The Order by Daniel Silva Read Free Book Online

state.”
    â€œWhy so much secrecy?”
    â€œBecause if the rest of the Curia had known about Lucchesi’s physical decline, his papacy would have been effectively over.
     He had much work to do in the time he had left.”
    â€œWhat sort of work?”
    â€œHe was considering calling a third Vatican council to address the many profound issues facing the Church. The conservative
     wing is still coming to terms with Vatican II, which was completed more than a half century ago. A third council would have
     been divisive, to put it mildly.”
    â€œWhat happened after you gave Lucchesi his medicine?”
    â€œI went downstairs, where my car and driver were waiting. It was nine o’clock, give or take a few minutes.”
    â€œWhere did you go?”
    Donati reached for his wineglass. “You know, you really should try some of this. It’s quite good.”
    Â 
    The arrival of the antipasti granted Donati a second reprieve. While plucking the first leaf from the fried Roman artichoke, he asked with contrived carelessness,
     “You remember Veronica Marchese, don’t you?”
    â€œLuigi . . .”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œBless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
    â€œIt’s not like that.”
    â€œIsn’t it?”
    Dr. Veronica Marchese was the director of the Museo Nazionale Etrusco and Italy’s foremost authority on Etruscan civilization
     and antiquities. During the 1980s, while working on an archaeological dig near the Umbrian village of Monte Cucco, she fell
     in love with a fallen priest, a Jesuit, a fervent advocate of liberation theology, who had lost his faith while serving as
     a missionary in the Morazán Province of El Salvador. The affair ended abruptly when the fallen priest returned to the Church
     to serve as the private secretary to the Patriarch of Venice. Heartbroken, Veronica married Carlo Marchese, a wealthy Roman
     businessman from a noble family with close ties to the Vatican. Marchese had died after falling from the viewing gallery atop
     the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica. Gabriel had been standing next to Carlo when he toppled over the protective barrier. Two
     hundred feet below, Donati had prayed over his broken body.
    â€œHow long has this been going on?” asked Gabriel.
    â€œI’ve always loved that song,” replied Donati archly.
    â€œAnswer the question.”
    â€œNothing is going on . But I’ve been having dinner with her on a regular basis for a year or so.”
    â€œOr so?”
    â€œMaybe it’s more like two years.”
    â€œI assume you two don’t dine in public.”
    â€œNo,” answered Donati. “Only in Veronica’s home.”
    Gabriel and Chiara had attended a party there once. It was an art-and-antiquity-filled palazzo near the Villa Borghese. “How
     often?” he asked.
    â€œBarring a work emergency, every Thursday evening.”
    â€œThe first rule of illicit behavior is to avoid a pattern.”
    â€œThere is nothing illicit about Veronica and me having dinner together. The discipline of celibacy does not forbid all contact with women. I simply
     can’t marry her or—”
    â€œAre you allowed to be in love with her?”
    â€œStrictly speaking, yes.”
    Gabriel stared at Donati with reproach. “Why willingly place yourself in such close proximity to temptation?”
    â€œVeronica says I do it for the same reason I used to climb mountains, to see whether I can maintain my footing. To see whether
     God will reach down and catch me if I fall.”
    â€œI assume she’s discreet.”
    â€œHave you ever met anyone more discreet than Veronica Marchese?”
    â€œAnd what about your colleagues at the Vatican?” asked Gabriel. “Did anyone know?”
    â€œIt is a small place filled with sexually repressed men who love nothing more than to exchange a good piece of gossip.”
    â€œWhich is why you