Читать книгу The Miracle of the Images - Welby Thomas Cox Jr. - Страница 8

Father Tim spoke up... In view of the paranormal visit experienced by The Monsignor...it seems to me that we are now entitled to view the portrait!"

"Forgive me Father, but in all due respect to you and Monsignor Voght there are two constants in my life...first, I deliver the portrait to the Holy Father. Second, I do not relate this event to anyone. I am happy to go back to Rome with you with the Portrait in tow. But in order to do so, there are several matters, which must be taken care of.

Number 1. I need a Passport from Vatican City. I don't know if this is a Diplomatic Passport or some other type but I must receive this passport enabling me to travel as a citizen of Vatican City, Italy.

Number 2. You will have to make me a Diplomatic Courier in order to carry the portrait on board a commercial flight or you will have to schedule a flight aboard a private aircraft so that I will not have to clear customs.

Number 3. I will be unable to stay at Vatican City all the time. I will have to come back to the US in order to run my farm but I have been praying to this portrait for fifty years and I do not expect that to stop altogether. I want access to the portrait for the purpose of paying my respects.

Number 4. I expect to pay all the expense related to the visit including the private charter if I must take one.

Those are my wish list as I see them. I am a wealthy man so I do not seek your support and I plan to donate the portrait to the Catholic Church." Aldo said.

"Well that is a major wish list...most especially the passport." Father Tim said.

"Again respectfully, these are not surprises, I outlined my requirements carefully in my letter to the Vatican, in no uncertain teinis, and I told the Holy Father that I would not show or deliver the portrait to anyone but his Holiness. Not because I want to be difficult, but because this was the command made of me by the angel. So I don't mean to be rude, but you have come a long way to Ohio to change the game in Rome."

"When could you travel? The Monsignor asked. "Tomorrow." Aldo said.

**************

The next few days were filled with communications via the fax in Aldo's farm office from Father Tim. They had returned safely to Rome and all the processes where now going forward including the application forms for the passport. Aldo had official passport photographs taken at FedEx Kinko and dispatched them via overnight with the application to Father Tim in Rome. It felt extremely freeing to send the application without any sense of guilt or any lies as to his former existence. He was simply Aldo Selleri, sixty-seven year old Italian seeking citizenship in Vatican City, Italy.

A communique' from the Sala Stampa della Santa Sede, the press office of the Holy See was received via fax at Aldo's office at 4:00 am. Of course it was now 10:00 am in Rome so there was great effort being made as though the rest of the world operated on the same clock as the Holy See. Aldo heard the fax and went to see who could possibly be operating at this hour. He was shocked to see the communique', knowing that he had specifically informed both priest, that he would not be available ...ever for a meeting with the press. Surely they had heard him and did not misunderstand. He read the note and it was a rather innocuous request for bonefides.

Aldo scrolled a remark on the communication sending it back to Father Tim... "How do these people know who I am, and how did they get my fax number...did you not understand that I will not meet with the press?"

One thing was certain from Aldo's point of view...someone was pulling some mighty long strings and they were pulling them quickly. At this rate Aldo felt that he could be before the Holy Father in Rome for an Audience before the end of November...and that would be just wonderful.

Several considerations remained, looking for solutions to issues of importance. Aldo tried to confront each of them... in as head on a manner as possible. There was the ever present issue of the confidentiality of the portrait. How was Aldo to maintain the confidential nature of the portrait on a 24/7 basis. He knew that he could not keep the portrait on his person 24/7 and therefore must seek alternate safekeeping. What were the options:

Could he possible ask his bank to courier the portrait into a 'street named account'.

Could he utilize the Client/Attorney privilege, having his local law firm contract with a law firm in Rome and then ship the portrait via special courier.

Could he make a color copy of the portrait since it only measured 12 x 14 out of the frame. Send the copy as though it was the original and carry the original on his person...inside his shirt.

Could he arrange with UPS or Federal Express to drop ship via overnight the color copy when it became apparent that the Audience with the Pope had been scheduled.

Each of these prospects could establish Aldo's alibi that he did not have possession of the portrait for security reasons and thereby circumvent any would be thieves or conspirators. Or those with political power to somehow have the portrait seized by the Polizia di Stato (Italian Police) when it arrived at the Aeroporto Leonardo da Vinci in Rome.

