely and return untraceably to the criminal over time. So far, so good?”

Both the professor and the student nodded. Agostini’s nod was guarded while Gio’s was enthusiastic.

The waiter arrived with a bottle of wine and Julian poured.

“For the sake of argument, we will say Gio is the criminal in this case,” Julian said.

“Ah,” the professor said and toyed with a breadstick. “Type casting. I like this already. Do carry on.”

Julian chuckled and continued. “Gio’s criminal enterprise has brought in a lot of cash. Cash that will attract the attention of the authorities if he tries to spend it. To clean his dirty money, he must do a couple of things first.

“The stages are placement, layering and integration. Regardless of circumstances, era, level of criminality or societal differences, those stages never change.

“The object is to put as much distance as possible between the proceeds of crime and Gio. For that, he might use underground banking, a la India and parts of the Far East. He could clean his money by way of cyber attack on banking institutions. For our example though, we will stay with legitimate banks as a first step.

“All bad guys, according to the movies, have a flock of evil minions. So, let’s say twenty-five of Gio’s minions each have twenty-five accounts at twenty-five different banks around the country,” Julian said. “This is the placement stage.”

“Wait,” the professor said. “Why must the money be placed into so many banks in so many different accounts?”

“Ah, yes,” Julian answered. “Governments have tightened up on what they deem to be suspicious activities.

“No single transaction can exceed certain limits or reports must be filed with the authorities and that draws unwanted attention,” Julian answered.

“I see,” the professor said and took off his glasses to clean them. “Go on, this may yet be fascinating.”

“Absolutely. Fascinating,” Gio said before being frozen by the professor.

“Next, we have to layer the money,” Julian continued. Our purpose is to play a shell game, moving the money from one place to another, often pointlessly.

“Each layer, each move, buries the source of the money, and thus obscures Gio’s involvement further. The more Gio is being watched by one or more governments, the deeper the money has to go. It is being scrubbed with each move. So far so good?” Julian asked and his students nodded.

“Remember, Gio has minions to assist, so each is busy buying and selling things. Taking loans out against money on deposit might be one method of doing this for larger items – cars, houses and such.

“They are buying cars and houses, artwork and jewelry and investing in stocks and bonds. They may lend the money at an overly attractive rate to a legitimate business that is strapped for cash. They may form a partnership so, obliquely, Gio is now the recipient of dividends.

“Now, it is time for Gio to collect his laundry, so we are entering the integration stage. The items bought are sold slowly over time, generating clean money by circulating through the system.

“A minion bought into a carwash, let’s just say. That thing is spinning off a $100,000 a year profit. Another bought into a struggling, but very viable, chain of local pizzerias and took it nationwide. No matter what is bought in the layering phase, it is time to either sell it or start collecting dividends in the form of a proportional share of the profits. Simple, no?” Julian concluded his lecture.

“In a word, no,” the professor said tilting his head to the side as if looking at the world that way might help any of this make any sense.

“It would seem, as the money moves around, some of it is being lost. I buy something and for quick sale, sell it at a reduced price. Loan money at full face value and collect on the discounted loan. The money can’t be cleaned all that quickly, so our little criminal, Giovanni, is out the money until it returns,” the professor concluded and he squinted in concentration bordering on consternation.

“Exactly,” Julian exclaimed. “Money is lost, although not much and it often averages out. Money is lost here and made there, but mostly Gio can count on getting eighty percent of his money back. This is the cost of doing business. Remember, Gio has a minimal investment in his crime.

“Secondly, Gio will have his money back in hand in two to three years, a period of time in which the money is distancing itself from him. But keep in mind, dirty money is constantly entering the system and returning nice and clean, so there is a steady cash flow.”

Julian could sense that both of his students understood. Nearly understood. Not yet and not completely, but they were almost there.

“Okay, maybe another example would help,” Julian said. He winked at the professor and the man inclined his head slightly.

The waiter brought their food, another bottle of wine, filled water glasses, and was gone.

“For the professor, we will take it out of the present and cast ourselves back into history. We are in ancient Rome. A Roman senator finds himself in possession of a great deal of money. A very great deal of very dirty money. He knows if he begins to live lavishly and well beyond his known means, suspicion will be raised and ugly questions will be asked.

The professor didn’t move, but Gio nodded and his eyes brightened further.

“For the most part, things are greatly different in the past. There are no reporting regulations and no banks. Still the principles of money laundering must be followed if we expect to make dirty money clean,” Julian said.

