The Octopus at the Vatican

# 27 - starting block

Wednesday 27 - Rome

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, for tomorrow night."

"Tonight would be better."

"Impossible. There is a shift rotation there."

"OK."

It was the transcript of a phone conversation Nancy Jones' team had just caught. Something intrigued her. She re-read it.

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, for tomorrow night."

Tomorrow is the 28th. But the president told the pope on the 29th! NASA was also listening to the line. Unofficially. She checked. The President or Burbon got the day wrong.

The attack would take place a night earlier. Did it matter? The pope had to watch everything he drank. Whatever the day. On the other hand, the message had been so clear, the date, the time, the digitalis, the evening chamomile. Perhaps the pope would drink it with no concern whilst it wasn't yet the 29th. She wasn't willing to take that risk. She checked the whereabouts of Carter. In the USSR with Brejnev. She called Paul, at NASA headquarters. He would ask the vice-president to call the pope. Paul Burbon could not be contacted till the following evening, East coast time. In any case, with the time difference, it was too tight.

Then, Nancy Jones did what she should have never done: she warned Vittorio. The attack would be next evening, not the following evening. She told him the truth. Who she worked for. Carter had known about this through her. She made him swear not to say anything. For his part, he told her about the trick to swap bodies and the plan for the pope to escape. They were quits.

Vittorio took a detour via the official entrance flanked by Swiss Guards to warn his uncle: the attack attempt and his escape were set for the next evening. Albino was surprised his nephew was so well informed.

"Don't ask, Uncle, I can't tell you. Believe my word. I am 100% sure. It's for tomorrow. Tomorrow evening, I will wait for you as arranged."

They hugged as though it would be the last time and Vittorio set off to find Nancy. They hugged too, at length and tenderly, teasing each other about their secrets. Then they went to dinner in Trastevere. The evening was so mild! After August's heatwave, the temperature in September was perfect. How far they were from shady financiers, corrupt prelates, crooks, spies and poisoners! The noise of dishing up, multiple conversations, shouts of joy provided lovely sounds on the dimmed terrace. At another table, sat their journalist friend, Alessa Lombardi, with her current boyfriend. They took their grappas and coffee together. They only talked about inconsequential things, as though the troubles they were going through had been left at the entrance, in a virtual hallway.

At the Vatican, the pope was giving final instructions to sister Vincenza, Cardinal Villot and Dr. Buzzonetti: it was going to be tomorrow evening. He signed the dismissal paperwork, with immediate effect, of Paul Marcinkus, Luigi Mannini and Peregrino de Strobel. The documents were dated the same day and were legally binding. He added the nomination decrees of three replacements, then deposited all six documents in the drawer which only the secretary of state had access to. He had a key. The pope told him where to find these papers, which would come into force on September 29.

After withdrawing, he prepared his ceremonial vestments which were going to clothe the deceased body. It had been agreed that only sister Vincenza, Cardinal Villot and Dr. Buzzonetti would dress the mannequin which would be discovered at dawn on the 29th, in bed and in his pajamas; as Albino Luciano would have settled it on the evening of the 28th. Sister Vincenza would stay awake the whole night of 28 to 29th in an armchair outside the pope's bedroom door. She would allow no-one in. Apart from Cardinal Villot and Dr. Buzzonetti, in the morning.

But meanwhile, informers of Licio Gelli were telling him what was plotted in the pope's palace. He joined bits of information: the pope could well be preparing to escape. Once again as he had done on September 5. Thinking back, Gelli was sure John Paul had had a 'diplomatic illness' from September 5 to 8. A cold had been too convenient.

An old cardinal from the Curia had spoken to him about old ancestral passages, too. It was logical, the kings of Naples had had some built in the 18th century, to get away by sea. Only Louis XIV hadn't built any at Versailles and Louis XVI had been plucked like a novice. The priest had heard vague rumors of two possible ways out. The first could be around Viale Vaticano 50, west of the Vatican, beyond the old town walls. The other possible exit was at Castel Sant'Angelo, to the east. The informer knew nothing more. He had no idea where these passages, if they existed, started from inside the Vatican. That was still something.

Licio Gelli dialed a number in Palermo.