The Unusual Cases of Inspector Martinelli Series. 1.A Vampire in the Vatican. 2.Nun with a Gun. 3.The Aesinas Codex.

By Linda Arditto

A Vampire in the Vatican
Luciano Martinelli is fifty-two years old and an Inspector in the Vatican City Police. It’s been an easy life for him until one day he investigates five murders, all taking place inside the Vatican. This starts his journey into a world of evil and deceit, of pagan rituals and murder. As luck or divine intervention has it, an ancient parchment guides him to the final solution...but one piece of information is missing. Will Martinelli be able to work it out to end the threat of Armageddon?
Nun with a Gun
Inspector Martinelli decides to take a vacation after his encounters with the vampires in the Vatican. He leaves Rome and flies to Munich, always hoping to meet a ‘Knight of Christ’ and maybe a few ‘Royal’ vampires. Spirits rising from the grave and a Nazi connection has Martinelli baffled until he discovers it revolves around missing Nazi gold. Martinelli discovers a deadly secret going back to 1942. Everything changes when Martinelli finally gets to speak to Sister Maria and he’s surprised at her connection to what is going on in the village. How will the Inspector solve this intricate puzzle?
The Aesinas Codex
Inspector Martinelli is summoned to the Vatican two days after he returns from Bavaria. The pontiff is concerned that the Aesinas Codex, an ancient text sought after by Himmler and the Gestapo during world war two, has been high jacked from an armoured truck while being transported to the Vatican City. Martinelli is told that the satchel containing the codex included a separate single page that had never been translated. On the request of the Brotherhood of the Sword the Inspector finds himself back in Germany as the newly formed fourth Reich is suspected of the theft. He finds himself kidnapped by the fourth Reich and is surprised at what he finds. His interest is sparked when he discovers a vampire connection. Will Martinelli eventually find the codex? Will he discover why it was stolen? And will he be able to work out why the extra page is so important. Join Inspector Martinelli as he seeks the most terrifying vampires yet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Arditto
• Release date: Jul 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311043160

Linda Arditto

I am a mystery woman. Older and therefore wiser I hope.

Book preview

The Unusual Cases of Inspector Martinelli

Series

BY

LINDA ARDITTO

Copyright 2013 LindaArditto

Published by

Clover Digital Media

Cover by

Clover Digital Media

Editor

Sue Landsberg

SMASHWORDS EDITION

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer

This ebook is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. No offence was intended when referring to the Roman Catholic Church and any of its associates. No offence was intended against the German people and any historical reference is used fictitiously.

Contents

A Vampire in the Vatican

Nun with a Gun

The Aesinas Codex

A VAMPIRE IN THE VATICAN

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

*Chapter 1*

It was a cold winter morning; snow covered the ground and everyone walking down the streets wore coats, hats and scarves to keep them warm. No one wanted to be out today, but there was so much going on in the Vatican City at the moment. Pope Alexander XII was gravely ill and the church was worried; he had been in perfect health only two weeks ago before going to the papal library below the Casa Santa Marta.

There had been several violent deaths in the last few weeks, all occurring in the apartments at the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican. Bloody deaths; where not one person could have entered without someone seeing them and no one could exit without the Swiss Guards knowing their identity. Most of the deaths were unknown to the public and the Vatican wanted these cases solved quickly.

The Vaticans’ residential exorcist had performed his duty before each body had been removed; this was unusual unless the deaths were of a supernatural nature. It hadn’t worked, the murders continued.

The press office at the Vatican found themselves constantly bombarded with phone calls day and night from different press agencies around the world. They could give no news as they themselves had no idea what was happening.

People were gathering in St. Peters’ Square even though it had started to snow again; they were there to pray for Pope Alexander, not for his life but for his soul.

There wasn’t any hope for Alexander XII; the doctors at the Vatican had not found anything physically wrong with him; an age related illness was not the cause as the pontiff was only fifty-six years old. His ranting and ravings were dismissed as that of an ill man and only heard by two cardinals and his doctors who were privy to his bedroom.

Cardinals were arriving from around the globe and that wasn’t a good sign. The Italian news channels were showing footage of Cardinal Fredricco arriving at the Vatican City as the car took him to the Casa Santa Marta. Fredricco was the fourteenth to arrive and that told the world the Pope would soon die.

One hundred and fifteen cardinals would be arriving at the Casa Santa Marta over the next few days. Cardinals that arrived in larger numbers found themselves transported by special bus, but that came with its own headaches.

