CHAPTER 3: You Are Here

 

The Vatican City

 

When Karen Bechard arrived in Rome, a driver holding a placard with her name on it was waiting for her. Karen moved through the noisy throng, carry-on in hand, and let him escort her outside to a waiting stretch Maserati. She was attired in a long sweeping skirt, turtleneck, and bomber jacket, all of indigo wool. The tops of her crinkled suede boots were hidden under the skirt.

"I'm Paula Haggart," she said in Italian.

The young driver smiled, said, "I'm Arturo. I'm to drive you to the Vatican City. This way, please."

When Arturo opened the cardoor, two other men were sitting in the back, both wearing the robes of bishops.

"Nice welcome," Karen remarked as she sat across from them. Arturo got behind the wheel and started up.

"I'm Bishop Varian, and this is Bishop Sylvanus."

Karen shook hands with both men. Varian was a thin man with long fingers and a nervous smile. Sylvanus was nearly twice his girth, with rosy cheeks, strong hands, and eyes that did not smile when the rest of his face did. Both men were in their mid-fifties.

"I'm sorry you had to make this trip for nothing," Sylvanus said.

"Excuse me?" Karen replied.

"Yes. The insurance claim has already been approved and honored."

"I'd think you'd be eager to find the the Birth of Venus."

"We would under other circumstances. However, the only person who knew where it was hidden is dead. So, you can see there is no hope of ever recovering it."

"You seem awful nonchalant about it."

It was Bishop Varian who spoke this time. "What can one do, eh?"

"You don't mind if I take a look at the paperwork, do you?" Karen said.

"No, of course not. The president of International Treasures Insurance has overseen the entire claims process personally. You may also speak with him."

"Well now," Karen said with an easy smile. "I suppose that makes my job a lot easier."

Sylvanus said nothing and Varian turned to look out the window.

The limosine reached the main entrance to the Vatican City, located on the Piazza di San Pietro and Arturo drove up the cobbled roadway and parked. He got out and opened the door for his passengers.

"This way, please," Bishop Varian said, and the group walked the wide steps to the ornate entrance and were met by two church security guards.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to turn in your weapon, it isn't allowed within the bounderies of the Vatican City."

Karen looked at them blankly.

"Ma'am?"

"But I'm an official U.N. agent. I'm authorized to carry it anywhere in the world."

"I'm afraid that doesn't apply here."

"Really."

"Yes."

With a pained look on her face, Karen took her Glock-20, removed the clip, cleared the chamber, and reluctantly handed gun and clip to one of the guards.

"Don't lose it," Karen said. "Or I'll be back."

The Bishops led Karen inside the Piazza. It wasn't hard to figure out where all the tithes of the Holy Roman Empire ended up throughout the ages. The opulance was evidenced in the marbled floors, the meticulously carved statues, the guilded detailing, and the vaulted ceilings. Karen was a little breathless at the sight of it all. She was ushered into an office where several men sat waiting.

Two of them were in tailored suits, the third wore the robes of a Cardinal. Bishop Sylvanus introduced them as Milo Fabrere, president of the insurance company; his second in command, Niles Ferdinand; and Cardinal Fallini.

Karen sat down in the offered chair and draped one knee over the other. "I'm here to go over the claims for a stolen painting, Birth of Venus."

Everyone looked at everyone else until one of the suits spoke up. He was the second, Niles, a narrow man in horn-rimmed glasses. "Weren't you notified? Everything has been approved. The checks have been made out and deposited. There is no reason for the U.N. to be involved."

Karen slowly looked at each one of them, then chuckled briefly. "I don't believe this," she said to herself, but loud enough for everyone to else to hear. She looked them over again, before allowing her anger to show. "You guys must be arrogant beyond all human capacity, because I refuse to believe you could be that stupid!"

"I don't understand," Milo Fabrere said in puzzlement.

"You assholes honestly think that just because I'm a woman, you can run any kind of scam on me?"

"I will not tolerate the use of profanity in this church!" Cardinal Fallini said.

"I don't give a shit, you old hypocrate!" Karen stood and leaned forward on the desk. "I want every copy of every document pertaining to this alleged claim, including the checks, or I will call in and have every one of your accounts frozen faster than you can spit!"

"Can she do that?" the junior exec asked, looking at his superior.

"You want to find out!" Karen snapped, directing a withering glare at him. He visibly shrank.

Bishop Sylvanus huffed, said, "I'll not have you--"

"I don't have all day, gentlemen," Karen cut in, taking a cellular phone out of her carry-on.

"All right!" Milo Fabrere said. "Just a moment." He and the church officials began gathering paperwork, which they stuffed into a folder. Milo Fabrere handed it to Karen. "You'll find everything in order."

"I'm sure I will," Karen said, flipping through the papers. She noticed they were computer printouts and looked up. "Give me the disks."

"What!?" Milo Fabrere stammered.

"You heard me. Hurry, now. The longer I'm here, the more pissed I get, and the closer you come to having your accounts frozen."

Bishop Varian quickly moved to a cabinet, unlocked it, and handed Karen two 3.5 floppies. She put them and the folder into her carry-on.

"I'll contact you in a few days with my findings. In the meantime, your accounts will be monitored. If there is any unusual activity, they will be immediately frozen. It's been nice doing business with you, gentlemen. Don't bother escorting me--I can find my own way out."

Karen left the office, under their hostile glares. "Scheming old farts," she said once she was outside. "First thing's first. If I was an art thief, where would I hide such a valuable painting?"

She collected her gun at the entrance, making it a point that the guards saw her put the clip in. She smiled at them sweetly and stepped to the limosine.

"Do you know where a lady can find a nice hotel in Rome?" she asked the driver.

"Yes, Ma'am," Arturo said. "I will take you there."

He helped Karen in, started the limo, and pulled off.

 

 

Inside the office, Milo threw some papers down on the desk. "Can you believe that little short-haired bitch?"

"Mister Fabrere!" Bishop Sylvanus chided.

"What are we going to do about her?" Niles asked.

"Nothing at all," Cardinal Fallini said. "Her entire case depends on finding that painting. The only person who knows where it's hidden is dead. She can do nothing."

"That painting will be a noose around all of our necks," Varian muttered.

"You worry too much," Sylvanus said.

"Still, I don't think this Haggart will simply go away."

"There are ways to deal with that problem," Cardinal Fallini said. "You know what to do, Bishop Sylvanus."

"Yes, Your Eminence." Sylvanus turned to leave.

"And everyone please see to it that the Pope hears nothing of this matter, should he return from his world tour ahead of schedule."