Shout in the Dark

  Chapter 11

  MARCO SAT IN the leather armchair in Father Josef's room and read the German neo-Nazi's note through twice.

  The property stolen by the Church from the German People in 1944 has now been reclaimed. The people deserve better than a shabby secrecy surrounding major relics. The true image of Jesus Christ, the most significant religious figure in the world, is now safely in the hands of the ADR, a group pledged to set up a Shrine of Unity free from the taint of Jewish tradition.

  "The emblem of the New Cross will be a rallying place for the pure, a fortress for the defense of the strong, and a bastion for denouncing the weak and inferior. The Spirit of the Hero will draw all people of the pure race to unity in a new Power, a new Reich.

  Father Josef interrupted his reading. "The Spirit of the Hero was part of Hitler's Weltanschauung, Marco, his search for our Indo-Germanic roots. These quickly became known as our Aryan-Nordic roots: a quest for a mythical tribe in the north, having a special relationship with God from prehistory."

  "I thought that was the Jews."

  "So it was, Marco, but the Nazis claimed the Jews were the Aryans' enemy. The serpent's seed. We did not want to hear true teaching in the Church in Nazi Germany. Positive Christianity we called Hitler's ideas on religion. When I say we, I too was drawn into believing that doctrine. I know now that it is, of course, bestemmia -- blasphemy -- but it appealed to many of us at the time. The New Cross is nothing more than the Swastika. Hitler wanted to prove that Christ came from a non Jewish background. This is a revival of his New German Faith Movement."

  "And you and other people seriously believed him?" Marco was astonished.

  "We had been indoctrinated by experts. We wanted it to be true. Of course I can see it now as a complete contradiction of New Testament teaching and beliefs. Jesus claimed to be the Messiah, the Jewish leader sent by God. The name Christ means Messiah. He went further than that. He claimed to be the Son of God who would die for the sins of the world. Some of the Jews accepted him. Others did not, and they crucified him. The first Christians were Jews. The Holy Spirit had to show the New Testament Church that Jesus had come for everybody, and they must go out and share their faith with the whole world. They found it difficult at first."

  Marco began to feel uneasy. "The New Faith Movement turns the Christian gospel of love and forgiveness on its head."

  "You are right, of course, Marco. These are some of the worst philosophies of today's neo-Nazi groups. But make no mistake, if they can put the true likeness of Christ on show, many people -- good people -- will feel compelled to be present at such an event."

  "How can anyone in the neo-Nazi movement hope to display a bronze head of Christ, a stolen work of art?" protested Marco. "The authorities would come down on them as soon as they opened the doors to the public. It would be like the Tate in London stealing the Mona Lisa from the Louvre, then hanging it in one of their galleries. People are going to notice."

  "And who exactly would it have been stolen from, young man?"

  Marco laughed. The answer seemed obvious. "The Vatican, I imagine."

  Father Reinhardt shook his head. "The bronze head destroyed at TV Roma was the only one our Cardinal will admit to the Church ever owning. He has even prepared a press statement for release today, denying we ever had any other."

  "Could TV Roma claim it was stolen from them?"

  "It was only on loan to them, so they could make no claim."

  Marco tried again. "What about the monastery who once owned it?"

  "I have no idea where it is."

  "Canon Angelo would have known..."

  "Angelo Levi has been dead for eighteen years, Marco. Certainly no monastery has ever complained that they lost such a precious relic."

  "Okay," agreed Marco, "so who does own it?"

  "I would think that the person who possesses it has a better title than anyone else. The eventual owners in Berlin -- if this fascist group succeeds in its plans -- could easily disassociate themselves from the violence at TV Roma. The political wing of a terrorist group never takes the blame for terrorist atrocities. The fascists could say a renegade group committed the crime, and claim that they now own the genuine head. And who could take legal action against them?"

  Marco laughed. "Most of the Nazis would be too old to know what to do with it."

  Josef Reinhardt sighed softly. "Do not think of today's neo-Nazis as a group of tired old men listening to Wagner, while trying to relive the so-called glory days. That sort of thing only happens in films. These people are young and powerful, Marco."

  Marco raised his eyebrows. "Who are they?"

  "Clever politicians with ambitions for a new Reich, a new empire. They want to cleanse Germany -- cleanse Europe."

  Marco was on his feet. "Cleanse? Like they did with the Jews?"

  Father Josef held up his hands as though to restrain Marco. "That would be their view. It is probably their sole aim. Many people throughout Europe in the Nazi years had good reason to fear for their lives. It was not only Jews who were eliminated. Homosexuals. Gypsies. The congenitally infirm. Communists. Himmler set up a center of the occult at Castle Wewelsburg with his twelve disciples. He thought Christian relics could control the future. Religion is a powerful force."