Casa Santa Marta was the large hotel where the cardinals would remain during this time and.....it was obvious there was going to be a conclave. Tradesmen had started installing a metal detector at the entrance to scan everyone entering the building. This included nuns that looked after the cardinals during their stay; while a sound scrambling device would be their next task in the Sistine Chapel where the papal voting would take place. Security for the cardinals would have to be tight; the media were also arriving in great numbers. These murders needed solving quickly before a conclave began if the church was going to survive.

Pope Alexander XII was the two hundred and ninety-ninth pontiff and some people saw this as a sign. The next would be number three hundred, a long way from when St. Peter first led the church. It was interesting that only one pontiff had visited the tomb of St. Peter in over seventy years since excavations had taken place below the city. These excavations had revealed a necropolis of ancient burial sites, a street of tombs both pagan and early Christian before reaching the tomb of St. Peter.

The Vatican City police had started their investigation as soon as they were informed of the first murder; Central office had been unable to find the killer as the murders continued. Chief Inspector Fermi had then handed the file to the regional office for further investigation.

Inspector Martinelli of the Vatican City Police had the daunting task of solving these murders. He would lead a small task force that would move unnoticed among every part of the city. Martinelli wasn’t happy about only having four men to work with; he had to find out what the victims had in common apart from working in the Vatican. His early enquiries told him they didn’t socialise together so it had to be something else, somewhere they’d been or someone each knew.

Martinelli and his men had access to every part of the city with no limits to their power, but that didn’t guarantee a speedy solution, five murders had to be solved. Murders that the inspector would soon discover to be very unusual; murders that were more ferocious than he’d ever seen before.

The afternoon was cold, just as it had been in the morning when Martinelli met with his men. Franco Caputo was the first to arrive followed by Angelo Basile.

Here is a list of the victims’ names, Martinelli said as he placed the reports on the table.

Franco picked them up and read the surnames out loud, Salinas, Fuchs, Pawlak, Fournier and Jenkins. They’re not even the same nationality, he added.

They didn’t know each another either except to say hello in the corridors of the Vatican, Martinelli replied.

It was then that Paulo Santini arrived with Carlos Asneto and Franco handed over the reports.

First thing in the morning, Martinelli began I want you to find out where these men have been and who they’ve met.

How far back do you want us to go? Franco asked.

A week before their death, if we don’t find anything we’ll never solve these murders, he answered.

Each of Martinellis’ men took a name and headed off. As usual they would meet again at four o’clock tomorrow which was always the ‘check in’ time in the afternoon. Martinelli looked at the reports; he had to investigate Jenkins, the last on the list, a secretary in the Vatican who worked for a Bishop Constantine.

He headed home, an early night and a fresh start in the morning at the coroners’ office was his plan. He wanted to see Jenkins’ body and read the coroners’ report.

*Chapter 2*

Martinelli arrived at the morgue at 6am. It was still dark outside as he entered through the double glass doors. He hadn’t known it to be this cold before in the Vatican City, but he didn’t think any more about it as he walked into the heated building. He removed his overcoat and carried it over his arm as he headed to the front desk, his badge in full display clipped to his belt.

Inspector, the guard at the desk said as he stood up.

I’m here to see the coroner, Martinelli told the guard.

He’s just arrived, I’ll get him for you, the guard responded as he picked up the phone.

A few minutes later Dr Viglione could be heard walking down the hallway beside the desk.

Here he comes, the guard said to Martinelli as he tilted his head towards the sound.

Martinelli walked down the hall to meet him.

Luciano, I haven’t seen you for so long, Dr Viglione said as he greeted Martinelli.

I wish it were under better circumstances, Martinelli replied.

Yes, these murders are terrible.

"Any murder is terrible," Martinelli added, before following the doctor to the room where the deceased lay in individual drawers.

I want to see Jenkins’ body, he said to Viglione.

The doctor opened a drawer and pulled back the sheet. Martinelli felt horrified at what he saw, he hadn’t realised the attacks had been so brutal.

Were they all like this? he asked the doctor.

Yes. I’m not a detective like you Luciano, but I’d say there’s a single madman out there, the doctor said.

A madman that has access to the Vatican at night, Martinelli whispered.

Martinelli realised that something was wrong. There had been no photos taken at the crime scene and that was suspicious in itself. In fact, there weren’t any photos taken in the Apostolic Palace apartments where all the murders had taken place.

Can I see your report? he asked the doctor.

Dr Viglione walked to the filing cabinet and removed papers from the top drawer. Turning, he handed them to Martinelli.

