Shout in the Dark

  Chapter 3

  Rome

  Piazza di Santa Maria Maggiore

  Afternoon

  JOSEF REINHARDT shifted uneasily at his desk. What would his colleagues say if they could see the hesitation? That old Father Reinhardt, the fearless Nazi hunter, was reluctant to sacrifice a young priest? This was foolishness indeed. With a steady hand he drew a circle of red, like a sentence of death, around the name he had just written on the paper. Marco Sartini, a priest with a declared interest in relics. It had surely not been chance that had allowed them both to meet for the first time this morning.

  The traffic in the Piazza di Santa Maria Maggiore disturbed his concentration and he went across the room to press the old window firmly shut. The mixture of car engines and frantic horns still penetrated the thin glass, making it vibrate. Reinhardt felt helpless as he returned to his desk and fingered the heavy cross of rosewood and silver hanging from his neck. His was an agonizing decision. But surely the loss of Sartini's life was nothing compared to the consequences of failure. A fascist Shrine of Evil. It must be prevented, even if it meant the destruction of what could be the most powerful relic held by the Church. And the loss of Sartini's life.

  The name inside the circle of red ink glared up at him in piercing accusation. Sartini, a young man unknown to these forces of evil. The innocent dying to save the world. The old man smiled grimly. It was hardly a new concept -- it was the cornerstone of the Church.

  Like Pontius Pilate at the trial of Jesus, he had the power to grant freedom -- or order crucifixion. The sudden awareness of this fact gave him no pleasure. Reinhardt reached for the telephone. The Holy Father must be informed of the choice of Sartini immediately.

  "It is not a question of if I see the Holy Father today, Vittorio, it is a question of when." Reinhardt sighed, aware that he was raising his voice to the Holy Father's private secretary. "Immediately," he added, with no hint of apology.

  As he waited, Reinhardt stared thoughtfully at the confidential staff folder on his desk. Would the Vatican turn its eyes away -- again -- and allow the fascists to change the face of Europe? Marco Sartini, age twenty-nine, and only recently ordained. There was a suggestion that Amendola had tried to block the ordination. This was, perhaps, not surprising. Reinhardt allowed himself a smile as he read Cardinal Amendola's prim wording in a letter of objection that he had wanted put on record: Sartini, a young man who once had "a certain reputation with the girls."

  He continued through the notes. Here was a choirboy who had walked away from the Church at thirteen. Wasted teenage years, a succession of young women, then a stable, happy marriage to Anna Sartini. Anna Sartini, killed six years ago in Rome while being chased by a group of drunken tourists late at night, only two years into the marriage. Reinhardt turned the page. Marco Sartini a widower at twenty-three: a secondhand car salesman, drug user, and survivor. He shook his head wearily.

  "Vittorio, please be as quick as you can. The matter is extremely urgent." He closed his eyes and tried to remain patient. It was clear from Berlin that the neo-Fascists were about to mount a display of worldwide importance. Did someone have eyes on the Vatican's newly rediscovered relic? As in the years leading up to the war, the people of Europe could again be drawn and then seduced by exciting promises from a powerful leader.

  "Thank you, Vittorio, this evening at the Pope's private suite. Yes, you may indeed assure the Holy Father I will not be wasting his time."

  He picked up the email that his contact in the civilian security services had intercepted and decoded. It was being sent by the neo-Fascist ADR movement in Berlin to their base in London. Achtzehn Deutschland Reinigung. The encryption was minimal. The group seemed to be getting careless.

  INTERCEPTED EMAIL COMMUNICATION

  The Russians have agreed to sell us the two fragments that they claim are from the skull of Adolf Hitler. Please arrange for our colleagues in Oxford, England, to prepare for DNA testing. I am confident we can prove that the Russian fragments are from the same person as the larger, but partially burned portion of the Führer's skull already in our possession.

  Although these three pieces are obviously insufficient to allow us to reconstruct a complete head of the Führer, I have commissioned an internationally famous artist to create a life-size bust of great realism, using a skilful blend of bone and clay.

  We will one day be able to put the bust of the Führer on public display, possibly in Berlin -- for the glory of the ADR and the unity of the pure people of the world.