  "It was a long time ago."

  "There are over two billion people in the world today who belong to various branches of the Christian faith. Two thousand million. Many of them would be thrown into confusion by a skillful mix of Christianity and the occult. Many would expect such a relic to have mystical properties, and the neo-Nazis would be quick to exploit this expectation. Control even one part of the Church, and you could control hundreds of millions of followers. It is not an impossible dream for the fascist movement, even in today's secular society. You can forget about old Nazis wanting to revive the Third Reich. There will be new conversions, new beginnings. 'See,' the people will say, 'here is Christ, so this teaching must be part of the truth.'"

  "The Church leaders would react immediately," insisted Marco.

  Father Josef shook his head. "As they did in the thirties? Oh, I have many regrets for the small part I played as a youth in assisting the Nazi system in the war. But this will go beyond the Church, Marco. Non-believers will be caught up. The face of Christ would be of historical as well as religious interest. A rallying place for the pure? What does that mean? Can you imagine the division if there is a selection process for those entitled to see the face? The humiliation of those denied access, and the pride of those admitted. Divide, weaken, destroy. The Third Reich managed to do it successfully with the Christian Church in Germany."

  "Then it's a good thing the neo-Nazis don't have the relic." Marco attempted a laugh.

  The old priest stared disconcertingly. "Do you really think they have given up their search?"

  Marco passed the note back to Father Josef. "I think the person who wrote this is mad."

  "Mad, possibly." Father Josef replaced it in the file. "But it is a compelling form of madness, and it could easily reignite the flames of Nazism throughout Europe. I have seen it happen before. The Church and the Nazis in tacit union. It is an obscenity."

  Marco frowned. "I don't understand the Eternal Leaders bit. Jesus and Hitler?"

  "In confidence I can tell you that there are fascist plans to reconstruct the head of Hitler, using clay and fragments of his skull. Those of us in Germany in the last war remember hailing the man as our eternal leader, forming an eternal kingdom. It is strange how many memories those words have stirred up within me."

  "Why eternal? Hitler is long dead."

  "The man, but not his influence. There are untold numbers of his followers -- mostly young ones who never knew him -- who believe that a new world is within their reach."

  "How do they hope to do that?"

  "Purge Germany of foreign workers and refugees. Purge Europe of everyone they see as undesirable. Give power to a master race, with financial supremacy. The Führer may be gone, bu
t his teachings and the teachings of his disciples live on."

  "It's not just Europe," said Marco, his memories now stirred. "Doesn't America have a strong neo-Nazi movement?"

  "Indeed it does. Ten years ago, eighty-five percent of the illegal neo-Nazi literature circulating in Germany came from the United States. Russia, too, has massive support for fascism among the young, with groups like RNE, Russian National Unity."

  Marco found the old priest's anxieties contagious. "You say you were in Germany in the war. Does that mean you admit to being a Nazi?"

  Father Reinhardt turned his face away. "I am German, and yes, I was a young member of the National Socialist Party. You seem surprised." Slowly he turned to face Marco again. "For much of my working life I lived in England, the country that gave me refuge in nineteen forty-four. I quickly learned to love the English people."

  "I know England. I was at Oxford last summer," interrupted Marco, moving so as to sit upright in his chair. "I have a friend from school who works there in a science laboratory. He's involved with developing DNA testing techniques." He grinned. "Too technical and boring for me."

  The old priest smiled back. "The City of Spires. I sometimes dream I am back at Oxford."

  "Would you live your life very differently if you had another chance?" asked Marco.

  The smile disappeared. "I have many regrets, Marco. Of course I do. Lost opportunities that torment me still. Sins of omission. Sins of commission." Josef Reinhardt's eyes seemed to penetrate Marco. "Perhaps you will be able to make good some of my omissions."

  Marco felt uncomfortable. "In what way?"

  "By learning from me. I have always maintained an interest in the extreme right wing in Europe."

  Marco jumped from his chair. "You're not still a Nazi?"

  "Indeed I am not. Sit down, young man. I am definitely an ex-Nazi, an anti-Nazi. Hitler was presented to us as a man of great compassion, as having divine insight, divine capabilities. He seduced me, but many of us who were under his spell have subsequently seen the light. Like you, Marco, I am now an unworthy follower of a new Master. Conversion is an apt word."

  Marco breathed out heavily and sat down again. "For a moment you had me wondering what sort of secret body was recruiting me."