As he read down the page, it became clear to him that he had to find this killer.

The victim had lost part of his neck and right shoulder, and Martinellis’ eyes went further down the page. Teeth marks were around the wounds and there had been no lumps of flesh found at the scene.

Where did the rest of him go? Martinelli asked.

There was nothing there when I arrived, the doctor answered.

Martinelli photocopied the report before leaving the morgue, he decided to head to the Vatican and speak to Bishop Constantine. He needed to know what kind of employee Jenkins had been and if he’d let the Bishop know of anything bothering him. As he was putting on his overcoat before leaving the building, Franco came in.

Read this, Martinelli said to Franco as he handed him the report.

Francos’ expression said it all as his eyes followed each line, nothing like this had ever happened before in the Vatican City. Franco had been in the force for twenty-five years, dealing with petty crimes and the occasional murder, but this was beyond what he ever expected to solve.

This is Jenkins’ report, he said to Martinelli, What about Salinas?

They’re all the same! Martinelli answered as he took the report and rolled it up, placing it in the inside pocket of his overcoat.

Well, there’s no need for me to see the coroner, Franco said, I’ll follow the only lead I have at the moment. Salina met with a Father Pena two days before he died at the Casa Santa Marta so I’ll head over there now.

Martinelli left the building and jumped in his car. It wasn’t far to the Vatican and he hoped the Bishop was available for an interview. On arriving, the Swiss Guards at the clergy entrance let him pass easily; everyone knew of this investigation.

Martinelli walked across the Basilica before reaching the staircase to the upper floors. Climbing the stairs to Constantines’ office, he noticed no one looked at him as he walked down the hall, all eyes were looking at the floor when he passed. On reaching the bishops office, a well-dressed man about thirty-five years old asked him to take a seat.

Did you know Jenkins? Martinelli asked.

No I didn’t, he replied before leaving the room.

After twenty minutes Martinelli was becoming impatient, he was aware that everyone in the Vatican was busy, but he didn’t like the long delay in speaking with Constantine. Getting up from his seat and walking to the window; Martinelli could see the square. Several hundred people were moving around on this cold winters day and he knew before long there would be thousands. Martinelli turned as the door opened, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting Bishop Constantine said as he closed the door behind him.

Constantine was a fat man, somewhere in his sixties with a ruddy complexion; he was out of breath as he hurried across the room to his desk carrying several folders under his arm.

I’m Inspector Martinelli, he said reaching out his hand to the bishop.

Yes, yes I know who you are, answered the bishop as he sat down ignoring Martinellis hand. What can I do for you?

I need to know what type of man Jenkins was? he asked.

He was a secretary, the bishop answered as if the inspector had asked a stupid question.

Did he ever seem worried about anything or ask your advice at all? Martinelli asked.

No, he was a good secretary and I was sorry to lose him, Constantine answered with no emotion in his voice.

It’s then Martinelli realised how quickly someone could be replaced, the man that showed him into the room was the new secretary while Jenkins had only been dead for two days.

Martinelli had been in Constantines’ office for over half an hour, he had no answers and he wasn’t happy. Thanking the bishop for his time Martinelli left.

While still in the Vatican he decided to look at Jenkins’ apartment. There may be something there that would point to the killer; after all there had been no investigation at the scene. He took out his notebook, turning the pages to Jenkins’ address, he needed to find someone to point the way to the Apostolic Palace. Guards were everywhere and after making his enquiry, he climbed another set of stairs to the apartments. This is where the Pope lay ill and dying; Martinelli was going to be close to the papal bedroom during this investigation.

Passing a priest heading down he asked, Excuse me father, can you tell me where I might find the apartment of Jenkins?

Martinelli showed him his badge and the priest pointed to the right.

Just along there two doors, he said before continuing down the stairs.

Martinelli felt horrified when he reached the door, it was open and painters were finishing the walls. There was no carpet on the floor, it had been removed earlier, and with it all the evidence. At that moment he heard a horrific scream; Martinelli left the room and ran down the hall. It sounded like another murder was taking place and he wanted to be there. Several clergy blocked his path as Martinelli tried to push past them.

It's alright my son, a cardinal said as he took his arm, It's the Holy Father.

Martinelli felt shaken, he’d never heard anything like that before and it unsettled him. The pontiff was obviously in agony and Martinelli wondered what the doctors were doing to relieve his pain. Realising that he was wasting his time at the Vatican, he headed back to his car. It was almost lunchtime, but there would be no time to eat, he’d decided to head over to Casa Santa Marta hoping to catch Franco before he left. Hopefully, he’d found something out that would be helpful, these were tough cases and they needed a break.

