CHAPTER 17
HAUNTING PAST
At the Vatican, Lucy had little sleep that night. Her curiosity, plotting and the fear of not waking up at the time Bartolommeo had ordered, made her sleep in controlled catnaps.
How could she have time to investigate about her parents that worked for the Vatican if she had to wake up at 4 A.M and sleep at 11 P.M? Where was she to start from if all she had was that necklace on her neck she wasn’t supposed to wear around people? Could she trust Mr. Bartolommeo with the secret? Half of these questions are enough to keep anyone awake.
The loud alarm on her phone awaked her. It was 3.30 A.M already and she had 30 minutes to get ready. Fifteen minutes later, Bartolommeo was knocking on her door. She was still on her pyjamas. It was a long sleeved t-shirt and flexible smooth cotton trousers. She wasn’t ready. She had to still wear her habit. But she also had more 15 minutes but Bartolommeo was knocking on the door. She decided to answer the door to tell him that she would meet him in a minute and when she did, Bartolommeo was in shock. He couldn’t speak for a whole minute or much better, for 60 thousand seconds. What was in front of him was unbelievable.
When Lucy noticed this, she started regretting answering the door on her pyjamas. Bartolommeo was inspecting every inch of her body and was particularly focused on her breasts. That was very uncomfortable to her. She blamed herself because answering the door on her pyjamas was very promiscuous. Although she had heard about the promiscuity of some priests, nothing could prepare her for that embarrassment. That’s when Bartolommeo addressed to her after a long minute of awkward and uncomfortable silence.
“Lucy, I want you to tell me the truth. Are you or are you not the daughter of Deanna Garamond and Diego Garamond?”
Lucy was surprised until she noticed that she had the necklace with the G of Garamond and the Crucifix on her neck as she always slept with it on to give her hope and protect her. She had seen that symbol on a door inside the Vatican, and she had lots of hopes so the night before she wore it. She started to regret or perhaps that was faith. All her confusion and discomfort were substituted by a mix of hope but also fear because she still didn’t know if she could trust the secret to Bartolommeo. She answered, “I have never met my parents, sir. This necklace is all I have from them.” Bartolommeo’s face was even more surprised, “Let us get inside. We can’t discuss this out here. It’s too dangerous.” He entered the room and closed the door. Then he resumed, “So you have no clue to who your parents actually were?”
“I was left on a Convent’s door steps in Mozambique, Maputo when I was just 2 years old and there I grew up raised to be a nun. The woman who found me was a high nun called Martha Poland. She gave me her last name. She was like a mother to me but she died when I was 6, of disease. But why did you say ‘who my parents were?’ Have they passed away?” She made a very worried and sad face.
“Sit down!” She sat on her bed and he, on the chair. He took her hands in his, “Now I know why you looked familiar. You are the face of your father and the body and charm of your mother. What I am about to tell you, must never be known. Diego was my best friend or even the only one I have ever had.” Lucy was shining of happiness but the next words would change that. “Diego was murdered 19 years ago ironically by the man that brought you here.”
“Mr. Morgo?” She asked in surprise.
“Yes. Erick Morgo is his full name and he is not only a bookkeeper. He is also a highly efficient assassin. Your father Diego, Erick and I worked together. Rumour has it that he has killed more than a thousand people for the Church, including your father, at his house and eventually, your mother, at her hide out in Africa. What was the country you said you were from?”
“Mozambique!”
“Suddenly everything starts to make sense. Your necklace, Lucy, contains very privileged information. Your father had it from a Cardinal who had a change of heart when Pope John Paul I was murdered and the Church covered it, not even effectuating an autopsy. Cardinal Paolo gave the location of the key to your father for he intended to expose the Church but he was killed on the same day. I still remember it like it is today, Shelf 456, lot 34, item 21, page 567, Miracle. My guess is that Erick, for the first time, didn’t make his murder look like an accident and that’s why they let him finish his job, killing your mother and then they expired his contract letting him work far away. He was a broken toy. He was becoming old and obsolete, therefore ineffective. They had to get rid of him. That was the end of it.”
“Why did Mr. Morgo kill my parents? I still can’t believe my own ears.”
