San Vittore prison sat in the heart of Milan, the high-walled, depressing chunk of concrete housing some of Italy’s most notorious prisoners. Milan itself, enveloped in rich history, known for its fashion and fine cuisine as well as its art galleries, museums, its rich culture, and the archetypal Duomo di Milano, the world’s largest and most spectacular Gothic cathedral, as well as sprawling world-class shopping and picture-perfect cafés, did its best to ignore the eyesore that sat just a few short miles from its classical core.
Mason and the others landed at Malpensa airport and made the journey to the prison in just over an hour. By the time they parked up in the tight visitor car park and walked to the entrance, Premo Conte had worked his magic. The officer in reception told them they’d been given special dispensation to interview an inmate named Oliver Madstone, who had been Marduk’s cellmate for almost two months.
They kicked their heels in reception for twenty minutes before being led deeper into the prison, the resounding clash of every cage door closing behind them further dampening their spirits as they advanced through the cheerless void. Eventually they were shown into an interview room, where there were only two chairs – one for the prisoner and one for the interviewer – so only Sally got a seat.
Roxy shivered as they waited in silence. ‘Any ideas how we’re gonna approach this, guys?’
‘Carefully,’ Quaid said.
‘We have nothing to offer him,’ Sally said. ‘Are we counting on the goodness of his heart?’
‘He doesn’t know that,’ Mason said. ‘And maybe he’ll want to talk about Marduk. You know how that clown can rub people up the wrong way.’
‘A prisoner is going to want something from this,’ Hassell said.
At that moment, the far door clicked and then swung open. A guard led a man clad in jeans and a T-shirt into the room. The man’s hands were cuffed at his back. Oliver Madstone was a big guy, thick around the waist and the neck, with chubby jowls that wobbled as he walked. His eyes were inset in the flesh of his face and gave the impression that someone else was peering out from beneath the skin, an impostor. Madstone waited until the guard removed his handcuffs and then secured them around a bar that ran down the centre of the table. The guard withdrew. Madstone stared at them.
‘The fuck is this?’ he asked. ‘More visitors in this room than I’ve had in five years.’
‘You’re English?’ The south London accent surprised Sally.
‘Last time I checked. Why, you wanna get closer; have a better look?’ Madstone grinned lewdly.
Sally ignored the vulgarity, but leaned away. Mason put his hands on the back of her chair. ‘We came here to ask you a few questions,’ he said.
‘Ask away. Take your time. Anything is better than what I have to look forward to.’
‘Did you share a cell with a man named Marduk?’
Madstone pulled an unhappy face. ‘That loony? Yeah, for my sins.’
‘I bet he never shut up,’ Roxy said, trying to build a little rapport with the prisoner. ‘Kept banging on about the Amori, the Church. All kinds of crap.’
‘Day and night,’ Madstone told them. ‘If I was a violent man, I’d have throttled him. Luckily for him, I’m in here for fraud.’
‘Can you give us an idea of what he talked about?’ Sally asked.
‘Said he was some kind of monarch,’ Madstone snorted. ‘Then … hey wait, what do I get out of all this?’
‘A bit of revenge,’ Mason said. ‘On a man who made your life a misery.’
Madstone glared. ‘Is that it? No minimum security? No reduced time? No commissary boost?’
‘I can help with one of those,’ Sally said. ‘A little boost into your prison account.’
‘Is that it? I don’t need to talk to you guys at all.’
Roxy leaned forward. ‘Hey man,’ she said. ‘You’re not a bad guy. Not a killer like half the other guys in here. Don’t block yourself off mentally as well as physically. You could help many people by talking to us.’
Madstone shifted his weight, jowls wobbling. ‘You sound like you’ve been in the same situation.’
‘Not exactly, I admit,’ Roxy said. ‘But I know sharing helps when the Devil’s calling. You need help. Remember this – you can’t slay demons on your own.’
Madstone stared appraisingly at her. ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he mused. ‘There are days when I believe my inner voice wants to kill me. In here …’ he shivered ‘… there are all kinds of monsters. And, believe me, we’re all very much alone.’
‘Then take it when you can get it,’ Roxy said. ‘Another motto of mine. We’re here right now. We can at least make your life a little more comfortable.’
Madstone sat back and sighed. ‘Thing is,’ he said. ‘This guy, Marduk, he never stopped talking, greasing his own wheels, you know. At first, I feigned interest because the guy seemed harmless enough, and his chatter at least helped pass the time. But then he wanted me to join his damn cult.’ Madstone shook his head.
‘Cult?’ Sally asked.
‘You mentioned it. The Amori. Called himself “the monarch of the Amori”. If you ask me, the guy was a crackpot.’
‘For sure,’ Roxy said. ‘He is. What else did he say?’
‘Kept rambling on about the old days, like he was part of it thousands of years ago. How he intended to destroy the Church, to ruin the Vatican, that kind of thing.’
Mason interrupted. ‘Ruin the Vatican. Those were his exact words?’
‘Yeah, yeah, that’s what he said.’
Mason wondered at the choice of words. Did it mean something? Of course, with Marduk, it was difficult to tell.
‘This Marduk, he told me about how Jesus Christ was this noble warrior. How the Amori had manipulated and controlled the way he died. He spoke of the Church’s brilliant cover-up, its Bible full of lies, the finding of Christ’s body years ago. Is it all true?’
‘I wouldn’t know anything about that,’ Mason said quickly.
‘Well, he spoke with all the zeal of a fanatic. He believes it, you can be sure. Apparently, he came close to revealing the great secret to the world, but had the opportunity snatched from his hands.’
Mason kept quiet, his face placid, thankful that the others did the same.
