Free James Acton 03 - Broken Dove by J Robert Kennedy Page B

clues? Anything?” Reading’s mouth was spouting whatever he could think of, his anxiousness removing the brain-mouth filter. He took a deep breath. “Tell me where you’re at in the investigation.”
    Giasson frowned. “Almost nowhere. We’re searching the entire grounds, top to bottom, even in sections long closed off. Basements, attics, sewers, everything. As well, we’re reviewing any security footage we have, the Roma Police are doing the same, checking cameras, tickets issued, interviewing their men to see if they saw anything unusual. So far nothing.”
    Reading shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered.
    “All we know is His Holiness went to bed at his regular hour, his staff confirming this. His bed was slept in, but his room was empty at one a.m. last night when we entered. No one has reported seeing him leave his room, and we have no cameras in the residential quarters. All we know for certain at this point, is that he didn’t leave the quarters through any of the known entrances, and he ordered his customary guard dismissed until the morning.”
    “Dismissing the guard. Is that unusual?”
    “Unheard of.”
    Reading leaned forward, his interest piqued further. “And known entrances?”
    “This city is old, built in a different time, a paranoid time. There are secret passageways and hidden doors, throughout. We know of many of them, but there could be others we are simply not aware of.”
    “So you don’t even know if he just wandered off, or if he was taken.”
    Giasson shook his head. “No, not for certain, however I lean toward the latter.”
    “Why?”
    Giasson lifted a folder off his desk and handed it to Reading. “This was found taped to the outer wall last night.”
    Reading took the folder and flipped it open. He gasped, his jaw dropping. Inside was a single sheet of paper with the symbol of the Triarii, crossed out in red.
    Somebody knows the Pope is Triarii!

 
     
    Corpo della Gendarmeria Office
    Palazzo del Governatorato, Vatican City
     
    Father Morris looked pale, the old man probably approaching the age of his charge, the Pope. But he had been the executive assistant for three popes, and Reading was sure he had no interest in fulfilling the same job for a fourth. He sensed no fear from the man, no guilt, simply worry. They both looked up as Giasson reentered the office, handing the trembling man a glass of water, then closing the door behind him. Reading sat casually in his chair, and Giasson took up a similar posture on a couch lining a portion of the back wall, both trying to keep the man at ease.
    “Is there anything out of the ordinary you can tell us about His Holiness’ meeting with DI Chaney?” asked Giasson
    Father Morris nodded, lowering the glass from his lips. “The entire meeting was quite out of the ordinary.”
    “In what way?”
    “First, I never arranged it. Usually if His Holiness wants to meet someone, he asks me to contact them and arrange a meeting. In this case, I had no involvement, and was merely told to expect him the next day, and that when he arrived, to have him sent in immediately.” He took another sip from the glass. “He also had me clear his morning schedule.”
    “And that’s unusual?” asked Reading. “Clearing the schedule, I mean?”
    Father Morris’ head bobbed. “Absolutely. His Holiness never cancelled a meeting. In fact, I cannot recall any of the Pope’s I’ve had the honor to serve cancelling a meeting unless there was an illness or emergency of some sort. In this case, there was no indication of any emergency.”
    “Anything else?”
    Father Morris looked away and shifted in his chair. He raised the glass then lowered it without drinking. He looked from one man to the other. “Do you really think he’s in danger?”
    Giasson nodded. “Absolutely.”
    Father Morris sighed. “Very well. What I’m about to tell you cannot leave this room. Ever. You must swear to God himself that what I am about to tell you will