Taxis and buses were everywhere as so many people were entering the city and it had taken Martinelli forty minutes to get there. While waiting in the foyer he decided to speak to Father Pena himself, if Franco was still with him it didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to waste a trip.

I’d like to speak to Father Pena? he asked the man at the front desk showing him his badge.

Father Pena left with one of your officers over an hour ago the man replied, he sounded surprised that Martinelli didn’t know this.

Martinelli pulled out his cell phone, it was about time he spoke to Franco and find out where he was. He called the number twice, but there was only static on the line which didn’t mean anything; reception was bad in the city at the moment. He returned to his car and unlocked the door.

As he opened it a bishop approached him, Inspector Martinelli? the bishop asked.

Martinelli looked at him and nodded.

I’m Agusto Ortega from the Vatican. It is important I speak with you in private, he whispered.

Get in the car, Martinelli said but the bishop was reluctant.

It's better I meet with you this evening, the bishop added.

Martinelli could see the worried look on the bishops’ face as he looked around. He realised that Ortega didn’t want anyone to see him speaking with Martinelli.

Ok, where would you like to meet? Martinelli asked.

He was hoping this was about the murders; maybe the bishop had witnessed something.

Meet me outside the Vatican Museum tonight at 10pm, there’s something I want to show you, he said before rushing away.

Martinelli got in his car and headed back to the office, maybe Franco was already there with Pena and he was anxious to speak with him. Franco would have taken him there if he knew something crucial to the investigation. Perhaps Salinas had told him something important about someone he knew. Martinelli was once again stuck in traffic, he found it frustrating. Television cameras were being set up in the streets; traffic was creeping around their vans and slowing everything down.

He was first back at the office and made himself a cup of coffee, Franco couldn’t be far away he thought as he slowly drank it. It was 3pm and Martinelli decided to go out and grab a sandwich, he hadn’t eaten at all today and he knew it could be a long night. Taking the car wasn’t an option; there was just too much traffic. He’d walk; it would do him good and the bistro was close by. On his way, he noticed more people than usual on the street. Even with the snow they were out in droves.

Is the Pope dead yet? he heard someone say.

Morbid bastard, he thought as he entered the bistro.

The queue started just inside the door and Martinelli knew it would be awhile before he’d reach the counter. Standing there waiting, he thought that Bishop Ortega probably had something else in mind tonight. It probably had nothing to do with the murders, but it seemed important to the bishop he be there. Finally, he was at the counter; after his brisk walk getting there Martinelli thought he could treat himself to a couple of pastrami sandwiches. He paid for them and left.

On his way back to the office, he bought a newspaper. The headlines were all about the Pope being close to death, the usual doubletalk nothing more. Back at the office he looked at the clock, it was 3.50pm and he was the only one there. Getting another coffee and eating a sandwich he pulled out his notebook when Santini and Basile walked in.

What have you got? Martinelli asked as they took off their coats.

Absolutely nothing, Santini said as he walked around the room with his hands on his hips.

Martinelli wasn’t the only one frustrated with this case.

No one wants to talk about it, Santini added.

I couldn’t find anyone who knew Fuch, said Basile as he sat at the table in the coffee room.

It was 4pm when Asneto arrived I got nothing, he said as he approached Martinelli.

Martinelli looked at the clock, it was 4.05pm and there was no sign of Franco. Where the hell is he? Martinelli thought.

Tomorrow, he started, I want you to go to the Vatican and collect their personal files. Then contact their families and see if they spoke to them about anything, a phone call, a letter, anything!

The inspector was getting desperate. They say that no news is good news, but that didn’t apply in these cases.

Franco walked in as Martinelli was about to tell the others to go home.

Sorry I’m late Inspector, he said looking at the clock.

Where’s Pena? Martinelli asked.

Franco looked at him before looking at the others, at the hotel I suppose, he answered.

I went to the hotel to meet you after I left the Vatican, Martinelli explained to Franco, The clerk at the desk said Pena had left with one of my officers.

Well don’t look at me, Franco replied in surprise, I spoke to him for only a few minutes then I left.

What did he say? Martinelli asked.

He wanted to know how I knew of their meeting. He was nervous and mumbled something about ‘the evil in the dark’. I wasn’t getting anywhere so I went back to the coroners’ office, Franco said.