‘Anyway, the only other names he mentioned apart from the Amori, the Church and the Vatican were this pair of thieves he knew – Cassa, something and Ivana.’
‘Cassadaga?’ Quaid said.
‘That’s the boy, yes. Cassadaga. Apparently, these two were the worst of the worst, which to Marduk means they’re the best in the world.’ Madstone shook his head again.
Mason felt a trickle of eagerness. This was what they had come here to learn. The connection between Cassadaga, Ivana and Marduk was vital. ‘Anything you can tell us about them would help.’
Madstone glanced at Sally, as if wondering how much more he could get on his commissary, but then eyed Roxy as if weighing her earlier words. In the end, he continued, ‘Like I said, Marduk loved them. Kept regaling me with tales of the great murderer and his sidekick. Made me want to throw up. Anyway, Marduk was desperate to contact Cassadaga.’
‘That would be next to impossible even for a man of Marduk’s reach,’ Quaid said. ‘Daga is a ghost.’
‘Not exactly,’ Madstone said. ‘Marduk has ways of contacting everyone. He kept in touch with many of his followers whilst he was inside. Called them his Faithful. Told me they worshipped him and would do anything for him. Anything. “My Faithful would commit the ultimate sacrifice if I ordered it,” he once told me. There are some crazy people in this world.’
Mason looked at the walls of the room they were inside and thought of some of the people just beyond it. ‘Too many,’ he said.
‘So this crazy Daga and his partner, Ivana, are contactable in just one way. Apparently, Marduk has done so before?’
Mason remembered now that it was Marduk who had introduced Daga the first time, sending him to kill those monks in the monastery and steal the body of Jesus Christ.
‘He would know,’ Mason said carefully.
‘Marduk rambled on a lot about it,’ Madstone told them. ‘I don’t think the guy exactly trusted me. It was more that he got used to me being there, like I was a part of the furniture, or something.’
‘What did he say?’ Quaid asked.
‘There’s a man in Paris, a real evil old goat, who facilitates just about every monstrous act you can think of. Guy’s called Bellaire and apparently known only in certain circles. He’s survived this long and shouldn’t be underestimated, you know?’
Mason saw Madstone give them a quick glance and thought that the guy might actually be worried for them. Compassion from a San Vittore prisoner, he thought. You see everything in this job.
‘Any clue how we would find this Bellaire?’ Hassell asked.
‘To the average person, he’s as hard to track down as Cassadaga,’ Madstone said. ‘Or Marduk, for that matter. But when you’ve been living in a cage with a madman for weeks, just the two of you, you tend to hear everything at least a dozen times.’
‘Tell us,’ Sally said.
‘It’s standard protocol,’ Madstone said, shrugging and fixing his tiny eyes on them. ‘It’s all about code words, you see. You go visit a jewellery shop in Clichy and try to buy a special watch. The jeweller is called Vintage Honoré, the watch is a 1946 Arnstadt, which doesn’t actually exist. Bellaire, the jeweller, will then speak to you.’
Mason thought about all that. ‘And Bellaire can contact Daga?’
‘Yes, he sets up the meet, or at least a conversation, once he’s vetted you and only then if he likes you for it.’
‘You’re talking about tracking down one of the deadliest men in the world,’ Quaid said.
‘Tracking down Daga would lead us to Marduk,’ Roxy said.
‘Tracking down Daga is an insane vision,’ Sally said with genuine fear in her voice. ‘I don’t have to tell you how dangerous he is.’
‘How the hell did Marduk accomplish all this in here?’ Mason asked, nodding at the walls.
Madstone shrugged. ‘Isn’t it obvious? Money. The guy kept on babbling about dwindling funds, about not having enough to accomplish everything, but he sure knew how to grease palms in here.’
‘So he’s running out of money?’ Mason said. ‘That’s good.’
‘Not necessarily,’ Madstone said. ‘Marduk had another scheme. Sounded whackier even than all the other crap that leaked out of his mouth. Said he was looking for some ziggurat in Babylon – can’t remember the name.’
‘Why would he want to look for a ziggurat in Babylon?’ Sally asked.
‘A fortune.’ Madstone shrugged. ‘Believe me, by this time I’d stopped listening to the non-stop drivel. You see, I’m the kind of guy who retains everything. I don’t forget. Listening to someone like Marduk can seriously affect my mental health.’
‘Marduk’s been on the run long enough to do all that,’ Hassell said. ‘We can’t affect where he goes, just where he’ll end up.’
‘The ziggurat had something to do with the Tower of Babel if that helps,’ Madstone told them. ‘I remember because I used to think he wouldn’t stop babbling. It used to make me smile.’ The prisoner turned away briefly.
‘Connected with ancient Babylon,’ Sally said. ‘The Tower of Babel is an old legend and a pretty impressive piece of engineering for the time. Many believe it is the Etemenanki ziggurat.’
Madstone started nodding. ‘I think that’s the name he used. Do you think he went there?’
‘It’s something to check,’ Mason said. ‘Along with this Bellaire character. I still think finding Daga will lead us to Marduk.’
‘Not only that,’ Roxy said. ‘But Daga needs removing from the face of the earth. I’d class that as another good deed well done.’
Mason agreed, but said nothing. Madstone looked talked out, like he’d told them everything he knew. There was an expression of foreboding on his face, as if he feared having to return to general population.
Sally leaned forward briefly. ‘Thanks for your help,’ she said. ‘I’ll make sure you get that commissary top-up.’
Madstone nodded at them and attempted a smile.
‘Who’s up for visiting an evil old man?’ Roxy said as they rose to their feet.
‘Anything that brings us closer to Marduk,’ Mason said.
‘Strangely, it’s not Marduk that worries me in that scenario,’ Quaid said. ‘It’s Cassadaga.’