Authors: A. J. Quinnell
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Thriller, #Thrillers
"Tell
me," Guido said with barely-concealed curiosity. "What does he
know?"
Silently
Creasy collected his thoughts and then smiled at the recollection.
"Before
he told me anything he asked to see the contents of my briefcase. It was
embarrassing. I had a tape recorder in it. Nothing else, just the bloody tape
recorder."
Guido
grinned. "What happened?"
Creasy
shook his head at the memory.
"First
he admired it. Naturally it was state of the art, only about three inches by
two, but it can pick up a conversation from twenty metres away. Then the damned
priest gave me a long story about how short of funds his unit was, and how
useful such a device would be for him in his work...Naturally, I donated the
bloody thing."
Smiling, Guido said, "Never underestimate the church."
"Never again!" Creasy answered with feeling.
He went on to relate what he had learned from the priest. At first, he had to listen to
a long lecture about Satanism and its antecedents.
These of course went back beyond Christianity and flourished in tribal communities
all over the world. The priest had explained some of the psychology behind it
and its uses. At this point he explained that, apart from his other
qualifications, Father De Sanctis had a master's degree in psychology. Creasy
had also had to listen to several theories relating to the mixture of good and
evil which existed amongst all mankind, and the constant on-going battle between them.
At this stage the priest had given a dissertation about exorcism and how the church
still had specialist exorcists who were kept busy. He himself had spent three
years doing that work. It was only over coffee and Cognac that the priest had
talked about Satanism and black magic in the modern age. At Creasy's suggestion
he had confined himself to Europe and its links with peripheral regions. There
were several sects stretching from Scandinavia to the Mediterranean; some were
linked, others operated independently. They had their roots in medieval times
and still used some of the same rites and rituals.
Apologetically, De Sanctis had explained that some of these sects were led by renegade priests
and other clerics, some of whom covered themselves by also practising the true
faith. He described a typical black mass with the attendant feasting,
blasphemous prayers, animal sacrifices, the drinking of obnoxious substances,
initiations of new members and finally sexual orgies of unbelievable perversions.
Animals always played a major part, sometimes in the form of headdresses worn by
participants and sometimes as objects of worship.
Very often these sects took their names from a species of animal. The priests and
high priests or priestesses held enormous psychological power over the sect's
members, who only progressed up the hierarchy with their blessings. Often money
was involved, because many such members came from wealthy backgrounds. More
importantly, in order to improve himself within the sect, a member had to
commit ever more bestial and obscene acts until his very soul was lost forever.
At this point Guido had crossed himself and muttered. "I have heard of such
things. But how does it involve 'The Blue Ring'?"
"In a very simple but obvious way," Creasy said.
The priest had explained how certain ruthless and charismatic individuals, very
often charismatic priests who had broken away from their true calling, entered
and manipulated some sects or even created them for their own egos or simply
for material ends. The priest had pointed out the similarities between other
modern cults, particularly in the west coast of the USA. Cults with
charismatic, even hypnotic leaders, which pretended a spurious religion, for
instance the Moonies, Scientology and a variety of eastern gurus. With a wan
smile, the priest had said, "There really is no limit to human gullibility."
"He knows about 'The Blue Ring'," Creasy stated. "Perhaps he did not tell
me all he knows. It has been in existence for about eighty years. It has or had
connections with a bastard offshoot of Coptic Christianity and has particular roots in Egypt."
The priest had stated that, as far as their records showed, 'The Blue Ring' had
also had early connections with a French group called 'The Daughters of
the Goat'. The French authorities had supposedly smashed that ring in
1934, but there had been no arrests because its members included high-ranking
establishment figures. Both religious and political coercion had been involved.
In Italy 'The Blue Ring' had enjoyed protection in the nineteen-thirties from
certain Fascist luminaries.
The Vatican intelligence unit had thought that 'The Blue Ring' had died out during
the war. But rumours had surfaced in the late fifties that it was still in
existence, although in a different form. Rumours pointing to the suspicion that
it engaged in extortion, blackmail and an extreme form of forced prostitution.
