Free The Order by Daniel Silva Page B

placed her hand briefly on Donati’s arm. “Or behind the walls of the Vatican. Saviano hated the Holy Father forhis defense of immigrants and his warnings about the dangers posed by the rise of the far right. He saw it as a direct challenge orchestrated by the Holy Father’s leftist private secretary.”
    â€œWas it?” asked Gabriel.
    Donati sipped his wine thoughtfully before answering. “The Church remained silent the last time the extreme right seized power
     in Italy and Germany. In fact, powerful elements within the Curia supported the rise of fascism and National Socialism. They
     saw Mussolini and Hitler as a bulwark against bolshevism, which was openly hostile to Catholicism. The Holy Father and I resolved
     that this time we would not make the same mistake.”
    â€œAnd now,” said Veronica Marchese, “the Holy Father is dead, and a Swiss Guard is missing.” She looked at Gabriel. “Luigi
     tells me you’ve agreed to find him.”
    Gabriel frowned at Donati, who was suddenly brushing lint from the front of his spotless cassock.
    â€œDid I speak out of turn?” asked Veronica.
    â€œNo. The archbishop did.”
    â€œDon’t be angry with him. Life in the gilded cage of the Apostolic Palace can be very isolating. The archbishop often seeks
     my advice on temporal matters. As you know, I’m rather well connected in Roman political and social circles. A woman in my
     position hears all sorts of things.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    â€œRumors,” she replied.
    â€œWhat kind of rumors?”
    â€œAbout a handsome young Swiss Guard who was spotted at a gay nightclub with a curial priest. When I told the archbishop, he
     warned me that unproven allegations can do irreparable harm to a person’s reputation, and advised me not to traffic in them.”
    â€œThe archbishop would know,” remarked Gabriel. “But one wonders why he didn’t mention any of this at lunch this afternoon.”
    â€œPerhaps he didn’t think it was relevant.”
    â€œOr perhaps he thought it would make me reluctant to help him if I thought I was going to get involved in a Vatican sex scandal.”
    Gabriel’s phone pulsed against his heart. It was a message from King Saul Boulevard.
    â€œSomething wrong?” asked Donati.
    â€œIt appears as though Janson’s file was deleted from the Swiss Guard’s computer network a few hours after the Holy Father’s
     death.” Gabriel exchanged a glance with Chiara, who was suppressing a smile. “My colleagues at Unit 8200 are now searching
     the system’s backup.”
    â€œWill they find anything?”
    â€œComputer files are a bit like sin, Excellency.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œThey can be absolved, but they never really go away.”
    Â 
    They had dinner on the palazzo’s magnificent rooftop terrace, beneath gas heaters that burned the chill from the night air. It was a traditional Roman meal, spinach ravioli topped with butter and sage, followed by roasted veal and fresh vegetables. The conversation flowed as easily as the three bottles of vintage Brunello that Veronica unearthed from Carlo’s cellar. Donati seemed perfectly at ease in his black clerical armor, with Veronica at his right hand and the lights of Rome glowing softly behind him. It might have been broken and filthy and hopelessly corrupt, but viewed from Veronica Marchese’s terrace, with theair clear and crisp and scented with the aroma of cooking, Gabriel thought it was the most beautiful city in the world.
    Carlo’s name was never spoken over dinner, and there was no hint of the violence and scandal that bound them. Donati speculated
     on the outcome of the conclave but avoided the subject of Lucchesi’s death. Mainly, he seemed to hang on Veronica’s every
     word. The affection between them was painfully obvious. Donati was walking along the edge of an Alpine crevasse.