Moscow Rules

After all, there were few men who could say they had actually stepped in front of a bullet meant for the Supreme Pontiff.
     
     
    “It might be in your interests, Monsignor Donati, to limit your exposure to certain facts surrounding the circumstances of Ostrovsky’s death.” Gabriel’s tone was lawyerly. “Otherwise, you might find yourself in a ticklish situation when the investigators start asking questions.”
     
     
    “I’ve been in ticklish situations before.” Donati blew a stream of smoke toward the high ceiling and gave Gabriel a sideways glance. “We both have. Just tell me everything you know and let me worry about how to handle the questions from the investigators.”
     
     
    “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to confession, Luigi.”
     
     
    “Try it,” Donati said. “It’s good for the soul.”
     
     
    Gabriel may have harbored serious doubts about the benefits of confession, but he had none when it came to the trustworthiness of Luigi Donati. Their bond had been forged in secrecy and was drenched in blood, some of it their own. The former Jesuit knew how to keep a secret. He was also skilled at telling the occasional untruth, as long as it was in the service of a noble cause. And so, as they walked the silent halls of the Apostolic Palace together, Gabriel told him everything, beginning with his summons to Assisi and ending with Ostrovsky’s death.
     
     
    “Do I have to remind you that we had an agreement? We asked the Italian authorities to allow you to reside in the country under a false identity. We gave you work and accommodations—very pleasant accommodations, I might add. In exchange for this, we asked only that you refrain from any and all work for your former employer.”
     
     
    Gabriel offered an uninspired version of the “Navot defense”—that it was not really an operation, only a conversation. Donati dismissed it with a wave of his hand.
     
     
    “You gave us your word, Gabriel, and you broke it.”
     
     
    “We had no choice. Ostrovsky said he would only talk to me.”
     
     
    “Then you should have picked somewhere else to meet him other than my Basilica. You’ve laid a potential scandal on our doorstep and that’s the last thing we need right now.”
     
     
    “The difficult questions will be directed toward Moscow, not the Vatican.”
     
     
    “Let’s hope you’re correct. I’m obviously no expert, but it appears Ostrovsky was poisoned by someone.” Donati paused. “Someone who apparently didn’t want him talking to you .”
     
     
    “I concur.”
     
     
    “Because he’s a Russian, and because the Russians have a history of this sort of thing, there’s bound to be speculation about a Kremlin connection.”
     
     
    “It’s already begun, Luigi. A hundred reporters are camped at the edge of St. Peter’s Square saying that very thing.”
     
     
    “What do you believe?”
     
     
    “Ostrovsky told us he was afraid of the siloviki . It’s the word Russians use to describe the gang of former KGB men who’ve set up shop inside the Kremlin. He also told us that the information he had concerned a grave threat to the West and to Israel.”
     
     
    “What sort of threat?”
     
     
    “He didn’t get a chance to tell us that.”
     
     
    Donati clasped his hands behind his back thoughtfully and looked down at the marble floor. “For the moment, Ostrovsky’s death is a matter for the police and security services of the Vatican, but it is unlikely to remain so. I anticipate pressure will build rather quickly for us to grant the Italian authorities primacy in the investigation. Fortunately, murder is not a common occurrence at the Vatican—except when you come to town, of course. We simply don’t have the technical expertise necessary to carry out an inquiry of this complexity, especially if sophisticated poisons or toxins are involved.”
     
     
    “How long before you’ll have to let the Italians take over?”
     
     
    “If I had to guess, the request will be on my desk by tomorrow. If we refuse, we’ll be accused of engaging in a cover-up. The press will spin wild theories about dark forces at play behind the walls of the Vatican. Which brings us back to the photographs of you inside the Basilica at the time of Ostrovsky’s death.”
     
     
    “What about them?”
     
     
    “Dropping the prints into the pontifical shredder is only a temporary solution. As you might expect, the images are stored permanently in the