Santini, I want you to find out which officer in the force took Father Pena from the hotel. Basile, you’re coming with me tonight so go home and get some rest, be back here at 9.30pm, Martinelli ordered his men before signalling Franco to sit at the table.

Why did you go back to the coroners’ office? Martinelli asked.

I know it sounds crazy but when he said, ‘the evil in the dark’, I started to think about the teeth marks that were mentioned in the coroners’ report, Franco said before pausing.

Maybe we’re dealing with someone that thinks they’re a vampire, Franco added.

He didn’t look directly at Martinelli for a moment.

What did you find out back at the coroners? Martinelli asked ignoring Francos’ last comment.

The bodies aren’t there anymore and neither are the reports. I spoke to Dr Viglione just as he was about to leave for the day. He said it wasn’t unusual for the Vatican to send a representative to pick up these reports and claim the bodies, Franco explained. Viglione said when he arrived at each murder scene a priest was writing stuff on the walls with the victims’ blood. Some cardinals had rushed Viglione in and out the apartments, was all Franco added.

The blood on the wall would have been part of an exorcism, Martinelli explained, but I don’t understand why they had to take the coroners’ reports. He thought once again about Francos earlier comments.

I want you to help Santini find Father Pena tomorrow; I have a meeting tonight with a Bishop Ortega at 10pm outside the Vatican Museum. I hope it has something to do with these murders, was all Martinelli added before Franco left to go home.

Martinelli finished his last sandwich and poured himself another coffee. He would wait here until it was time to meet Bishop Ortega, and then try to get some sleep before morning.

Basile arrived at 9.00pm.

I know I’m early, but there was nothing on television tonight except footage of the crowds outside the Basilica, he explained.

Martinelli was reading the newspaper he’d bought earlier.

Have you noticed; that there’s no more mention of Jenkins’ death apart from that little bit on page five the day it happened? he asked Basile.

You know the Vatican doesn’t like bad publicity, Basile answered.

Martinelli closed the newspaper and got up from the table. It’s time we were going, he said, putting on his coat.

Before leaving Martinelli went to his office, there he removed two pistols from the safe. Handing one to Basile, he said, I’m not taking any chances after dark.

Normally, all handguns were returned to the safe at 4pm.

It didn’t take long to drive to the museum, and Martinelli turned off his headlights for the last stretch of road. No one was around and no security patrols were in the area. He stopped the car and turned off the engine.

Can you see anyone? Martinelli asked Basile.

No, it’s a dark night, he replied as he strained to look through the window.

Martinelli got out of the car, Wait here, he said before walking towards the entrance. He’d noticed the clock on the dashboard of the car had read 9.58 and he hoped the bishop wouldn’t be late, it had been a long day and he was tired. He’d parked away from the entrance and across the other side of the street. Not that it made any difference; there were no other cars around.

Martinelli didn’t know if the bishop was arriving on foot or driving, he could see no other cars approaching and so he walked to the entrance. In the darkness of the doorway, he could see a figure.

Is that you your eminence? Martinelli whispered.

There was no answer.

Slowly, he removed the pistol from inside his coat with his right hand and stretched his left out in front of him, touching the figure. There was movement, and Martinelli stepped to one side as Bishop Ortega fell forward onto the ground.

Basile came running across the street with a flashlight.

What the hell’s going on? he said as he approached Martinelli.

They both looked down at Ortega; his eyes were open wide and stared into oblivion, a look of horror on his face. Martinelli couldn’t find any wounds on the bishop but noticed a piece of parchment in his left hand.

Basile pulled out his cell phone.

No! Martinelli said with urgency in his voice, "museum security will be here soon on patrol, we’ll let them find him."

Taking the piece of parchment from the bishops’ hand, they both hurried back to the car; nothing had gone right today, but Martinelli knew they had to get out of there.

*Chapter 3*

Martinelli woke at 5am; he’d had a restless night and wasn’t looking forward to today. Another hour’s sleep may have helped, but he didn’t have that luxury as he got off the bed. He’d only removed his jacket and shoes before lying down last night, and he wouldn’t have time for a shower. Getting changed, he noticed the piece of parchment on the bedside table, he’d put it there last night before going to sleep.

Martinelli phoned Franco and filled him in on what happened last night.

Stay with the others, he told him, I don’t want anyone working alone anymore.

Once he’d dressed, Martinelli picked up the parchment and headed out the door. Hopefully, he could stop to get something to eat on his way to work. The bistro near his office was open early and he stopped the car before running inside, headlights still on and the engine running. It was early enough that no other customers had turned up yet and Martinelli was served straight away.