After much deliberation, Aldo, who was an avowed practitioner of the age old adage 'if something can go wrong, it will' decided that even with the prospect that he would have Diplomatic Immunity he could not chance being searched nor did he want to have an extra color copy of the portrait out there to be seized and duplicated. Therefore he chose to place his future in the capable hands of his local attorneys, Handmaker & Handmaker. Both good Jewish boys... so the importance of the portrait was greatly reduced. They would not care about the contents of the mailing piece so long as it wasn't some form of contraband or illegal copies from museum masters.

Two days later Aldo was in the office of Homer Handmaker. Aldo had been made comfortable with a nice cup of coffee and was seated in the large conference room when Handmaker came in and shook his client's hand.

"Well Aldo...ready to sell off another fifty acres?" he smiled. "No counselor, something a little more complicated." Aldo said.

"OK shoot, I am all ears...and nose." Again an effort at self deprecation in the form of Woody Allen, the wonderfully brilliant Jewish comedian, actor and film director. Aldo loved this form of humor and had a good belly laugh at the expense of his Jewish lawyer.

"Counselor, I am the owner of a religious portrait depicting the Holy Family. I want to donate this portrait to the Vatican. I have met with Vatican representatives and they are in the process of establishing an Audience with His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI. For security and confidentiality I wish to retain your firm to take possession of the portrait and upon notice from me send the portrait via Courier to a law firm with which you do business in Rome, Italy to receive the portrait for delivery to me. I have chosen this methodology because I do not wish to carry this valuable piece of art on the plane with the prospect that it could be lost or damaged." Aldo said.

"Must be an expensive piece?" Handmaker reckoned.

"Well I don't know if it is all that valuable but it is one of a kind and is therefore irreplaceable." Aldo said.

"So what would you say would be our exposure if something happened to the work of art." Handmaker asked.

"So I must answer your question with a question...what is the value of the Mona Lisa or the Last Supper...they are priceless and it would be impossible to place a value or even consider a price for insurance purposes."

"But Aldo you must recognize that we will have to insure the portrait." Handmaker said.

"But this will require making copies...and having those color copies in the public domain...will it not?"

"But of course." Handmaker said.

"Then I will sign off for no insurance on the piece...we will say that the art is of no value."

"You are the client...but I would recommend against sending a priceless piece of art via courier with no insurance." The attorney said.

"You have spoken correctly and legally...but I have to consider the possible leak to the press of the copy of the portrait and the very fact that it is so valued, it becomes the target of terrorist, con artist, the Paparazzi...no I would choose to send it along by a personal courier who will hand deliver it to your co-counsel just like it was some kind of deposition...without value."

"Do you know where you will be staying in Rome?" Handmaker asked

"Unless there are changes made by the Vatican, I have planned to stay at The Hassler Hotel, but this is subject to change. I will know the day I leave for certain and will fax my coordinates to you."

They agreed that the portrait would be handled in the normal flow of business with the exception that Aldo would provide the mailing package for the Handmaker law firm so that no one would see the contents and the explicit promise that there would be no copies of any kind on either end of the transaction. Amazing, no copies of any kind coming from two large law firms...maybe there was hope for the future.

Of course Aldo knew that he would never let the original portrait out of his sight. He would carefully incorporate the original painting with three or four other paintings, placing them in a business valise with several news magazines, which should render all the art of no apparent value. If someone did ask about the value of the art, Aldo could, with no difficulty, say that the art was of no value, was in his possession as advertising mock-ups and the pieces were copies of art which was uninsured.

In order to keep Aldo informed, Homer Handmaker faxed along the name and address of the law firm in Rome; Addison and Roscanti. Aldo knew that they would only be handling a copy but upon arrival the firm would be directed to hand deliver the precious cargo to Aldo at The Hassler Hotel. The perfect trap for would be thieves or provocateurs.

********************

Under special delivery from DHL, Aldo eyed the package with suspicion and great anxiety. It was, after all, from Vatican City. Could it be that the sixty- three year wait was finally over. Brought to a conclusion by an act of God...a modern miracle. Could it be that Aldo would be returning to his native Italy as a Diplomat for the Holy See.

Wow...heady stuff for a kid with no home, no father and raised anonymously by two very kind people who had made him a slave to illegitimacy.