“Your father was a bookkeeper, just like me. We were three. Erick, your father and I. Today it’s only me. Your father found out documents that prove that the Church was responsible for untold crimes: Child trafficking, involvement in major assassinations, ... He didn’t trust Erick so he came and asked me for help. As a friend and a pragmatist, I told him not to make it public. He’d die and the Church would cover the whole thing. He was an idealist so he didn’t listen. “
“So I am still alone in the world with no shred of hope to keep me moving me forward. What will I do?”
“You, my child are going to get dressed properly because I have darker secrets to show you. That necklace you are wearing is highly valuable. I am happy you are alive.”
Bartolommeo kissed her forehead and left the room. A few minutes later, he came back and took her with him. They walked through the Library and she was trying to guess where they were going. – Are we looking for a particular book? – She didn’t have to browse through all of the 83 kilometres of shelving because she had a more efficient search engine than Google will ever be, she had Bartolommeo. Suddenly he stopped walking, he touched the same book he had touched 14 years ago and a door on the wall opened. He entered with Lucy and there was an old computer that ran Windows 98, the last version used in that confinement before the website administration was handed to real IT experts. He said, “Can you use this?”
“It’s really strange but I can try,” She cleaned the chair with part of her habit and sat down, turned it on and it wasn’t as hard as it seemed. It actually had network access. Bartolommeo said, “Type TheVaticanLibrary.org”. Lucy put it and a code was required, “Now what?” Bartolommeo thought – Should I give her the code. What if she knew all this before even coming here and I am a means to an end. – Lucy interrupted whatever he was thinking, “Mr. Bartolommeo, don’t forget that we are criminals here. What should I do?”
“Miracle. Write Miracle,” He told her and as soon as she did, she was required to insert a the memory card. Bartolommeo knew that that was it, he had done it. “Lucy, give me your necklace,” He asked with his hand on her shoulder. Lucy gave it to him. He folded the crucifix and turned it into a pen of sorts with a memory card inserted into it. “It was below my nose all this time. How didn’t I see it?”
“Because we see what we want to see and even if you knew, there was nothing you could do.”
“What is it for?”
Mr. Bartolommeo took a small wire on the ground and when he was about to put it on Lucy’s neck, at that exact moment, the computer’s monitor went to sleep and as a mirror, Lucy saw him trying to put it around her neck and choke her with it. With adrenaline rushing through her veins, she shunned from it, took the keyboard off the desk and hit him on his bald head. He fell down dizzy and incapacitated. – What a joke I have become, defeated by a woman-child.
“It was you who killed my parents, wasn’t you? Why? And to think that I actually fell for your story. Why bring me here. You could have just killed me.”
“I had to be sure it actually worked and that you have never used it with Mr. Morgo nor changed the password.”
Lucy took the necklace from his pocket ready to run away, she stopped at the door and shouted, “Old and Obsolete”. Moments later, when she wanted to enter her bedroom and take her mobile phone, she saw two Swiss Guards entering her room looking for her but lucki
ly she was between the book shelves. One of them saw the open door on the wall. He took off his gun and entered carefully saying, “You better get out Miss Lucy. We are here peacefully.” Lucy took the chance to escape, she exited the Archivum Secretum Vaticanum from Porta di S. Anna na Via di Porta Angelica and ran towards the Vatican Museum where she knew she could find a lot of visitors, a great place to blend in and ask for a phone to call somebody although she still had to decide whom.
The other Swiss Guards had arrived and they entered together. Bartolommeo took one of their guns, used the knife on them and stabbed them just to disprove a point. They died slowly and painfully bleeding from everywhere. He thought to himself, “Let’s see who’s old and obsolete”. He got out, put the book where it was and the secret door closed. Now he had a personal mission, find Lucy and take the necklace. That was his last chance of ending his mission. Minutes later, another two Swiss Guards arrived along with Primate Antonio who rushed to say, “Mr. Bartolommeo, we are looking for the nun. She is Lucy Garamond, not Poland as she made us believe she was. She has forged her identity. As a matter of fact, she is a forgery herself. The DNA test proved her to be the daughter of Deanna Garamond and Diego Garamond. You know what this means, right?
“I know,” Bartolommeo answered, “And yes, she has Paolo’s crucifix,.” That alarmed Primate Antonio and he asked worried, “Where is she?”
