The Order by Daniel Silva Read Free Book Online Page A

find it suspicious that a man with a failing heart died on the one night of the week you weren’t in the Apostolic Palace.”
    Donati said nothing.
    â€œSurely there’s more than that.”
    â€œYes,” said Donati as he plucked another leaf from the artichoke. “Much more.”

7
Ristorante Piperno, Rome
    There was, for a start, the phone call from Cardinal Albanese. It arrived nearly two hours after the camerlengo said he had found the Holy
     Father dead in the private chapel. Albanese claimed to have called Donati several times without receiving an answer. Donati
     had checked his phone. There were no missed calls.
    â€œSounds like an open-and-shut case. Next?”
    The condition of the papal study, answered Donati. Shutters and curtains closed. A half-drunk cup of tea on the desk. One
     item missing.
    â€œWhat was it?”
    â€œA letter. A personal letter. Not official.”
    â€œLucchesi was the recipient?”
    â€œThe author.”
    â€œAnd the contents of the letter?”
    â€œHis Holiness refused to tell me.”
    Gabriel was not sure the archbishop was being entirely truthful. “I assume the letter was written in longhand?”
    â€œThe Vicar of Christ doesn’t use a word processor.”
    â€œTo whom was it addressed?”
    â€œAn old friend.”
    Donati then described the scene he encountered when Cardinal Albanese led him into the papal bedroom. Gabriel pictured the
     tableau as though it were rendered in oil on canvas by the hand of Caravaggio. The body of a dead pontiff stretched upon the
     bed, watched over by a trio of senior prelates. At the right side of the canvas, scarcely visible in the shadows, were three
     trusted laymen: the pope’s personal physician, the chief of the Vatican’s small police force, and the commandant of the Pontifical
     Swiss Guard. Gabriel had never met Dr. Gallo, but he knew Lorenzo Vitale, and liked him. Alois Metzler was another story.
    Gabriel’s private Caravaggio dissolved, as though washed away by solvent. Donati was recounting Albanese’s explanation of
     having found, and then moved, the corpse.
    â€œFrankly, it’s the one part of his story that’s plausible. My master was quite diminutive, and Albanese has the body of an
     ox.” Donati was silent for a moment. “Of course, there is at least one other explanation.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œThat His Holiness never made it to the chapel. That he died at his desk in the study while drinking his tea. It was gone
     when I came out of the bedroom. The tea, that is. Someone removed the cup and saucer while I was praying over Lucchesi’s body.”
    â€œI don’t suppose it underwent a postmortem examination.”
    â€œThe Vicar of Christ—”
    â€œWas it embalmed?”
    â€œI’m afraid so. Wojtyla’s body turned quite gray while it was on display in the basilica. And then there was Pius XII.” Donati
     winced. “A disaster, that. Albanese said he didn’t want to take any chances. Or perhaps he was just covering his tracks. After
     all, if a body is embalmed, it would make it much harder to find any trace of poison.”
    â€œYou really need to stop watching those forensic shows on television, Luigi.”
    â€œI don’t own a television.”
    Gabriel allowed a moment to pass. “As I recall, there are no security cameras in the loggia outside the private apartments.”
    â€œIf there were cameras, the apartments wouldn’t be private, would they?”
    â€œBut there must have been a Swiss Guard on duty.”
    â€œAlways.”
    â€œSo he would have seen anyone entering the apartments?”
    â€œPresumably.”
    â€œDid you ask him?”
    â€œI never had the chance.”
    â€œDid you express your concerns to Lorenzo Vitale?”
    â€œAnd what would Lorenzo have done? Investigate the death of a pope as a possible homicide?”