The Order (Gabriel Allon #20) - Daniel Silva Page 0,15
if they were too fragile or sensitive, the Holy Father would review them in a special room inside the Archives, with the prefetto standing just outside the door. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. His name is—”
“Cardinal Domenico Albanese.”
Donati nodded.
“So Albanese was aware of every document that passed through the Holy Father’s hands?”
“Not necessarily.” An unrepentant smoker, Donati removed a cigarette from an elegant gold case and tapped it against the cover before lighting it with a matching gold lighter. “As you might recall, His Holiness developed serious sleeping problems late in his papacy. He was always in bed at the same time each evening, about half past ten, but he rarely stayed there long. On occasion he was known to visit the Secret Archives for a bit of nocturnal reading.”
“How did he get documents in the middle of the night?”
“He had a secret source.” Donati’s eye was caught by something over Gabriel’s shoulder. “My God, is that—”
“Yes, it is.”
“Why doesn’t she join us?”
“She’s busy.”
“Watching your back?”
“And yours.” Gabriel asked about the missing Swiss Guard.
“His name is Niklaus Janson. He recently completed his required two-year term of service, but at my request he agreed to remain for an additional year.”
“You liked him?”
“I trusted him, which is far more important.”
“Were there any black marks on his record?”
“Two missed curfews.”
“When was the last violation?”
“A week before the Holy Father’s death. He claimed he was out with a friend and lost track of the time. Metzler gave him the traditional punishment.”
“What’s that?”
“Scrubbing the rust off breastplates or chopping up old uniforms on the execution block in the courtyard of the barracks. The Guards call it the Scheitstock.”
“When did you realize he was missing?”
“Two days after the Holy Father’s death, I noticed that Niklaus wasn’t one of the Guards chosen to stand watch over the body while it was on display in the basilica. I asked Alois Metzler why he had been excluded and was told, much to my surprise, that he was missing.”
“How did Metzler explain his absence?”
“He said Niklaus was grief-stricken over the death of His Holiness. Frankly, he didn’t seem terribly concerned. Neither did the camerlengo, for that matter.” Donati tapped his cigarette irritably against the rim of the ashtray. “After all, he had a globally televised funeral to plan.”
“What else do you know about Janson?”
“His comrades used to call him Saint Niklaus. He told me once that he briefly considered a vocation. He joined the Guard after completing his service in the Swiss Army. They still have compulsory service up there, you know.”
“Where’s he from?”
“A little village near Fribourg. It’s a Catholic canton. There’s a woman there, a girlfriend, perhaps his fiancée. Her name is Stefani Hoffmann. Metzler contacted her the day after the Holy Father’s death. As far as I can tell, that was the extent of his efforts to determine Niklaus’s whereabouts.” Donati paused. “Perhaps you might be more effective.”
“At what?”
“Finding Niklaus Janson, of course. I wouldn’t think it would be too difficult for a man in your position. Surely you have certain capabilities at your disposal.”
“I do. But I can’t use them to find a missing Swiss Guard.”
“Why ever not? Niklaus knows what happened that night. I’m sure of it.”
Gabriel was not yet convinced that anything at all had happened that night, other than that an old man with a weakened heart, a man whom Gabriel loved and admired, had died while praying in his private chapel. Still, he had to admit there were enough troubling circumstances to warrant further investigation, beginning with the whereabouts of Niklaus Janson. Gabriel would try to find him, if only to put Donati’s mind at ease. And his own mind, as well.
“Do you know the number for Janson’s mobile?” he asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Do they have a computer network over there in the Swiss Guard barracks, or are they still using parchment?”
“They went digital a couple of years ago.”
“Big mistake,” said Gabriel. “Parchment is much more secure.”
“Is it your intention to hack into the computer network of the Pontifical Swiss Guard?”
“With your blessing, of course.”
“I’ll withhold it, if you don’t mind.”
“How jesuitical of you.”
Donati smiled but said nothing.
“Go back to the Curia and keep your head down for a couple of days. I’ll contact you when I have something.”
“Actually, I was wondering whether you and Chiara might be free tonight.”
“We were planning to go back to Venice.”
“Is there any chance I can convince you to stay? I thought we might have dinner at a little place near the Villa Borghese.”