“Close. She couldn’t have gone far. This is the Vatican and she is alone. She is trapped in here. You two go to the Square Garden and I will go to the museums. She left her phone and she is going to find one. Go!” The Swiss Guards one away and he went the other way.
Lucy entered the museum and it was marvellous. That wasn’t how she had pictured her first visit to the famous Museums. She looked up and she hit someone.
“Will you be careful sister?” The lady said.
“I am so sorry miss. I know this is strange but could you lend me your phone, please?”
The lady made a repulsive gaze and went away murmuring; “Now they dress like nuns to rob us blind. These criminals in this city without rules are getting funnier and funnier.” Lucy stayed there, stupefied when someone gave her a phone and said behind her back, “Use mine.” She saw the hand and the phone but she couldn’t see who it was because she was staring at the floor, still trying to understand why that lady was so rude. In Maputo nobody could do that, except downtown and the ghettos and the city and the provinces, and the districts.
She followed the hand until she saw the young man. He was tall and very well groomed. He resumed, “Don’t blame her. Here at the Vatican there are a lot of crooks. Here, use it!” She couldn’t even say thank you, she just made the gesture. She took the phone and froze completely. ‘Who to call’, She thought.
“You are not from here, are you?” The young man asked.
“No,” She answered, “I am from Mozambique. I mean yes, I was born here but I grew up there.”
“Where is that?” The boy asked. She looked at him and said, “Southern Africa’, next to South Africa.
“Why don’t you call?”
“I... I don’t know who to call.”
“I was in a shitty situation once and I called my uncle. Not my judgemental father, nor my worried mother, but my uncle. I knew he could help and also keep a secret.” When the boy finished, Lucy started typing, the phone rang and someone picked.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Morgo, it is Lucy here.”
“Lucy, is everything OK?”
“No, it’s not. I just found out that I am a daughter of a Diego Garamond and a Deanna Garamond and that you were sent there to kill me.”
“What?” Morgo shouted in admiration, “I came here to find you Lucy because Bartolommeo had killed both your parents. If I had known you were you I could have never sent you there. But I suppose you know this already, you are not safe. I am going to send you a number of my son. He will help you. Just say ‘I want to sell Annabelle’s painting before you say anything.’ Trust no one! God, I can’t believe you were under my nose all this time. Tell my son that I love him and I am sorry for turning him into what he has become and please survive.”
“There’s a book that along with my necklace gives access to a secret website,” She said.
“You mean, the SAW? The Secret Archives Website” Mr.
Morgo shouted surprised, “So that’s why they want it so bad”.
“Do you remember these numbers, ‘Shelf 456, lot 34, item 21, page 567, Miracle?” Lucy asked.
“Of course, when your father asked, Johnathan and I were together, why?”
“Do you know what they really mean?”
“Yes. Before he left, your father told me. If there was something Johnathan and I agreed was that he left it were it was but your father didn’t listen. That’s what killed him, a good heart. I know a lot of stuff but they also know that I could never open my mouth so they let me live. Lucy?”
“Yes?”
“Call my son. Memorise this number +39-0-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1. Hurry. Your life depends on it.”
“Bye, Mr. Morgo,” Lucy hung up the phone and a few seconds later she called the number. She heard a woman on the other line in very pleasant Italian, “Questo è Fagiolo Projetto. Come posso aiutarti?” Lucy was lost for a second but then she took a deep breath and said, “I want to sell a painting”. The woman on the phone retorted in very forced and heavy Italian accented English, “What miss? What painting? We buy no paintings here. Have a nice day.” She figured her mistake and repeated, “No, no, wait. I want to buy Annabelle’s painting.” Instantly the girl, in very fluent British English replied, “Thank you miss, I will pass you through very shortly,” and she was passed to another person, a man who said, “Hello Dad.” She didn’t know what to say so she rushed to explain, “I am stuck inside the Vatican, there is an assassin trying to kill me, Mr. Morgo told me to call you. I need to get out of here.”
“OK, OK, slow down. Who are you?”
“I am Lucy... Garamond.”
“Oh my God, the Garamond’s daughter? Of course. You know, if you are who you say you are, the Vatican is the last place you want to be.”
“I know. That’s why I need your help to get out of here.”
“OK, where are you?” The man asked. She looked to the young man standing beside her, and in a low voice, “Where are we?” and the boy said, “Saint Peters Museum”. She repeated what he had said, “Saint Peters Museum”.
