C ardinal Salvatore Felici was known to keep one of the finest cellars in Rome. Invitations to his private dining room in the Palazzo della Sacra Inquisizione were much sought after, but rarely issued – unless the visitor possessed information or was in a position to influence a particular course of events to Felici’s satisfaction. Howard Wiley was in a position to do both, and the two men took their seats at the oak dining table. Felici nodded to the attractive young nun who was hovering near the heavy Louis XIV sideboard. Sister Bridgette’s appointment to Felici’s personal staff had raised more than one eyebrow in the Vatican.
‘Chateau Latour 1961, Howard,’ Felici remarked as he poured from the crystal decanter. Felici’s command of the English language was impressive, a hint of Oxford contrasting with Wiley’s southern drawl. ‘I’ve heard it said that the 1961 Bordeaux vintage in Pauillac was comparable to the great wines of 1928 and ’29.’ Cardinal Felici held the fine Waterford crystal glass aloft towards the chandelier, allowing a ray of light to stream through the deep pomegranate hue of the grand vin claret.
‘Yes, although it’s surprising that Pauillac has so few chateaux at the Premiers Crus end of the spectrum,’ Wiley replied. ‘From memory, the only other two are Chateau Lafite-Rothschild and Chateau-Mouton Rothschild.’ Wiley sniffed the Latour’s bouquet. ‘Spicy. A hint of liquorice and leather.’ Howard Wiley appreciated the finer things in life, and like his mentor, J. Edgar Hoover, the DDO was adept at using the public purse to attain them. Wiley’s cellar, although not quite up to Felici’s standards, was extensive.
‘I read the file on the Weizman woman, Howard. She’s becoming more than a nuisance. If she keeps digging into the demise of her family… ’ Felici’s voice trailed off while he waited for Sister Bridgette to serve the first course of scallops and garlic sauce, lightly grilled in their shells. ‘It could get awkward for both of us,’ he concluded, after she had withdrawn.
‘I agree, Salvatore. I have the matter in hand. Perhaps people like Weizman shouldn’t be surprised when unfortunate accidents befall them. That said, it doesn’t hurt to have a back-up plan. The contact you gave me has already been briefed.’ Wiley always operated on the need-to-know principle that was the cornerstone of intelligence agencies around the world, and he had briefed Sodano personally. Neither his chief of station in Vienna nor Felici were aware that Sodano had also been tasked with eliminating the troublesome O’Connor. O’Connor’s demise in Vienna would be passed off as an unfortunate accident.
‘Glad to be of help, Howard.’ Felici replenished both wine glasses. ‘Weizman has been very foolish, but there must be no mistakes.’ Felici also worked on a need-to-know basis. He kept his real fears over what Weizman might be investigating to himself. Links between the Vatican and the CIA and the Guatemalan death squads could always be denied, but if Weizman dug too deeply into what had happened at Mauthausen, Felici’s family connections to the Nazis would be exposed. He was determined that would never be allowed to happen.
‘What’s your take on Weizman’s assertions on this Maya Codex?’ Wiley asked.
‘Why would the CIA be interested in an ancient codex, Howard?’ Felici probed, his thin lips parting in a humourless smile. They were like two Olympic fencers, each en garde, each ready to parry, each ready with a riposte.
‘A couple of reasons. Firstly, if such a codex were to be discovered by someone like Weizman, her profile would immediately rival that of Howard Carter when he discovered of the tomb of Tutankhamen, which would serve neither of our interests, Salvatore. It would be far better if it were found by one of our own.’
‘All the more reason there must be no mistakes in dealing with her.’ ‘That’s understood,’ Wiley said, controlling his irritation. ‘But if what is rumoured to be in the codex turns out to be true, it might be difficult to control public panic. Scientific data showing movement in the poles and a change in the earth’s magnetic field are already available, but fortunately the media isn’t taking much notice. The view in Washington is that the codex is just mystical nonsense, but if someone like Weizman were to find it and line up the scientific data with ancient Mayan predictions of a catastrophic pole shift, uncontrolled media headlines could blow this way out of proportion. Any suggestion that the financial centres of the world might finish up a thousand metres under water would cause investors to panic and seek safety in gold. There’d be a run on the banks and another stockmarket crash – one far worse than the 2008 panic. Worse even than the crash of 1929.’
Felici nodded, deep in thought, his mind more focused on the dangers the codex posed for the Holy Church.
‘The President thinks any alignment with the current scientific data and what might be in this codex is sheer coincidence, but he agrees the public should be shielded from it.’
‘I think your president is right. The Maya were uneducated savages who worshipped any number of pagan gods, and it’s a pity that all of their codices were not destroyed, but I agree: fear breeds fear. When it comes to the financial markets, investor panic is an uncontrollable phenomenon that defies logic.’
‘If this codex thing is not handled sensibly, Salvatore – and by that I mean if it gets into the wrong hands – it could threaten the entire financial system.’
‘If this Maya Codex exists, it will need to be kept from public view, at least until after 2012… and perhaps beyond,’ Felici said, still more mindful of the threat the codex might pose to Catholic doctrine than the stockmarket. Cardinal Felici paused, reflecting on a more recent warning that had been delivered to the faithful by the blessed Virgin Mary when she had appeared at Fatima. Was her warning coming to fruition? Could the third warning and the Maya Codex be connected? Pope John Paul II had released a ‘translation’ of the third warning in June 2000, but Felici knew that the real warning was still buried in the Vatican’s archives. ‘We should maintain close cooperation on this, Howard,’ he concluded.
‘There is one other issue,’ Wiley said carefully. ‘When you and I were in Guatemala, one of our assets was based in San Pedro.’
‘Ah, yes. Father Hernandez.’
‘He kept detailed diaries… ’
Felici felt a chill run down his spine, but in a habit born of long years of practice, he gave nothing away. ‘Really? I thought Hernandez retired years ago. He must be in his late eighties by now?’
‘Early nineties actually, but still very sprightly for his age, or he was the last time he was seen around Lake Atitlan. He and his diaries disappeared three years ago, we think possibly to Peru. He apparently received a tip-off that certain enemies were on to him.’
‘Do we know what the diaries cover?’
‘Not exactly. But I’m led to believe he recorded a considerable amount of information on this missing codex.’
‘So if we find the diaries, they may lead us to the codex?’
‘They may. But more importantly the diaries may also contain details of our operations in Guatemala, and Hernandez’ escape from Nazi Germany. The CIA is not the only one looking for Hernandez – Mossad is more than a little interested as well.’
The blood drained from Felici’s face. ‘It would be extremely unfortunate if these diaries were to fall into the hands of the Israelis or anyone else, Howard. I will ask our papal nuncio in Guatemala City to keep his ear to the ground. Our papal nuncio in Lima can also be trusted, so I will make some enquiries on the possible Peruvian connection.’
Like two grand masters of the epee and the foil, Wiley and Felici watched each other’s every move, revealing neither their fears nor their plans for the diaries and the missing codex.