The Spear of Destiny

Chapter TEN



Natalie, Dennis, Hutchinson and their guide Luigi Alberto all squeezed through the airport style scanners and into St Peter’s square to join the hundreds of tourists already there. They had spent the morning exploring ancient Rome and had left, in what was Alberto’s opinion, the best for last. Natalie smiled and pointed. They all turned to see the basilica of St Peter’s church towering above the square.

“Now that is a sight,” Hutchinson said, “I’ve always wanted to see it.”

“Vatican city is an independent state created by the Lateran treaty of 11 Feb 1929 which was signed by Pope Pius XI, the holy see and the Italian government. It covers an area of 108 acres on the hill west of the Tiber river. It is separated from the rest of Rome by high walls on all sides except at the Piazza of St Peter. Over one thousand people live within these walls. The Vatican issues its own coins, postage stamps and has its own postal service. The head of state is his holiness Pope Benedict XVI. He is the 265 Pope of the Roman catholic church. He has full legislative and judicial powers with freedom under the Lateran treaty to organize his armed forces. He is also free to move or live through Italy as he should so desire. The Pope reigns over one billion catholics throughout the world and is assisted by the college of Cardinals and synods of bishops, synods being church councils.

The building you are looking at now, St Peter’s church, is the largest church in the world. The Vatican palace has been the official residence of the Popes since 1377. The original building was built in AD 319 by the Roman emperor Constantine who built a basilica over the tomb of St Peter himself, the first bishop of Rome. In the fifteenth century the building looked as if it would collapse and in 1452 the reconstruction was begun. The whole project soon ran out of money though and it was abandoned for over 50 years until 1506 when Pope Julius II gave instructions for the entire area of buildings to be demolished and the new St Peter’s to be built. Pope Julius II commissioned an architect by the name of Donato Bramante to do the work. Though it wouldn’t be until 1626, another 120 years before the work would be completed. Bramante died in 1514 and four other architects would work on the buildings. Namely Baldassare Peruzzi, Antonio Sangallo, Raphael and of course the most famous of them all, Michaelangelo.

A year before Bramante’s death, in 1513, Pope Julius II commissioned Raphael to decorate the Vatican apartments and Michaelangelo to paint the Sistine chapel.

In 1527 Rome was sacked by the army of the holy Roman empire led by the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V and the work once again ground to a halt. Over the next twenty years very little was done and then in 1546 Pope Paul II persuaded an elderly Michaelangelo to complete the building. Michaelangelo reverted back to the original plan of Bramante’s to create a church of Greek style cross plan. Do any of you know what that is?”

Natalie nodded.

“It means that the arms of the church are all the same length.”

“That’s good Miss Feltham. Have you excavated churches in Greece?”

“No. During the summer months the institute runs diving tours for extra funding from the island of Zakynthos. It’s just something I learned somewhere. The sort of thing one picks up.”

“What do you dive for?”

“Oh there are a few ancient shipwrecks off the coast, Roman mainly, though there’s virtually nothing of the ships left themselves. There is an amazing display of hundreds of amphorae all standing upright in the sand.”

“It sounds very interesting. You must surely love your work as I love mine.”

“You have a fascinating job,” Hutchinson added, “This tour is fantastic.”

“I live in one of the oldest and greatest cities in the world. I knew when I was just a small boy that I would dedicate my life to her. To me, she is the most beautiful city in the world.”

“I’d say,” Hutchinson concluded.

“Now,” Alberto said, bringing them back to his tour, “The best of Michaelangelo’s work on st Peter’s church would have been the dome itself but it was never completed during his lifetime and his plans were modified after his death by the architect Giacomo Della Porta. Later when we go inside I will tell you more about the church itself. Now in front of the church is the most beautiful, I think, architecture in the world, St Peter’s square. The Piazza Di San Pietro designed by Gianlorenzo Bernini. It was started in 1656 and completed in 1667. Now it’s called St Peter’s square but this is in fact wrong. It’s shape is not square but elliptical. You can see there are four rows of giant coloumns creating two collonades. Miss Feltham, Mr Dennis, if you would like to stand on either of the stone discs on the ground here and here,” he waited until they were in position, “We are lucky that the crowds aren’t too big. You’ll note that the collonades now appear to be single rows only.”

