that is not all. At each point along the process there are festivities where prelates are invited to speak of the future saint’s acts and miracles. Gifts are routinely provided to those prelates, which is in addition to the above-detailed expenses. In the end, the total cost to become a saint ranges somewhere between €600,000 and €750,000.
To illustrate the extent of this massive revenue stream, under John Paul II, 1,338 anointed blessed and 482 saints were named. The amount of moneys generated from these 1,820 accounts topped €1 billion. Incredibly, in 1983, John Paul II ordered that all of those moneys were to be managed, not by the Church but by the individual postulators, who were instructed to keep “regularly updated ledgers” on every single potential saint, detailing where all moneys collected were spent. But no oversight on these outsiders was ordered. No audits were ever performed. The postulators operated outside the Holy See with a free hand, one that still exists today. Needless to say, their misuse of over a billion euros exceeds the scope of this summary. But I am privy to their corruption and embezzlement, which is massive, all occurring under the watchful eye of at least six current cardinals, who have also secretly shared in those proceeds.
He stopped reading, astonished by the hypocrisy. What arrogant, pompous, lying thieves. Never once had he stolen from the church. No gratuities. No free trips. No special gifts, as he knew some of the cardinals called that patronage. Nothing. Odd, since Spagna was right. In his youth he’d been vastly different. Stealing had been common. But the older he became, the less physical things mattered. He was after something far more alluring. More satisfying.
Absolute power.
The café’s courtyard remained empty. The time was approaching 4:00 P.M. He nursed a third glass of wine, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion. He had no doubt that every allegation Spagna had made could be proven. The Entity would know how to follow money trails, how to sniff out dummy accounts and fraud, how to break through walls of secrecy and learn who was controlling what and how much.
Everything he’d read was true.
That was the whole point of passing it on. As was the lack of names. Not a single offender had been identified. This had been designed to merely whet his appetite.
And it succeeded.
Movement to his right caught his attention.
From the shadows he saw Arani Chatterjee, who entered the courtyard and calmly walked over and sat at the table uninvited.
“I see I was easy to find.”
“Your love of this place is noted in our files.” Chatterjee pointed. “Did you read it?”
He nodded. “Does he have the proof?”
“Oh, yes.” Chatterjee reached into his pocket and produced a flash drive. “It’s all on here. Audio recordings, documents, records scans, bank statements, surveillance reports. Every detail on every allegation, along with the name of every offender. Quite a list of bishops, monsignors, and cardinals, I’m told, most of whom should go to jail. Thankfully for them, the Holy See has no prisons.”
He could only imagine that list of names. It had to include the heads of the Institute of Religious Works, a fancy label for the Vatican Bank, which controlled all of the church’s financial assets. Also the Amministrazione del Patrimonio della sede Apostolica, which maintained the real estate holdings. The Governorate, which managed the museums and all of the for-profit commercial activities like the retail shops and stores. Along with the Prefecture for the Economic Affairs of the Holy See that oversaw every Vatican office. Those were the big four, and the cardinals currently managing them came from around the world. Chile, Honduras, the United States, India, Germany, the Congo, Australia. Not a one of them had ever lifted a finger to help him.
They would all go down.
But only after they voted for his papacy.
Every damn one of them would write his name on their ballot.
“What does Revelation warn?” Chatterjee asked. “That a corrupt church sits on the city of seven hills?”
Which is what Rome had long been called.
“And its corruption will grow and finally be destroyed,” Chatterjee added, repocketing the flash drive.
All well and good, but, “I need to know what Spagna wants in return for this—invaluable—help.”
“Right now? Simply that you find the Nostra Trinità. As he told you, he wants that secured. He understands that you want to use it to make you pope. If the legends are to be believed, it might have a certain value. But seventeen hundred years have passed since