In Rome, the black Mercedes belonging to those and such as those, swept up to the doors of the Vatican, letting Cardinals and Priests in and out all day long. Wearing their black shades they cut a pretty sight, like gangsters in drag, as their robes buffeted and billowed in the breeze. The place was heaving with tourists, bread and butter to the daily ripping off of the guilty and ashamed, as they sought forgiveness from the unseen.
Vincenzo Matreio was one such be-robed and shaded individual. There he was, rolling up in his black Mercedes to go to his usual place of work in the bowels of the quiet, cool and calm offices beneath the Vatican itself. There were rows and rows of archived materials, records, scrolls and many artefacts, from the days of the early church, literally buried here. None saw the light of day. Few knew anything about them, and none were allowed to discuss what content may or may not be held here.
VM, as he was affectionately referred to by his staff, also had a secret safe store with 5ft thick doors that were alarmed. Nobody knew what was held there, however, the job of looking after the valuables had been passed down over the centuries to very trusted Vatican officials of the highest level possible.
VM being the only one, the only eyes to view and keep in good order the contents of the safe. Not that he looked in often, just occasionally, to reassure himself that it was there, intact and safe.
He sat down at his desk and took a few papers from the tray marked ‘IN’ in big bold type. He quickly sorted through them, made a few notes on each and then pressed the buzzer for his aide who appeared like a silent wraith beside him in moments. VM briefed him on what to do with the papers and then the man was gone, quietly and seamlessly. Everything was as usual peaceful and calm.
The phone rang, he lifted the receiver, and VM heard the rather excited tones of Sebastian De Montfort speaking from France. He spoke for some time, when he could get a word in, VM gave him instructions as to how to proceed with his problem, assuring him that help would be on its way.
He replaced the phone, and had to acknowledge the gnawing feeling in his gut, that although Sebastian was making rather light of a possible breach to their secure little world, he instinctually felt that this whole situation had the potential to really rock the boat here. He must be seriously vigilant and build up the security staffing levels, and make contact with the various policemen that he had on his books - and in his pocket. Not just in Rome, but also worldwide.
This situation must be contained, or the consequent exposure could be catastrophic for the last of his Church, such as it was. And that wasn’t a lot. After the last Pope had died, they had been unable to find a suitable replacement. They were all relatively younger men. There was no one ready to die within 10 years of office. Frailty and vulnerability were keys to the situation, so that the incumbent could be manipulated and controlled. So a Pope-less church faltered on, with little or no monies coming in from a dis-affected worldwide population. The only saving grace seemed to be an emergence of Christianity in the unstable and volatile Middle East and Africa.
Things had been brought to a head of course, by the Irish Catholic Priests standing up and demanding the end to celibacy and the prohibition of women in the upper echelons of the hierarchy.
Even though only 33% of them had done so, it had brought matters out into the open once and for all. The church as it was - was no longer sustainable. Disquiet amongst those and such as those in a position of power within the hallowed walls was kept ‘sotto voce’, so that the masses were unaware of any ill effects. Above all, a front must be maintained that all is/was well. Such was the vastness of their wealth, the latter had little or no effect, however, it didn’t sit well with the hierarchy, the silent, unseen ones behind the church.
VM lifted the phone. First, to brief his aide on the jobs to be done regarding the security levels etc., and then he phoned one of the hierarchy, to brief him about this possible insurgence. It was received calmly, flicked away almost like an annoying fly settling on a table. Perhaps that’s all it was. VM felt better, his stomach settled.
Sebastian replaced the receiver. He had checked in. He had thought it best to keep the senior man posted on all of this. It spread the responsibility, his father really didn’t count any longer. Now he would get in touch with his men to find out where this tiresome woman and her friend were and what exactly they were up to now. Pains in the ass he thought.