  Father Josef glanced at the closed file. "I must repeat what I said earlier. I showed you the note in absolute confidence. It will not be released to the public until the affair is closed -- if at all. I am convinced that the genuine relic is still around. Amendola has chosen to take the official view that it no longer exists, and that is what he is telling the press."

  "The Cardinal seems to be very much on the defensive."

  "Amendola has objected publicly to the relic being shown on TV. He said it was a forgery as soon as it came to light in the Archives last month."

  "But..."

  "He was right, it was a forgery. But somewhere there must be the genuine object. It was seen a couple of hundred years after Eusebius wrote about the statue. Since then there has been silence. Caesarea Philippi was the scene of much fighting in the Crusades. If the relic went to Constantinople it would surely have become known by now. Our brothers in the Eastern Church do not keep secrets of that nature from us any longer. The writer of this note knows something about it."

  "Who is the writer?"

  "It could be anyone, Marco. It is a computer printout, so no handwriting clues there. Our language experts suggest the choice of words and the grammar point to a German origin, apart from the German font, which anyone could use on a computer A German origin is of course what the note implies. However, I trust nobody."

  "Not even the carabinieri?"

  "Especially not the carabinieri. The right wing doctrines are pernicious, and are being accepted by many in authority. There is a growing backlash in Italy against the Communism of earlier decades. The power of the communist unions in Italy is blamed by many for our present economic problems. And there are the issues caused by migrant workers. They are accused of stealing the jobs to which Italian families say they are entitled. Resentment is a breeding ground for hatred."

  Marco looked up. A large cross swung gently on Father Josef's black clerical jacket. Many hours would be spent in prayer while handling that sacred silver object with its worn, dark rosewood center. A comforting thought.

  Father Josef must have observed the glance. "There is power there, Marco, but it exists for those who can see beyond the wood and the silver. It is certainly not a lucky charm. You must seek the power of the risen Lord and feel it for yourself. I am mindful of words the Holy Father shared with me last night, from the letter Saint Paul wrote to the Church in Ephesus. Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full Armour of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers..."

  "... Against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms," finished Marco, glad of the rote learning of Sister Maria.

  "Indeed, yes. The Epistle to the Ephesians." A bell sounded deep within the green-shuttered house on the edge of the Piazza di Santa Maria Maggiore. Father Josef raised a finger. "The sisters are telling us that our lunch is ready. There is much work to be done, so today I will forgo my siesta."

  As they left the room, Marco's earlier question was suddenly answered.

  "Marco, you asked if the writings of Eusebius are reliable? There is, I contend, independent evidence for the existence of the statue. Within a few minutes' drive of here, in the catacomb of Santo Pietro and Marcellinus, I have seen a fresco that I believe shows the very same statue of our Lord, with the woman he healed."

  "I've seen it too." Marco started down the marble stairs, while behind him Father Josef took a firm grip of the brass handrail ready for his descent. "But I didn't realize it showed a statue. I thought it was just a picture of Jesus healing the woman. You could be right." He turned. He had to ask, although the answer was obvious. "Father Josef, I imagine I'm not a practicing priest any more. Is that so?"

  "Hurry along, my son, we must not keep the sisters waiting. To my eyes a man of God is always a man of God, and that is what you most certainly are. You cannot have your priesthood simply taken away by a cardinal and his panel, but you have certainly been prevented from taking up your duties in your first parish."

  Marco walked ahead slowly. He knew that in the short-term he must reconcile himself to a new life. This could even be the last day for wearing his suit of clerical black. At least he could stop cleaning his best shoes. He turned again to speak. "What exactly do you want me to do, to help?"

  Father Josef began to make his way down. "You have to find the relic and bring it back. Before the neo-Nazis get to it."

  BY THE END of the afternoon Marco was keen to throw himself into the work being offered by Josef Reinhardt. Perhaps the guilty could be made to pay for their sins in this life. With his help, the killers of Canon Angelo would be found and made to suffer. Marco checked himself, painfully aware of the hatred that still bubbled below the surface. Hatred like this had nearly destroyed his life when Anna died. It still could, if he let his feelings run free.

  The old priest said the work was for the protection of the Church, not for personal gratification. But if the neo-Nazis were involved, surely Father Josef would want the fascists taught a lesson at the same time. He reached the outside door, where the fast moving traffic in the piazza brought him back to reality with a jolt.

  Standing in the large piazza, he was surprised to discover he was a little afraid. Why should that be? These streets were his home, the playground of his childhood, the territory of his youth. If someone was out there trying to harm him they would have to be good at it. Anyway, whenever he walked the streets he faced danger -- from customers who had once purchased his used cars! He decided to walk home past the studios of TV Roma and check up on the condition of the injured guard. And perhaps have quick chat with Natalia.

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