“OK, grab a map and go towards the Borgia Tower. I will find you there.”
Lucy managed to go to the location and a helicopter came and took her. Erick Morgo Jr. had sent his fully trusted personal friend and private pilot Jeremy. A few minutes later they entered Erick’s big mansion. Lucy was mesmerized by the luxury of the place.
Erick was a very successful entrepreneur. He had started a very profitable business using his father’s contacts at the Catholic Church. He was friends with the Pope and he never talked to his father who was against his lifestyle, The Faith Business. As Lucy arrived, she was provided with new clothing and a bath. Erick arrived piloting his own other helicopter. He entered the house and then the guests’ bedroom. It was unusually spacious and the bed stayed in the living room. Lucy gazed at him with inconcealable wonder. He looked nothing like his father. He was like no man she had ever seen. He was tall and graceful. He walked elegantly, not taking his eyes off of her. She started to feel embarrassed since she still wore her towel and no man had ever seen her in a towel before. He was something near Greek Gods. She was shy and he noticed. He too was amazed and he felt confident or he believed the feeling was mutual.
“You are the God’s perception of paradise. I have never seen a woman so gorgeous. If it weren’t for the towel I would show you that I am correct,” Erick whispered in her ears.
“What are you doing?”
“Contemplating a celestial beauty. Your eyes are of a blue tone God himself is not ca
pable of creating. Your lips are immaculate Venus shells. Where have you been hiding all this time?”
As he touched her lips and tried to kiss her, she dodged his onrush and slapped him.
“What are you doing? You hurt me,” He complained.
Lucy’s face got serious and with the most furious attitude she ever displayed, she said, “I know what you are trying to do. All men have a twisted fetish for nuns and you think that because you saved me you can take advantage of me.”
“No, it’s not like that. I am sorry. It’s just an involuntary reflex.
And I didn’t know you were a nun. It won’t happen again.”
“I hope so. For your sake.”
“I like you. Anyway, how can I redeem myself?”
“Asking forgiveness to God for your promiscuity and blasphemy.”
“Alright, but I was kind of thinking about something that would actually change something. You need help, correct?”
“Yes, I need to disappear. I was an intern at the secret archives and I found very sensible information that could destroy the Catholic Church.”
“What about my father?”
“He is in Mozambique.”
“He left me 14 years ago and the first thing he does is make me help you.”
“It seems like I am his best friend’s daughter. He went there to find me and keep me away from here but ended up bringing me here by accident”
“I know. Garamond’s daughter. Suddenly I feel foolish for hating him. He’s just too good.”
“He also said that he misses you and he’s sorry for being responsible for what has become of you. What did he mean by that?”
Erick sat down on a leather sofa and said,” I grew up reading secrets I wasn’t supposed to read. I never believed in God. I used my knowledge to create alliances with very powerful people inside the Church. Since you know, I guess I can tell you. I participated in a lot of crimes for the Church that I regret: Child kidnapping for adoption, illegal human experiments, child molestation, cover ups and several others. When I got tired, I faked my own death. My father had my number memorised so he called. It’s not an easy number to forget. I am sure you still know it. He just had to say the code.”
“Ohh, your father’s code is “I want to sell Annabelle’s painting?!”
“Yes, Annabelle is my mother,” Erick Jr. answered, “Well, my dad didn’t quite plan me because of his type of life you know?! My mom named me Erick Morgo Jr. just to piss him off. My faith business partners killed her because she was starting to get mentally unstable and was telling secrets to strangers. One day, she had an orchestrated heart attack and that was it.”
“We have to expose them Erick. They have taken my parents away from me and they have taken your mother.”
“What do you need?”
“Go back to Maputo, I guess.”
“Then what?”
“I don't know. All I know is that every second we stay here Mr. Morgo's life, your father, is in danger. We have to go and pick him up.”
“It’s settled then, we leave in 2 hours.”
At the Vatican, at that same time, Mr. Bartolommeo entered the Vatican’s private supersonic jet and piloted himself. The Holy Warrior was active again and he his destination was Mozambique and his mission was to find Mr. Morgo, since Lucy had mysteriously disappeared.
“That little woman-child bitch doesn’t know what is coming to her,” He murmured to himself, “If you can’t find the ostrich, steal its egg and get ready for war.”