Aldo sat at his desk and gazed out the window at the beautiful autumn day. Father Francis would have to be his first call if, indeed this was the passport. After all he had started the ball rolling as the go between. Although Father Francis was a non-­believer he had non the less carried the ball to the goal line and another Notre Damer would now take it over the goal line. Aldo opened the DHL folder...and there it was the red passport with large gold relief letters. Aldo looked inside and there was his photograph...his signature and his place in the world.

"Thank you Mother Mary!"

He was now processed and almost too nervous to call Father Francis, and then he would have to go by the Handmaker & Handmaker Law Office to deliver the portrait copy to Homer Handmaker, and of course he would just have to show off the new Diplomatic Passport to one of the most prestigious countries in the world.

Diplomat Aldo Selleri... it had a nice ring...what a way to go home... Aldo kept saying to himself.

"Yes Father Francis...it is Aldo, and I have just this moment received the passport sent especially by The Monsignor. Father Francis, I am so excited that I am about to burst with pride. Thank you so very much for your patience and your sensitivity to my personal dilemma. Aldo paused, but then rushed on!

Yes...yes, I know it is I who must now carry the day...but you know Father Francis, I do not believe the Blessed Mother would bring me this far in fifty years to let me fail...The Vatican does not understand it, but they want this to happen for the faithful, and I too am beginning to believe that something incalculable is about to take place. OK, yes, we will have dinner before I leave for Rome...No, No I would not ask you to take me to Kentucky...but thank you just the same."

Father Francis hung up the phone but the dial tone remained as Aldo stared out the window, and then Aldo just looked at, and handled the fine grained leather, admiring the beauty and the freedom of it. Again he looked at the passport photo. There he was, staring out at Aldo...he knew him but now he knew him not. What parts of his old self would Aldo leave in the wake of miracles. It was inevitable, now that he had been outed, for the real Aldo to emerge. Yesterday, he had secretly cringed at the sight of a police officer...any authority figure made the sweat bead on his lip. How long would it now take for that reaction to go away. Once again he had the Blessed Mother to thank...and then he saw it, there on the passport...his name and the prefix...Reverend...my God in heaven... they have made an error here and made me a priest.

Aldo went to the computer and sent an e-mail to Father Tim... "Have just received my beautiful passport...thanks for the speedy work...there does appear to be an error...the passport refers to me as Reverend, is there some error here or was this intentional. Also do you have any thoughts as to my travel plan and shall I book accommodations at The Hassler Hotel." Aldo hit the send button and laid the passport on the desk. It was now past midnight in Rome so the chances were good that an answer would be on the computer when he awoke.

********************

The small Jewish man with the big Jewish nose appeared to be out of place in Coyote's Red Neck Saloon. But Homer Handmaker was a man comfortable in his skin, unlike his client Aldo Selleri who was accustomed to charades, Homer approached every situation as though he was the 'Bull of the Woods' ...and in his woods this was true... but down here the mantra may be dangerous. So Homer slid into a vacant booth, lit a cigar and waited as the bar maid ambled over for his order.

"What's yours big fellow." She smiled.

"Nice ass," Homer thought... "I'll just have an hour of your action."

She knew what he was thinking and pushed her ample breast closer to him as she leaned over the table to pick up a tip left by a previous customer... "you won't be needing this." She said.

"I'm just a poor lawyer trying to make out, and ...you know what I need." Homer surprised himself with the bawdy comment.

She laughed...she had heard it all... "You bad boy, its too early in the afternoon for sex and too late for a nooner."

"Just my Jewish luck...I find a good Irish girl and she is on some fucked up time table... so I guess I'll have to settle for a long neck."

"That will play well with your own...long neck."

"By the way...I got this problem with my ex shortin' me on child support."

"That's easy...we just garnishee his ass and let the court collect for you...here is my card, give me a call when you have an off day...I'll see that you get your money to take care of those babies." He said.

"I don't know that I can afford you." She said.

"Ever hear of probono."

"You turn me on with that dirty talk... and I love your big Jew nose."

"No, no...this time I am dead serious...in the law business we have to do a certain amount of probono work...in other words... free legal advice for those who are unable to pay...my normal rate is three hundred fifty dollars per hour...I bet you don't work cheap either?" he said.

