‘Cardinal Sforza will see you now, Cardinal Brentano,’ said the elderly nun with the hooked, witch-like chin.
Seated behind his plain walnut desk, Sforza tried to appear somber, trying to disguise his contentment as Brentano walked in. With Brentano’s removal from the Curia, a large power vacuum had been created, a vacuum Sforza intended to fill personally.
Brentano looked as if he hadn’t slept all week. His usually piercing eyes, now encircled by red rims, had dulled to a viscous green. Sforza couldn’t help noticing that the furrows on either side of Brentano’s mouth had deepened noticeably. He looked ten years older than his 65 years. Now ousted from the Curia, Brentano’s authority had all but evaporated. Both knew it and the relationship of former equals had changed forever. Yet Brentano still wielded a significant amount of influence. It was said that he managed to exert that influence by dubious means. Stories were rampant that he kept personal, secret files on everyone of influence. Even on the Pope. Sforza knew that to underestimate such a man would be a grave mistake.
‘How are you?’ said Sforza in a mechanical tone, not really wishing to know the state of his former adversary’s health.
‘Tired. I will not hide from you that these past few days have been
extremely stressful.’
‘I understand.’ Sforza had to be compassionate, but not overly so. To
show too much sympathy would appear hypocritical.
‘Let me get to the point,’ said Brentano. ‘There are rumors circulating
about a movement to depose the Pope.’
‘I’ve heard of it.’ Sforza felt no need to inform Brentano of the extent
of his involvement.
‘Am I wrong in thinking that you support this view?’
‘The matter is under serious consideration by the Curia.’
‘Come, come Cardinal, I’ve heard that you’re one of the instigators,’
said Brentano, his tone caustic.
‘Cardinal, you surely didn’t come here to tell me what you already
know,’ said Sforza. ‘You have surely considered that you will need
support from inside and outside the Vatican for such a procedure to
succeed.’
Ah. Here it comes. The offer of his support in exchange for mine
later, in his bid for the papacy, thought Sforza. ‘Yes I have.’
There was a brief moment of silence, as Sforza waited for Brentano’s
pitch.
‘You are undoubtedly also aware that once the procedure is started, it
will paralyze the Vatican for the duration of the proceedings?’
‘Perhaps, although unlikely.’
Another moment of uneasy silence. Like gladiators before the fight,
each man wanted to know where the other stood before compromising
his own position.
Brentano yielded first. ‘The papacy can’t stand to be paralyzed for
six months, maybe more. We are at a crossroads. If you are part of this,
I ask that you reconsider. I will not support any movement to depose
Clement XXI. As a matter of fact, I will oppose it.’
‘Really?’ Sforza sat astounded, as Brentano stood impassive, staring
down at him.
‘I thought this might surprise you,’ said Brentano. ‘But you fail to see
that the papacy itself is at stake here, Cardinal. It goes beyond differing
views on dogma. If you undertake this, it will take years to come to any
kind of resolution. The Church is already weak enough. It can’t take yet
another schism within its ranks. That will kill it as surely as I stand here before you. I ask you to reconsider, Cardinal, in the name of the papacy, in the name of the Church. Let the ecumenical council take a decision on this matter. I always find that it is easy to let things take their natural course, down the path of least resistance, rather than force the issue. Do you agree?’
Sforza sat silent, his mouth agape. Here was a man who had recently suffered the humiliation of being removed from the Curia by the Pope and that would have given him every reason to embrace the movement to depose him. Brentano was the last person, Sforza thought, to oppose the Pope’s removal. ‘The movement has gathered a lot of momentum already. I don’t think it can be stopped,’ said Sforza, now knowing what he wanted to know. He looked at his watch. ‘I’m afraid I must cut our meeting short, Cardinal Brentano, I have a Curia meeting in ten minutes.’
As Brentano walked down the corridor outside Sforza’s office, a warm feeling of deep satisfaction invaded his being. The opening gambit had worked: Sforza had taken the bait and had appeared genuinely shaken. Moments later, Brentano entered his new, minuscule office, went straight to his desk and picked up the phone.
Dulac waited on the line while at the other end, the phone kept ringing. After a moment, he heard Gina’s familiar voice came online.
‘Good morning, Gina. How are things?’
‘Fine, Mr Dulac.’
‘Any news on de Ségur?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘How is Lescop doing?’
‘I’m really not the one to ask. Why don’t you contact him directly?’ She didn’t sound the least bit sympathetic.
‘Just wondering if you’d heard anything. I have a question for you, Gina. Suppose you wanted to find out if someone is being impersonated by another, and you didn’t have fingerprints or DNA samples to compare. What would you use?’
‘Well, we’d probably do a morphological analysis of the body and the head. Then, we’d do an iris recognition scan. It’s more trustworthy than fingerprints.’
‘Interesting. How close would the scanner have to be from the persons you’d be comparing?’
‘With the new OnSight scanner, about two meters.’
‘Not possible. What else?’
‘Mr Dulac, I really don’t have time to—’
‘What else?’
‘There’s the good old voice analyzer.’
‘Gina, let me buy you lunch.’
‘Today?’
‘I can be in Lyon before 2 p.m.’
‘Well, I don’t know. I—’
‘Thanks, Gina. You’re terrific.’
After making reservations at the St Amable, Dulac had taken the 11.54 am TGV train to Lyon. Sitting with Gina, sipping their glasses of rosé, Dulac waited for the waiter to leave before dropping the bomb.
‘What? The Pope an impostor?’ exclaimed Gina, her dark eyes sparkling with disbelief and indignation. ‘You’ve taken me away from my full workload to tell me that?’
‘I know it sounds a bit crazy, but just bear with me a moment.’
‘You really need a rest, Mr Dulac.’
‘Just listen to me for a moment, Gina. There are too many inconsistencies, too many coincidences. I just need a bit of tangible evidence.’
‘Even if I were to agree, I can’t do a voice analyzer test without proper authorization. Besides, use of the equipment must be logged. I can just imagine Mr Schwarz’s reaction if—’
‘But you could get access to the voice files.’
‘Even if I could, there’s no guarantee the recordings would be of good enough quality to make a reliable comparison. There are so many variables and factors.’ She paused, then continued. ‘This is completely off the wall, Mr Dulac, even for you.’
‘You’re probably right. But what have we got to lose? If the voice samples all match, end of story. You’ll have spent a couple of hours—’
‘More like a couple of days on a wild, crazy goose chase. I’d have to dig out recordings of His Holiness’s past speeches, compare them with his recent ones, get at least three different sources of each of the samples.’ She crossed her arms. ‘No, definitely not. I don’t have that kind of spare time when my schedule is quiet, never mind now. Besides, the voice analyzer isn’t a universally accepted detection tool.’
‘I don’t need bulletproof evidence, Gina. I just need something to work with. Something I can sink my teeth into. By the way, the Pope or whoever he is will be giving a special address tomorrow in St Peter’s Square. You could get a fresh sample.’
‘You’re really hung up on this. What other evidence do you have?’
‘None. You’re my only hope, Gina.’