On reaching the office he noticed Basiles’ car in the carpark, he’d dropped him off last night and thought he’d driven home. Walking in the coffee-room, he could see Basile with his arms folded cradling his head on the table, asleep.

Wake up, he said kicking the chair as he walked to the coffee machine.

Basile woke and rubbed his eyes, what time is it? he asked.

5.45am, Martinelli replied as he poured two cups of coffee.

He sat opposite Basile and put both cups on the table before removing the parchment from his pocket.

Oh Gee, Basile said, I was hoping last night had just been a bad dream.

Someone must have ripped this out of his hand last night, Martinelli began. The bishop must have had a tight grip for it to tear as it did, it seems pretty strong material.

Martinelli straightened it out best he could on the table before taking a look at it for the first time. It had been partially rolled and was bigger than he first thought.

Does this look like a group of people? he asked Basile as he pointed to what looked like a group of figures in the corner.

Eleven, Basile replied.

Sorry? Martinelli asked as he looked at him.

It looks like eleven people stood together, Basile answered.

Martinelli turned the parchment around so he could see what Basile was looking at, he was right.

Let’s make some notes so I can put this in the safe, Martinelli said as Basile pulled out his notebook and pen.

Basile drew a copy of the parchment as Martinelli wrote a description. Eleven figures down the bottom, above them a cross.

If you put the cross the right way, then the people are upside-down, Basile said pointing to the parchment.

But if we keep the figures the right way then the cross is upside-down, Martinelli pointed out.

Ok, Basile said, Over here, X marks the spot? pointing to the edge of the parchment.

It looks like it but whose arm is reaching out? Martinelli replied.

The torn edge of the parchment had an arm reaching for the X, and neither of the officers could work out any of the other symbols scattered over the parchment.

Have you got it all down? he asked Basile and received a nod as Basile put the notebook back in his pocket.

Martinelli walked to his office, he wanted to get the piece of parchment under lock and key.

As he entered the phone rang; picking up the receiver he said, Martinelli.

It was an administrator at the Vatican called Graeco.

I need you here at the Basilica, he said before hanging up.

Get your coat, Martinelli told Basile as he headed for the door.

From now on his men were going to work in groups; it was too dangerous for anyone to work alone and he would have them armed, day and night.

The sun was up as they left the building, it was a little warmer than yesterday morning, but they still needed their overcoats.

Driving to the Vatican, Basile asked, Do you think it’s an administrator or secretary that’s guilty of these murders?

I don’t know, Martinelli answered, he had also included a tradesman and a Swiss Guard on his list of possibilities, he hadn’t ruled out a member of the Curia either.

He pulled over in the car and told Basile to jump out and buy a newspaper. As they moved off again, Basile noticed nothing reported about the bishop that had died last night. In fact, there was no mention of any negative incident happening in the city.

Maybe it’ll be in a later edition, Basile said throwing it into the back seat.

Once again the traffic was heavy and it took longer than expected to arrive at the Vatican.

As they reached the Swiss Guards at the side door, Martinelli said, Graeco.

One of the guards took him inside before looking around; he pointed to a small group of priests near the back wall. Martinellis’ and Basiles’ footsteps echoed through the building as they headed for the back. Martinelli could feel himself being watched, it felt like a hundred eyes were following him and he started to feel uncomfortable.

Once they had reached the end wall at the back of the Basilica; Martinelli noticed four priests talking together. Their whispers were so low it just sounded like background noise and he couldn’t make out a single word they were saying.

They noticed both men stood there and one priest moved towards them.

I am Monsignor Graeco, he said as he approached.

Martinelli felt surprised at the priests’ youth; he didn’t look any older than thirty. Both men shook hands and Martinelli introduced Basile.

I have been in favour with the Holy Father for quite some time, Graeco said, noticing the look on Martinellis’ face as they walked together out the back door, but something is happening within the walls of the Basilica.

He looked worried and Martinelli hoped this would give him some information he desperately needed.

It was cold outside in the shade, the sun hadn’t passed over the roof yet and Graeco wasn’t wearing a coat. As they walked down the pathway, a large statue was before them where they stopped.

Have you heard of the five protectors? Graeco asked Martinelli.

No I’m afraid I haven’t, he replied.

They were supposed to be Gods’ instructors but worshipped the devil, Graeco added.

Martinelli looked at him, he had his head down, but they could see he was worried.

Graeco turned to them, I was with the Holy Father when he entered the papal library. I wasn’t supposed to be there, but he wanted to show me some ancient texts, Graeco said.