Gio piped up and for the first time didn’t care what the professor said or thought. This was education. “Placement, layering and integration.”

“Exactly, Gio. Some things never change,” Julian said and then asked, “So, professor, where do we place the money?”

The professor knitted his eyebrows together. He had the pieces; he just didn’t know where they fit. “It is the center of the Empire we are talking about. Rome and a Roman senator. He can trust few and must protect himself from the rest. That is, those he doesn’t murder outright. Dead enemies are the best kind to have.”

The professor continued to think aloud. “His political allies are not his friends. His friends are not his friends. That leaves family and certainly not all of them.”

“So, gentlemen,” Julian said. “Our man spreads the wealth with trusted family members. Not too many, but enough so the spread is thin on the ground. No one person has enough to cause too much trouble, but everyone feels enriched. Now what? Your turn Gio,” Julian said.

Gio, without much thought, launched. “Well, he assigns each family member an area so they don’t get in each others way. One is tasked with buying and selling ships and cargos. Another is charged with accumulating wealth by way of investments in legitimate businesses. The senator would have inside information on the empire’s plans for expansion, so construction seems like a good business to be in.

“Another might take on the slave trade. Rare goods, luxury items would be another area. Hey, those things could be smuggled on the ships and people would pay big for that stuff.” Gio was on fire.

“One thing is missing,” the professor said. His companions looked at him. Gio’s was one of extreme interest and Julian’s was one of contentment. He knew exactly where the professor would go.

“Influence,” the professor said and Julian nodded.

“By the Madonna, that’s right,” Gio said. “Huge amounts of cash would move around and there would be no trail. Another senator is tipped off by our senator of a big score. The first senator can get that tip only if he delivers some political favor or a percentage of the profits. Christ, this could go on forever.” Gio nearly glowed and the food sat untouched on his plate.

“Let’s go forward a century or two. Now what?” Julian asked.

“Lots of people are very rich or very beholden to those who are very rich. Influence buys power and power buys more power,” the professor said. “But,” he looked thoughtful, “how is all of this held in place. To work, it depends on following a rather exact plan under strong leadership. Each player must trust his fellows. How would that be maintained for such a long period of time without breaking down? Even La Cosa Nostra has been unable to make it work.”

Julian watched his companion, sipped his wine and knew who had the answer. It was bubbling to the surface in five, four, three, two…

“Cabal,” Gio exploded with an exalted look of triumph with an infectious grin. He rushed ahead. “Yes, a secret economic, political, criminal, hell, even religious organization. The first example of truly organized crime. Still, something had to hold it all together, beyond family or leadership or even threats of death. The professor is right.” Gio looked around and lowered his voice, “La Cosa Nostra leaks like the Italian treasury.”

Julian smiled and looked into his wine glass. Gio had taken a slight detour and Julian was fine with that. “Well, that is a discussion for another time,” Julian said, but he knew the answer. He had heard the echoes, he had seen into the mist of antiquity. He knew, although he did not fully understand. The past without intervention would be the future.

The professor, with excruciating slowness, lowered his head and looked over his glasses at Gio. “A student who can think.” The professor turned his over-the-glasses gaze to Julian. “What will be next? Students who actually learn things? The world will spin off its axis and we will all tumble into space.”

Their meals had gone cold, but none of the three diners noticed as they finished their food in silence. Julian paid the check. Gio excused himself.

“I’m in this study group not far from here. I’ll just leave you and go on my…” Gio began before the professor interrupted.

“Silvestri, do not bore us with your sad excuses to mask the squalid half hearted sexual escapades of yours. Be in my office day after tomorrow ten o’clock. I need not say be on time. I may let you back into the antiquities department. And I may, yet, not kill you.”

***

The professor and Julian got into a cab for the ride back to the university.

“You have a question, Mr. Blessing? I have been doing what I do for long enough to know a question on the cusp,” the professor said and smiled at his turn of phrase, a phrase he had used often with good effect.

“We know where we began. We know where we have been. What remains, professor?” Julian asked.

The professor’s smile was smug but without conceit. Deep lines gathered at the corners of his eyes and mouth. “Professor Bragonier said I would not be disappointed with you.”

“Then both of you professors are too kind,” Julian said.

“The question you ask is the only one worth asking and, to a degree, you know the answer,” the professor said. “What we do in the present, having made discoveries from the past, allows us to rectify the future.”