Alberto paused long enough for Hutchinson to have tried it also.

“That is amazing,” the American said.

“The Egyptian obelisk,” the Italian guide continued, “Is 25.9 metres in height or 85ft if you don’t measure in metric.”

“Never did understand metres,” Hutchinson said, “Pounds and inches are what I know best.”

“The obelisk was brought to Rome from Heliopolis in Egypt in 35AD by the Roman emperor Caligula. It was originally used in the circus and was moved to here in 1586 by Pope Sixtus V. The star at the top of the obelisk is the Chigi star named after Fabio Chigi who became Pope Alexander VII and under whose reign the Piazza was built. During the moving of the obelisk there was almost disaster when the ropes holding it began to break. A warning shout from a Genoese sailor saved the obelisk from falling and the palms used every palm Sunday thereafter came from his home town of Bordighera. They still do to this day.”

“Wow!” Hutchinson said, “So much history.”

“Indeed there is. Now shall we go inside the Vatican museum?”



De Luca and Ferrara jumped out of the Lancia and ducked straight under the police cordon tape stretched across the street. They each flashed police I.D. at the uniformed Carabinieri officers who, due to the blue flashing light on the roof of the Lancia, would have let them through anyway. The officers stepped out of their way. The street ahead had been evacuated and they approached a larger group of police standing a couple of hundred metres ahead. As they got nearer Sonnenburg turned and strode towards them. He shook hands with them both then almost instantly began leading them towards another line of police tape. They passed under this cordon and now De Luca and Ferrara could see the Carabinieri Alfa Romeo parked amongst other cars at the side of the street.

“Balotelli’s car was discovered by a parking ticket officer. She was doing a routine inspection of parked vehicles. That’s her over there,” Sonnenburg pointed towards a small woman in a police uniform giving a statement to a detective.

“She noticed that the back of the police car seemed to be considerably lower than the front. She called in its registration number unaware it was reported missing.”

De Luca nodded.

“And the car’s tracker?” he asked.

“Disabled. We are unable to trace its whereabouts even though we know it’s parked right there.”

“I see. And the reason for the suspension appearing low?”

“That’s why we called you,” Sonnenburg said, “Although the car is within Vatican city. It belongs to the Carabinieri and it’s your jurisdiction. Your call.”

They passed the last line of uniformed police and now the street was empty.

“We’re keeping the public back for a block in each direction,” Sonnenburg said.

“And the Vatican?”

“As normal for the moment. There’s no need to cause unnecessary alarm.”

“What do you think is in the trunk of Balotelli’s car?”

“I’m guessing Balotelli himself.”

“That’s what I’m fearing.”

They got to the police car and De Luca walked around it, slowly, looking for clues. There was clearly something heavy in the boot. De Luca called out twice. There was no answer.

“Do we have a spare set of keys?”

“No. Balotelli has, had, the only set.”

“We’re going to have to get it open,” De Luca said tapping the black paintwork with his forefinger, “Get someone who can open it.”

Sonnenburg turned to a group of police nearby.

“Get a crowbar.”

Ferrara’s phone started ringing. He moved away from the group to answer it. A policeman ran up with a crowbar. Sonnenburg and De Luca moved aside for him.

“Open that,” Sonnenburg ordered pointing to the Alfa Romeo’s boot.

“Si commandant.”

The officer tried gently to enter the crowbar into the gap in the boot. The metal of the bar being too thick for it to enter. De Luca watched with impatience.

“Here let me try.”

He snatched the crowbar and began attacking the boot with gusto. He was unconcerned as to the damage he was causing to both the bodywork and paint.

“You know if you were to smash one of the windows, particularly the driver’s or front passenger’s side you could reach in and pull the switch for the boot,” the officer who’d brought the crowbar volunteered.

De Luca stopped what he was doing and looked at the policeman openmouthed.

“What?”

“This model has a switch which opens the boot from the front.”

“Well why didn’t you say,” De Luca replied, irritated.

Sonnenburg turned at the sound of a siren approaching. The police tape was lowered and an ambulance came slowly up the street. The siren was switched off but the blue lights remained.