How is the Holy Father? Basile asked.

It won’t be long now, Graeco answered as they walked back inside the Basilica.

I’m not sure who to trust inside the Vatican to help me, that is why I phoned you, he added.

I don’t know what you want me to do, Martinelli replied.

Once inside they had to keep their voices to a low whisper, clergy were moving around everywhere and Graeco was looking nervous.

We’re also missing a bishop from the Vatican, Graeco whispered, he appeared to be embarrassed giving this news to Martinelli.

Martinelli was surprised that he hadn’t heard about it through official channels yet. If the Vatican was going to cover this up too how would they solve anything?

Martinelli was starting to wonder if everything that happened in the last few weeks was tied together, five brutal murders, a dead bishop, a Pope close to death and a missing priest. He needed someone inside the Vatican he could trust, and Graeco was going to be that man.

Martinelli finally spoke, I’ll call you later this afternoon if that’s alright? he asked as Graeco nodded.

He hadn’t finished telling Martinelli about the trip to the library, but there were too many people around.

It was time to head back to the coroners’ office; Martinelli had to find out what the bishop had died of, although he suspected his first impression was right.

Are we stopping for something to eat? Basile asked as they fought their way through the traffic.

No, Martinelli answered, bring a packed lunch or pick something up on your way to the office in the morning.

He didn’t want to sound tough, but they just didn’t have time to stop.

At the coroner’s office, Viglione had just returned from lunch.

What are you doing back so soon Luciano? he asked.

We’ve come to get your report on the bishop, he answered.

Viglione looked from one to the other.

Jenkins was the last body brought in, he said, The morgue is empty at the moment.

Martinelli couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He should have let Basile make that phone call last night.

Martinelli was driving back to the office, he had to phone Graeco and find out what was going on inside the Vatican.

His train of thought was broken when Basile said, I think we’re going to need more officers for this one.

No Martinelli replied, The fewer we are, the less people know what we know.

We don’t know anything! Basile replied.

Yes we do, Martinelli said pulling on the handbrake; they were back at the office.

As they got out of the car they heard a sound and stopped, it was the bell from the Arco delle Campani.

The pontiff was dead.

*Chapter 4*

Right! said Martinelli as he hurried into the office.

Where’s Pena? he asked Franco.

No one knows. We spoke to everyone at Central and none of them had any reason to take him from the hotel, Franco answered.

They were all there except Asneto.

Where is he? Martinelli said pointing to an empty chair.

We thought he’d be here, Franco replied. He had all the paperwork from the Vatican office and was going to phone all the families of the victims.

What the hell was he doing alone? Martinelli asked. I told you to stay together during this investigation! he added with anger in his voice.

Get on to the phone company and find out how many calls were made today from this phone, Martinelli said to Santini.

I need a coffee, he added getting up from his chair and walking out into the hall.

Just then Graeco walked in the front door. He was visibly upset and trembling. Martinelli took his arm and guided him into the coffee room to the closest chair. Martinelli signalled Franco to make coffee when he came into the room with Basile.

Sitting opposite Graeco, Martinelli said, I can understand why you’re upset.

No you can’t, Graeco replied lifting his head to look at Martinelli.

His face wet from all the tears as he continued, I went upstairs hoping they’d let me see Papa when I heard the bell. I arrived at his room as they were closing the doors.

Franco put a cup of coffee in front of him. Graeco looked up and nodded.

They wouldn’t let me in, but I saw him on the bed before the last door closed, he took a sip of coffee and settled down a little.

He needed some time before continuing and Martinelli took the opportunity to drink his coffee.

He, Graeco started but took another sip from his cup. He looked grey and much thinner, Graeco finally said.

That doesn’t make sense Martinelli replied, I heard him call out yesterday when I was at the apartments, he shouldn’t have gone grey yet.

Franco made another coffee for Graeco while Martinelli walked around the table to Basile.

Show him the drawing in your notebook, he whispered to him.

Basile opened his notebook and placed it on the table in front of Graeco.

What am I supposed to be looking at? Graeco asked, looking down at the open notebook.

Have you seen anything like this before? Martinelli asked.

Graeco studied it before saying, Yes, there are many records kept in picture form. A lot of people couldn’t write but needed to keep a record.

Martinelli ran to his office, opening the safe he removed the original before returning to Graeco.

Do you know what it means? he asked Graeco, placing it on the table.

Where’s the rest of it? Graeco said as he picked up the original piece.

I don’t know Martinelli answered, We found it at a crime scene, he added looking over at Basile.