"Maybe we could work a Quid Pro Quo." She said smiling.

Homer was surprised at how easy she had slid the Latin across the table...sounded like a law school student. "A This For That...sounds great to me."

Freddy McNair opened the door to the darkened barroom. He waited as his pupils adjusted to the darkness. He spotted Homer making out with the barmaid and made his way to the booth.

"Well, if it ain't Freddy Fingers...I thought you had blown town with the ten bucks you shorted me on that bar tab, slim ball." She said

"Naw...been sick, did not want to come down here and contaminate a working class lady with responsibility." The accent was pure Brooklynese...just about seven hundred miles southeast from the docks.

"Counselor, would you tell Jan here that I am good for the sawbuck...now I'll just have what my counselor is having and on his tab."

"Yeh...you need a counselor alright...but the kind I'm referring to deals with whackos."

Jan left the two of them and went back to the bar to pull the two long neck bottles from the cooler beneath the bar... all the time she was talking to the bartender and nodding to the booth with Homer and Freddy Fingers.

"I guess your reputation precedes you." Homer said to Freddy Fingers.

"Yee...it's a small world down here... whata you got, my man?"

"Small job...involves a delivery by DHL."

Jan returned with the two long necks... "You want to run a tab?"

Homer handed Jan a fifty dollar bill.

"No we'll be out of here in a few minutes, which should clear up the sawbuck Freddy Fingers owes you and keep the change."

"Heh...thanks counselor...I knew this was going to be a good day." She left the two of them and returned to the bar smiling with the freshly printed fifty planted between her ample tits.

"So what's with this DHL thing?"

"Simple job...DHL stops at our building, picks up several parcels and heads downtown for other stops...your job is to board the van, without detection...nab the package from our office and hightail it before the driver gets back... simple enough." Homer asked.

"Heh...piece of cake...sure I can handle with no problem...but what's the action for this little heist considering the danger and the time I'll serve if this driver gets back before I get out of the truck?" Freddy asked.

"Five hundred dollars when you deliver the piece unopened."

"Five hundred now...and a grand when I deliver the piece unopened." Freddy said.

Homer reached into his pocket and withdrew a wad of cash...he began to count out five one hundred dollar bills which wasn't lost on Jan the barmaid or the bartender or the other afternoon drinkers.

"Five hundred now...and five hundred when you deliver my mail unopened." Homer said.

"Gez counselor, I have to make a living you know..." Freddy said.

"That's the deal." Homer said as he slid out of the booth with the long neck in hand.

"Well, ok...but how do I know when...?" he asked.

"Go get a cheap cell phone and call me with the number." Homer said.

******************

Aldo was correct...when he awakened, his computer was blinking with the message... "You've got mail." Aldo never saw the message that he didn't think of Meg Ryan...darling girl that Aldo never missed the opportunity to watch on his cable. Of course he had not seen any of her current movies in as much as he was simply too tight to purchase the HBO and other movie channel. He had to be content to catch her on the chic channel when he could. But then that always gave him something else to look forward too.

The e-mail from Father Tim was direct... "Your notification is noted...sorry for the error...you will not be inconvenienced further, I will have your new passport by the time you arrive but for now you will have to travel as Father Aldo Selleri...hope this doesn't cause any embarrassment. Travel whenever you are able to get reservations...The Hassler Hotel will be perfect, except that Monsignor Voght may want you to stay here in Vatican City. Send e-mail with travel itinerary.

Well there you go Aldo thought...he did have a black suit but he would forego the clerical collar so as not to place himself in an uncomfortable position.

Too early to call Homer Handmaker, so Aldo decided to send him an e-mail as soon as his reservations to Rome was confirmed. This, he was able to do on line quickly. Seven days hence, the supersaver flight from Cincinnati took him directly to Rome departing at 8:45 pm with arrival scheduled for DaVinci at 11:45 am on November 15, 2005.

Aldo sent the e-mail to Homer asking that he send the original portrait the day after his departure via DHL on November 16, 2005.

********************

The DHL truck was omnipresent in Centerville, Ohio. A suburban community of Dayton it had the sprawling shopping centers, triple lanes and no sidewalks. Handmaker & Handmaker was located on Alex-Bell Highway in a six story professional office building which they owned and leased out three floors to other professionals...mostly lawyers. It wasn't convenient to the court house but then it was equidistant to all of the county courthouses and only ten miles from the Federal Court in downtown Dayton off 1-75 at 3rd Street exist.