De Luca approached the driver’s window of the Alfa, kept close to the car to avoid any flying glass and swung the crowbar with all his might. The first blow bounced off the toughened glass but the second shattered it in a shower of green cubes. De Luca reached into the car and found the small switch he was looking for. He heard the click as the boot opened and he quickly rushed round as Sonnenburg lifted the boot and stepped back. They both looked down at the dead police officer. The body was starting to smell. Early stages of decay and De Luca noted the congealed blood on the black uniform jacket.

Sonnenburg clicked his fingers at the paramedics who both rushed forward with their medi-packs. The first of them instantly reached for a pulse on the neck. Then he tried the wrist. He shook his head at the two policemen and closed his medical kit and stood up.

“Thank you,” Sonnenburg said, dismissing the paramedics.

“Well I guess we now have a murder case on our hands,” De Luca said. He turned to look for his assistant just as Ferrara finished the phone call.

“Mario we need forensics here as soon as possible. We now have a murdered cop on our hands.”

“Sir I’ve just got off the phone to Ezio. Those tyre marks you told me to photograph, they’ve come back as a match. The one’s at the roadside and the abandoned airfield are the same. They are identical to tyres supplied to the Carabinieri Alfa Romeo’s. Sir this proves that Balotelli was at that airfield.”

“But you and I investigated that airfield. There was nothing there.”

“Who would want to murder a policeman at an abandoned airfield and dump his body here?” Sonnenburg asked.

They turned at the sound of approaching foot steps. Bauer had just flashed his I.D. and was now hurrying towards them.

“I’ve just heard from my office. German police have been monitoring Von Werner’s bank accounts and guess what? You’ll never believe this. Von Werner has purchased an old abandoned airfield just North of Rome.”

De Luca met Sonnenburg’s gaze.

“I think we just found our suspect.”

“I should say,” Bauer continued, “And that’s not all. Interpol have upgraded the notice on Von Werner to red.”

De Luca was confused.

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Sonnenburg answered, “That they’ve issued an international arrest warrant for him. Red is the highest notice that they can issue to all member forces. It also includes the power to extradite persons or individuals to the warrant issuing authority.”

“So this means that the German’s want him.”

“As well as the Americans and Austrians,” Sonnenburg added.

“Actually you’re both wrong. It is Tunisia who have requested his extradition.”

“Not a chance,” De Luca shook his head, “If he’s killed or is responsible for the death of one of my officers then I want him.”

“Yes,” Sonnenburg agreed, “If he’s still in Italy.”

“And if he is. I intend to catch him.”



Dennis, Natalie, Hutchinson and Alberto, their guide, all stepped back out into the late afternoon sunshine. They thanked their guide for a wonderful tour which had culminated in the viewing of the sistine chapel.

Despite signs everywhere telling visitors to switch off mobile phones Dennis had kept the one Sonnenburg had given him on. It now began to ring incessantly.

“Excuse me,” he said reaching into his jeans pocket for it.

Hutchinson was busy passing a large tip to Alberto. Natalie took her eyes off the transaction to look at her boyfriend. He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece to speak to her.

“It’s Bauer.”

He turned his attention back to the phonecall. He couldn’t hear over the large crowds of visitors and he apologised and asked the Austrian to speak up. He tried putting a finger in his other ear to drown out surrounding noise but it was still no use.

“I’m sorry Thomas I still can’t hear you.”

He heard the voice reply but still didn’t catch any of it.”

“Hold on Thomas. I will try to get somewhere quieter. Just bear with me….”

Dennis moved through the crowd looking for a vantage point. Then he saw a large gap in the crowds and he pushed his way to it.

“Right Thomas. I might be able to hear you now. Sorry, what were you saying.”

“Peter I need the three of you outside St Peter’s now. I’m at the square of Pope Pius XII in a black Lancia. Meet me there….”

Some tourists waving Brazilian flags suddenly appeared next to Dennis. They were shouting excitedly whilst having their photographs taken against the backdrop of the papal palace. Dennis couldn’t hear what Bauer was saying again and he looked at them with irritation. Then his eyes grew wide as he caught the single word.

“Bomb!”