The Order (Gabriel Allon #20) - Daniel Silva Page 0,73
a single objection, he confirmed both the existence of the plot and the name of the cardinal whom the Order had selected to be the next pope.
“How do you know it’s Emmerich?”
“What do you mean?” asked Gabriel.
“Only a handful of us are aware of the conclave operation.”
“I’m one of them.”
“But I would know who you are.”
“Why would you assume that?”
“I know the names of all the secret members of the Order.”
“Obviously,” said Gabriel, “that’s not the case.”
Receiving no further protest, Gabriel returned to the topic of the payments. It seemed several of the prelates had informed Cardinal Albanese that the agreed-upon sums of cash had not appeared in their accounts.
“But that’s not possible! Father Graf told me last week that all the cardinals had received their money.”
“Father Graf is working with me on this matter. He misled you at my request.”
“Bastard.”
“The Order forbids such language, Herr Estermann. Especially when it concerns a priest.”
“Please don’t tell Bishop Richter.”
“Don’t worry, it will be our little secret.” Gabriel paused. “But only if you tell me what you did with the money you were supposed to deliver to the cardinal-electors.”
“I wired it into their accounts, just as Herr Wolf and Bishop Richter instructed. I never stole a single euro.”
“Why would the cardinals lie?”
“Isn’t it obvious? They’re trying to extort us into paying more money.”
“What about the account in Liechtenstein?”
“It is an operational account.”
“Why is your wife the beneficiary?”
Estermann was silent for a moment. “Do Herr Wolf and Bishop Richter know about the account?”
“Not yet,” said Gabriel. “And if you do everything I tell you, they never will.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to call Herr Hassler first thing in the morning and tell him to wire that money to me.”
“Yes, of course. What else?”
Gabriel told him.
“All forty-two names? We’ll be here all night.”
“Is there somewhere else you have to be?”
“My wife is expecting me for dinner.”
“I’m afraid you missed dinner a long time ago.”
“Can you at least remove the blindfold and these restraints?”
“The names, Herr Estermann. Now.”
“Is there any particular order you want them?”
“How about alphabetically?”
“It would help if I had my phone.”
“You’re a professional. You don’t need your phone.”
Estermann tilted his head toward the ceiling and drew a breath. “Cardinal Azevedo.”
“Tegucigalpa?”
“There’s only one Azevedo in the College of Cardinals.”
“How much did you pay him?”
“One million.”
“Where’s the money?”
“Bank of Panama.”
“Next?”
Estermann cocked his head. “Ballantine of Philadelphia.”
“How much?”
“One million.”
“Where’s the money?”
“The Vatican Bank.”
“Next?”
THE LAST NAME ON ESTERMANN’S list was Cardinal Péter Zikov, the archbishop of Esztergom-Budapest, one million euros, payable to his personal account at Banco Popolare Hungary. All totaled, 42 of the 116 cardinal-electors who would choose the successor to Pope Paul VII had received money in exchange for their votes. The total cost of the operation was slightly less than $50 million. Every penny of it had come from the coffers of the Wolf Group, the global conglomerate otherwise known as the Order of St. Helena Inc.
“And that’s all of the names?” probed Gabriel. “You’re sure you haven’t left anyone out?”
Estermann shook his head vigorously. “The other eighteen cardinals who will vote for Emmerich are members of the Order. They received no payment beyond their monthly stipends.” He paused. “And then there’s Archbishop Donati, of course. Two million euros. I deposited the money after he and the Israeli broke into the Secret Archives.”
Gabriel glanced at Eli Lavon. “And you’re sure you didn’t deposit that money in an account I don’t know about?”
“No,” said Estermann. “It’s in Donati’s personal account at the Vatican Bank.”
Gabriel turned to a fresh page in his notebook, despite the fact he hadn’t bothered to write down a single name or number. “Let’s go through it one more time, shall we? Just to make certain we haven’t missed anyone.”
“Please,” begged Estermann. “I have a terrible headache from the drugs you gave me.”
Gabriel looked at Mordecai and Oded and in German instructed them to return Estermann to the holding cell. Upstairs in the drawing room, he and Lavon reviewed the recording on a laptop computer.
“That clerical suit you wore into the Secret Archives the other day must have rubbed off on you. For a moment even I was convinced you were a member of the Order.”
Gabriel advanced the recording and clicked PLAY.
Two million euros. I deposited the money after he and the Israeli broke into the Secret Archives …
Gabriel clicked PAUSE. “Rather clever on their part, don’t you think?”
“They obviously don’t intend to go down without a fight.”