The DHL driver was the darling of the girls in the office...they joked about his tanned legs in the summer and the big bulge in his crotch in every season. Today Jerry Toomes, the DHL driver, had on new black shoes as well. Jerry picked up the packages from Handmaker & Handmaker...made a few moments of small talk about the coming winter and moved on to the next floor for pick ups at the other offices. He took twenty minutes to make the pick ups and deliveries...five more minutes than allocated but he had to get a signature from a new client who was indisposed.

The DHL driver's schedule was duly noted by Freddy Fingers, parked nearby in the small Chevete across the street from his van.

Jerry whistled as he enjoyed the sunny morning, a man enjoying his job and his new black shoes against his tanned legs. He knew as well that he was now behind schedule but he would make it up at the next stop. Part of the routine of trying to stay ahead of the office and the part that made his job fun.

Jerry hadn't cleared the door to Kinko's when Freddy Fingers climbed into the van...expertly picked the lock to the partition separating the packages from the cab of the van. Freddy quickly located the parcels from the last pick up...he took those and just as professionally hung a device of his making on the back of the partition...it was set to explode in seven minutes.

The Chevete pulled away as Jerry Toomes, the DHL driver, hustled out of Kinko's and jumped into his truck...he made up the lost time at the Handmaker building. He started out of the Kinko lot, which emptied into the Sam's lot before heading toward Highway 741 when the plastic explosive exploded. There was a shattering explosion, followed by smoke and fire from the crumpled truck which flew more than fifty feet, landing on a Mercedes just coming from Sam's. The commotion in the Sam's lot was frantic...everyone hustled to the driver of the Mercedes who was miraculously pulled to safety without major injury. Jerry Toomes, the DHL driver's new black shoes were found at the front of Sam's...they were filled with blood.

*******************

It was dark along the Ohio River at the Newport Levee. Freddy Fingers was nervous as he waited for Homer to show for the package. Before he saw him Freddy Fingers heard the squeak of his shoes...and then a silent hulk sat down on the bench...Freddy cringed at the sight of Wermuth... six foot seven, three hundred twenty pounds...Freddy knew Wermuth's reputation... now lighting a cigarette. Wermuth blew the smoke into the chill of the night air and the smoke combined with the cold air formed an eerie halo about the two men. It was more than a scene setter and Freddy Fingers was not feeling good about this situation.

"Got the package Freddy?" Wermuth said in a voice that sounded as though he was chocking.

"Sure thing Wermuth." Freddy handed the man the DHL tube.

"This tube has been opened Freddy...the boss ain't gonna like that none at all." Wermuth said.

"Yeh Wermuth... things went bad with the DHL truck...I didn't think the driver would be back so quick...I only meant to set fire to the contents of the truck so that there would be no prospect that the cops could trace this heist back to the boss...I experimented with this material... and it was sorta like the scene from the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid 'The Whole in the Wall Gang is going to rob this train and Butch places too much dynamite on the safe in the postal car where all the money is, and he blows up the entire car...the sides of the train comes off and all the money is blowing about the countryside... the bandits are chasing this money around...it was just nuts...did you see it Wermuth?"

"Naw...I don't watch no fag movies."

"Whata ya mean fag movie...this was a classic?" Freddy implored.

"Look Freddy, grow up...Redford and Newman were in love, they chased each other all over the west and into Bolivia for Christ sake...they were queer for each other."

"So look Wermuth...you gotta know how it is for me now...I am so hot with the law...dead man and all...the boss has just got to understand, the dough ain't right now...so, you know, I opened this here package and found this art...so I just made a couple of copies for safekeeping...figured they would be worth something to the boss...you know enough to get me out of town and away from this heat. I don't like doing business this way but the boss forces guys to do things because he is so unfair"

"Seems you got it figured out...what is your guess as to the value of these pictures." Wermuth struggled to speak.

"Wermuth, I need ten grand to get the hell out of here." Freddy said.

"Were are these extra copies, Freddy...no bullshit now."

"I got them stashed at the bus station...you know in one of them lockers."

