Pandora's Ark

CHAPTER SIX

Cardinal Bonasero Vessucci sat in the Economy class looking out the window at the ocean below. White caps broke against waves that matched the color of an overcast sky, that of battleship gray. And rain began to dapple against the window as the plane rode the leading edge of a turbulent wind.

For the past few hours he considered many things, especially the moments on the papal veranda standing alongside Pope Pius holding counsel on many subjects, usually on splendid days where the sun was high in a cerulean blue sky. But he kept thinking about one thing: the stone guardrail that encompassed the landing.

It was beautifully crafted, the stonework bearing the images of angels and cherubs and stood nearly five-foot high, which was taller than most rails since it acted as a safety feature to keep those from toppling to the cobblestones below.

What was the reason for Pope Gregory to lean over the rail to such a degree that he would lose his balance and fall, especially at such an early hour when the shadows were at their darkest? Had he seen something below?

He rubbed his chin at the thought. Possibly, he considered. But there were other considerations as well. The man could have hoisted himself along the railing, and as an abomination to God cast himself over its edge to the street below, which Bonasero immediately disputed with incredulity. Or he could have been pushed. But this, too, was disputed with incredulity, since it would infer that Gregory was murdered.

Still, something nagged at him, something that went beyond the surface since the quick answer by investigating authorities was that it was nothing more than a horrible accident; therefore, any other alternatives were summarily dismissed with no need for further examination.

So the final report would read as this: Pope Gregory had died from the consequences of the fall. And that may be true, he thought, at least to a certain degree. But what precipitated the fall to begin with bothered him.

The cardinal closed his eyes, settled back in his seat, and waited for the plane to touchdown in Rome with a single thought on his mind: The pope’s death was not as simple or as clear cut as it seemed.

This he was sure of.