These rumours were given substance during the investigation of the so-called
Masonic Lodge P2. Several oblique references were made to it in seized papers
and during interrogation of some of their members. By now Guido was totally fascinated.
"In that case," he asked, "why did the Italian authorities do nothing about it?"
Creasy smiled grimly. "That's exactly what I'm going to ask our friend Satta."
Creasy did not have to ask the question. A phone call came from Satta at dawn. He was
flying down to Naples on the eight a.m. plane and it was important that Creasy
meet him at the airport.
They
had cappuccini and brioches in the coffee shop. There was latent anger in the
Colonel's eyes.
"I'm
thinking of taking early retirement," he said bitterly.
"What
happened?"
Satta
looked around the almost deserted room, leant forward and said, "Just
before I left for home yesterday I was called into the office of a very senior
general of the carabinieri. He should have been put out to grass years ago, but
the man has strong political connections right across the party spectrum. He
wanted to know why my assistant, Bellu, had put a twenty-four hour watch on two
men, namely Jean Lucca Donati and Anwar Hussein. It was a surprise, because I
did not anticipate that anyone higher up would know about it. But that's the
carabinieri for you!"
"So
what was your reaction?"
The
Italian spread his hands eloquently.
"First
I controlled my anger. Then I told the old fart that I was following up a lead
involving political corruption. He questioned me about it but obviously I could
give him no answers. He became angry and gave me two orders: first, I was to
withdraw all surveillance from those two individuals; second, I was to give him
a written report on why I had instigated the investigation."
"Can
you do the second?" Creasy asked.
Satta
smiled grimly.
"Oh,
yes. It will be a very short report and will simply mention a suspicion about a
couple of the good General's friends. But I've had to call off the surveillance
because we have to use a special department for that, and now the General will
be monitoring it."
Creasy
took a sip of his coffee. He said, "I think I know why your General acted
that way." He recounted his lunch at L'Eau Vive with Grazzini and the
priest.
As he
listened, Satta's face was sombre. Very quietly he said, "My friend,
you're up against something deeper than you or I had realised. I have to tell
you that last night Paolo Grazzini was shot to death leaving a Rome restaurant.
Two bullets in the heart from a parked car."
"A
gang war?" Creasy asked.
Satta
shook his head.
"I
think not. There is no reason for it within the organisation. But Grazzini was
not the only mafioso to die yesterday. There was another. He was retired, but
he used to work for Grazzini's clan. His name was Torquinio Trento." The
Italian's voice went even quieter. "He was fished out of the river Tiber.
He had been tortured...an inverted cross had been carved into his forehead by a
sharp knife. His genitals were missing."
"It's
a different ball-game," Creasy stated. "They're not just a bunch of
evil bastards who trade in women these people go to the very bottom. Not only
can they stop a high-level carabinieri enquiry, it also seems they can take out
a top Mafia capo on his own territory."
The
whole team was assembled around the same oval table on the terrace of the
Pensione Splendide. For twenty minutes Creasy had briefed them on what had
happened in the past few days while they had been taking a break. He now felt
it necessary to open the door for anyone who, in the light of these new
circumstances, wished to gracefully retire.
He
started with Guido, reminding him of his promise given to his dead wife never
to kill again. He strongly suggested that in future the team's base should be elsewhere.
Guido smiled and shook his head.
"I
never promised Julia not to defend myself or my friends. She would not have
wanted that. At the moment I only have four guests in the pensione: an old
German couple who are leaving in the morning and two British backpackers who
are not sure when they are leaving. I'll find them alternative accommodation
tomorrow. This will be your base."
Creasy
glanced at Pietro, who immediately realised the implication behind the look.
Angrily he said, "I made no promise to anybody. I guard the base with
Guido."