Wermuth adroitly flipped the cigarette into the river...he stood just behind Freddy Fingers and just as quickly he slipped a knotted rope around Freddy's neck. Freddy squirmed against the weight of the big man...like a fish out of water. And then Wermuth stuck an ice pick into Freddy's jugular vein. He then removed the ice pick and stuck it into the open right eye of Freddy Fingers. For all intents Freddy was pithed, the way a biologist might dispatch a frog he was about to dissect. Cold blooded wasn't a description. From the way it had been done, it was an act performed almost passionately, as if, with each involuntary squirm and muscular jolt the victim gave as his brain was slowly and deliberately crushed inside his skull, the killer was enjoying it. Maybe even sexually. If nothing else, the sheer inventiveness of the act said that the perpetrator was a person with absolutely no concept of conscience. A true sociopath who had complete indifference to the feelings, pain, or well-being of other people. A human being truly evil since birth.

The last act confirmed Wermuth's mental state... with the precision of a surgeon, Wermuth cut off each finger and thumb at the joint with a razor sharp ringed instrument and tossed the remnants of the finger tips into the river.

"I don't like doin beness this way either Freddy Finger...but you pay the price when you fuck up as you have...now only the fish will know who you are." Wermuth said to himself.

Wermuth took Freddy's wallet, all his cash, coins and the keys in his coat pocket. He took the prepaid cell phone and threw it out into the river. He sat Freddy on the bench, put his cap back on his head and walked away. Freddy appeared to have fallen asleep on the park bench while enjoying the twinkling colored lights on the still Ohio River reflecting the Cincinnati skyline.

*******************

"Passport...por favor." Aldo faced the Custom's Agent in what was to be the first showdown with the new passport. There had been no hitch at the Cincinnati Airport when Aldo checked in...but that was as expected. The officials would have plenty of time to check out all the passengers before they disembarked at DaVinci.

"You are American priest?" The Agent spoke English with a heavy Italian accent.

"No, I am Italian studying in America." Aldo said. "A citizen of Vatican City."

"I see that you are Reverend Selleri...but this passport has not been used except for the one way from America."

"I will soon return to America for my studies as soon as I have completed some work at the Vatican." Aldo said.

"Do you have anything to declare?"

"No."

"May I see the business Valise."

"Certainly."

"Grazie."

"Prego." Aldo replied.

"And this art..."

" No, no...just copies that I wish to show to the Vatican press." Aldo said.

"And, where will you be staying during your visit?"

"I will be at The Hassler Hotel, and if they are able to find room for me at the Vatican Seminary."

"You will please let us know if you do switch your living quarters, Father Selleri."

"Certainly."

"How long are you planning to stay in Rome?"

"No more than ten days, Maam." Aldo was relaxing.

"Have a good visit Father Selleri." The Agent handed the Valise and the passport back to Aldo.

"Grazie." Aldo said as he moved on toward the taxi stand. The customs agent pressed a button beneath the customs desk.

*******************

Aldo was simply in a state of shock...here he was in Rome...a free man...nothing can explain or replace it...he noticed that they had turned on Ponte Palantino across the Tiber to The Hassler Hotel...it was nearing noon and Aldo wanted to taste the culture. He would stash his luggage after checking into the hotel. For the first time it came to him how singular his life really was. With the exception of his farm hands, his attorney...Aldo had no genuine friends, no soul mates of any kind. He had never permitted himself to have a serious relationship with a woman or anyone else for that matter. Now a whole new world of possibilities was dawning...but Aldo must be careful and slip slowly into the new role.

Turning from the desk in his hotel room, Aldo went to the window and looked out. The city was a dazzle of late morning sun. He could not wait for the evening... to see the sparkle of Rome. Below him, the Spanish Steps and the Piazza di Spagna beyond... teamed with people...a mass congregation of coming and going and just being, with little collections of uniformed police here and there making sure none of it got out of hand as it so often did.

Farther away, he could see a convergence of narrow streets and alleyways, above with the orange-and-cream tile rooftops of the apartments, shops and small hotels fingered out in ancient orderly blocks until they reached the black band of the Tiber. Across it was the lighted dome of St. Peter's, beneath it sprawled the Vatican itself, residence of the Pope. For thousands of years, the seat of authority for the world's nine hundred fifty million Roman Catholics...and the place where Aldo may spend the rest of his life.