Graeco studied it again, turning the parchment from time to time.

It’s written on sheep vellum, and I would say it was first century, Graeco said as he continued looking at the parchment. It looks like a map he added handing it back to Martinelli.

Just then Santini walked in the room.

There have been no outgoing calls on the phone today, he said to Martinelli.

So, Asneto picked up the records but didn’t come back here to make the calls, Martinelli said. We’ll wait to see if he turns up, he may have gone somewhere else to phone the families.

What makes you think it’s a map? Martinelli asked Graeco as he turned his attention back to the parchment.

This, he said pointing to the symbols.

I thought it was some writing, Martinelli replied as he looked once again at Basile.

No, it’s squares, triangles and rectangles. It's pictures of buildings along both sides of a road Graeco answered as he looked up at Martinelli.

X marks the spot, Basile said pointing back at the X.

Graeco studied the original closely.

This is the disciples, he finally said pointing at the eleven figures.

He seemed surprised and very curious. This is what Martinelli wanted. He needed someone to help them and Graeco was now interested.

But there were twelve disciples, Franco said.

Yes, but the cross represents St. Peter, Graeco explained pointing to the upside-down cross.

Do you recognise the map? Martinelli asked.

No I don’t, Graeco answered, still studying the piece.

It was getting late and Martinelli could see his men were tired.

Go home and get some rest, he told them. Be back at 6am.

What about Asneto? Franco asked before leaving.

There’s not much I can do at the moment, Martinelli answered, I can’t report him missing without telling everyone what he was doing, and I don’t want to do that right now.

Graeco stood up and put his hand in his pocket.

Pulling out a key he handed it to Martinelli, this is the key to the papal library.

Martinelli took it from him, It’s not much good to me, he said, I wouldn’t get to the door without someone blocking my way; if you want me to go there?

This looks like it may have come from the library, Graeco replied.

Why would you think that? Martinelli asked.

Graeco was quiet for a moment and Martinelli started to wonder if he had seen this map before.

I saw Papa looking at something similar which he took from inside a large book, he finally said.

So you’ve seen this before? Martinelli asked.

No it's not the same, Graeco was quick to reply.

Martinelli was grateful for Graecos help but felt he was not telling him everything.

I have to get back to the Vatican, Graeco said as he got up from his chair.

Martinelli had the feeling Graeco had given him the key for safe keeping and he appeared worried.

I don’t think you should go back, Martinelli finally said. Now you’ve spoken to us you’re probably not safe.

Graeco thought for a moment. He understood what Martinelli was saying but wasn’t sure what to do.

Look, Martinelli said. I need you alive if we’re ever going to solve these murders including the pontiffs.

Papa was not murdered, Graeco replied to Martinelli.

Your missing bishop? Martinelli continued, was his name Agusto Ortega?

Graeco went pale as if he knew what was coming,

Yes, he said.

He’s dead, Martinelli continued, I took that from his hand when we discovered his body, he added pointing at the parchment still on the table.

Graeco said nothing. He was scared and started to tremble as he looked back at Martinelli.

Will you help me? Martinelli asked leaning towards him.

Graeco sat back down. Martinelli could see the fear in Graecos’ eyes. He would have to assure the young priest that he’d be protected.

Graeco took a deep breath, I’ll help where I can, he said to Martinelli.

He seemed to have calmed down a lot. Maybe it had been so much to take in but Martinelli had finally got the answer he wanted.

He decided to take Graeco to his brothers’ apartment at the edge of the city. He’d be safe staying there with Alberto and his wife.

I’ll pick you up at 5.30am, Martinelli said as he left Graeco with Alberto.

It was 8pm when Martinelli got home. He showered and shaved before he went to bed. Basile had been right, they did need more men, but the group they had would have to do.

*Chapter 5*

The phone rang at 4am; it was Martinellis wake up call.

There were a lot of people milling around when he reached his car. With snow on the ground, Martinelli was surprised at what hour people were willing to walk to St. Peters’ Square. After what Graeco had told him he didn’t think they could display the pontiff for viewing and he wondered how the Vatican would get around this. Driving down the Via Del Pellegrino Martinelli noticed the coroners’ van. Pulling over, he hurried from his car to Dr Viglione when he saw him stood on the pavement.

Luciano Viglione greeted him as he approached. This is a shooting, nothing like the others.

Martinelli returned to his car. There were too many murders happening within the city, maybe with so many people around. No, he dismissed the idea; after all the Vatican City was tiny and what was