Next,
Creasy turned to the Dane. He said, "Jens, this whole thing has gone over
the top. It is not just dangerous, it's like walking on very thin ice with hot
boots. I'm assuming that 'The Blue Ring' think they have cut off all sources of
enquiry. I'm assuming that they don't know about us. I could be wrong."
"I
think you're right," Jens answered. "Unless Grazzini told either the
old man Trento about you, or if he told the priest...It seems unlikely."
"But
it's still extra dangerous," Creasy insisted. "You have to think of
your wife and child and the fact that you're a policeman, not a
'soldier'."
The
Dane inclined his head in understanding and then stated, "That last night
in Copenhagen I talked to Birgitte. I deliberately exaggerated the danger. She
urged me to go on. She understands how important it is to me. As for being a
policeman...well...having lost Satta and Bellu, I'm the only policeman you've
got left." He smiled. "I stay."
Creasy
looked at The Owl, who said in a tone to preclude argument, "I also
stay." Before Creasy could say anything to the others he got his answer.
Maxie glanced at Miller and Callard and received their slight nods. He said to
Creasy, "Stop wasting your breath. Let's look to the future."
Michael
spoke for the first time. "We have our targets: Donati and Hussein. We
need to have a little talk with one or the other...or both."
Creasy
said, "There is something else...Before Satta had to pull off the
surveillance, they followed Hussein to the airport here. He flew to Rome and
got a connecting flight to Tunis. That was two days ago." He looked at the
Dane and said with a smile, "OK, Mister Detective. Why don't you sum it up
for us?"
The
Dane smiled back reached behind him for his briefcase and took out a lined,
yellow legal pad and a gold Parker pen. He placed the pad carefully in front of
him, uncapped the pen and said with a smile, "A gift from the grateful
parents of a girl I once found and returned...Don't think I can afford such
things on my salary." He smiled again. "There will be enough eyebrows
raised in Copenhagen when certain people see me driving around in a BMW."
He
looked down at the pad. "Let's start from the beginning." He glanced
at the young man beside him. "Michael first heard about 'The Blue
Ring' from his dying mother. He contacted Blondie who put him on to me. He
more or less hired me to go with him to Marseille where we screwed up and got
caught by what now appears to be an arm's-length supplier to one sector of 'The
Blue Ring'. Creasy pulled us out of it and, by so doing, gained a daughter. He
put together this team and in due course got caught himself and lost a
finger." He glanced at Creasy's right hand. "It seems that the loss
may have been worthwhile. It gave us an insight into what we are facing. Let us
immediately discount or at least put into perspective the Satanism aspect of
the whole affair. Of course it exists...I know of examples in Scandinavia. But
what we learned from the priest De Sanctis indicates that the hierarchy of 'The
Blue Ring' use it for their own purposes rather than out of belief. It is a
clever but not uncommon phenomenon. They built their powerbase during the
Fascist era. They were not alone in this: Hitler and his henchmen used a
similar tactic in creating myths about the SS and binding them with mystical
oaths and the rest of the paraphernalia." He wrote a word on the yellow
pad.
Michael leaned across slightly and read it: 'Paraphernalia'. Michael
chuckled. The Dane gave him a narrow look and continued.
"We
can assume that there are two profit centres for 'The Blue Ring'. One is the
white slave trade, and the other is coercion and blackmail by enticing wealthy
individuals into their cult." He wrote another word on his pad:
'Motivation'. He looked around the table and said, "Their
motivation is money and power. They go hand in hand, but with such people power
is usually more important...In my opinion our strategy should be in some way
aimed at both the power and the money."
"How?"
Michael asked.
Jens
shrugged and said, "I'm a detective more than a strategist." He
gestured at Creasy. "I leave that to the expert."
Creasy's
eyes were narrowed in thought. He looked up at the Dane and then at the rest of
them. He said, "We have to assume that they do not know who we are. They
may suspect that somebody's coming at them, but I think after all these years
of virtual immunity they will be arrogant in their powers. We have to attack
them from behind."