Cardinal Peralta was horrified. Horror quickly turned to rage.
I knew what was coming and sprang as he turned his gun on me.
I grabbed the Beretta, rolled over and shot the Cardinal in the gut twice before he could pull the trigger.
The wooden door exploded in a storm of splinters and I recognized some of Antonelli’s men as they ran through the dust and smoke, brandishing machine-guns.
They yelled at the Dark Fates in Italian, and Milan Verde’s men had the good sense to realize they were beaten.
I hauled myself to my feet and walked over to Peralta, who lay bleeding on the stone floor.
“It’s over,” I said. “You and your friends,” I gestured at Milan Verde and Joseph Stadler, “will face justice. You will have years to consider how you’ve betrayed your faith.”
“Jack!”
I glanced round to see Justine, Sci, Mo-bot and Faduma enter.
I hobbled over to Justine and we embraced and kissed. She felt me wince.
“Oh my God,” she said. “You need a doctor.”
I kissed her again.
“You have no idea how good it is to see you.” I looked at Faduma, Sci and Mo-bot. “All of you. I’m already feeling so much better.”
Chapter 100
Fate put me in the same place as Matteo Ricci, in Fatebenefratelli Hospital on the Isola Tiberina, in a private room tucked away under the eaves.
Justine, Mo-bot and Sci came to visit me during my five-day stay. Cardinal Peralta had shot me in the shoulder, but the bullet had passed through muscle and bone and hadn’t harmed anything vital. Although it was painful and my mobility would be impaired for a while, my prognosis was good.
I was also visited by Inspector Mia Esposito, who wanted my testimony and details of everything we’d uncovered during our investigation. No amount of power or money could save Cardinal Peralta or Joseph Stadler. In fact, Stadler was feeling so much pressure from the police there was already talk of him doing a deal with the prosecutor, giving up Propaganda Tre in exchange for a shorter prison sentence.
On my fifth day in the hospital, as the warm summer wind was blowing over the Tiber and in at my open attic window, bringing with it the glorious rich smells of the city, Dr Farid Jalili entered, a frown on his face, a chart and pen held in his hand. He made a point of studying my records, but I knew it was for show. I had taken a shine to the charismatic, funny doctor.
“It’s good news, Mr. Morgan.” He broke into a grin. “It looks like you’re fit to go. I can discharge you.”
“That’s really great,” I said, getting to my feet.
I hadn’t been up much since my admission except for short trips to the bathroom, and it took me a moment for me to steady myself.
“Thank you, Dr Jalili, you and your team have been amazing.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Morgan. Try not to get shot again.”
He left the room. In the closet beside the bed I found fresh clothes Justine had brought over during a visit.
I put on a dark blue suit and white shirt, taking great care to properly fit the sling they’d given me to support my injured shoulder. The black shoes were the most difficult thing to manage, but despite working one-handed, I succeeded in the end. I made a call on the new phone Mo-bot had given me.
“Justine, it’s me. Yeah, they gave me the all clear. Thanks. I’ll wait for you outside.”
I hung up, excited to see her and our friends.
I had originally planned to wait on the bridge in front of the hospital and watch the river go by, but after thanking the ward staff, I took the stairs down to Matteo’s room.
He was lying in bed when I walked in.
“Jack,” he said. “How’s the shoulder?”
“I get to keep it,” I replied.
He smiled, though it didn’t last long. “If you want my resignation, I won’t be happy to give it but I’ll understand why.”
I was silent for a moment.
“It’s clear to me you made a couple of bad judgment calls, but none of us is perfect,” I replied. “Once you’re on your feet, I would like you to finish setting up the Rome office. You have the necessary skills and experience to make Private Rome exceptional.”
Matteo nodded and his smile returned. “Thank you, Jack. Thank you so much.”
Chapter 101
After leaving Matteo, I went outside and waited on the bridge in front of the hospital. I was relieved and happy when Sci, Mo-bot and Justine arrived in a taxi.
Justine jumped out of the vehicle and ran to me but stopped when I took a step back warily.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I almost forgot.”
She embraced me on my good side, avoiding my bullet wound, and we kissed.
It felt so great to be reunited with her, and the smile on her lips told me she felt exactly the same way.
Sci and Mo-bot greeted me warmly when I joined them in the cab. The driver took us through the Eternal City to the Hassler, which had been my home when I’d first arrived in Rome.
It was a relief not to be looking over my shoulder, watching for danger at every turn. After spending the afternoon in our suite where we could finally be alone, Justine and I went to meet Sci and Mo-bot in the hotel’s rooftop bar and restaurant for pre-dinner drinks.
We entered the busy space to find our colleagues sitting with Faduma Salah. The tenacious journalist had filed stories that had given her readers the inside scoop on Propaganda Tre, the Dark Fates and the role of Joseph Stadler and Cardinal Peralta in laundering money for these groups. It was proving to be one of the most sensational scandals in modern Italian history, implicating government ministers like the deceased Stefano Trotta, financiers, mob bosses and clergy.
“Hello, Mr. Morgan,” Faduma said as Justine and I joined them at their table.
“You know you can call me Jack,” I replied, wincing slightly as I caught myself at a bad angle while taking my seat.
“Are you okay?” Faduma and Justine said simultaneously.
“Jinx,” Mo-bot teased.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I replied. “Just need to get used to taking it easy.”
“You did well,” Faduma said. “You all did.”
“So did you,” Sci replied. “I see your stories being covered everywhere.”
“You did great,” I said. “In fact, Private is still looking for a second-in-command for the Rome office.”
Faduma smiled. “That’s very kind, Jack, but I’m a journalist, not a detective. I have an obligation to my readers, and quite frankly, I don’t like the idea of being shot at all the time.”
“It’s not all the time,” Sci replied. “Just on weekdays.”
Everyone chuckled.
The maître d’ approached. “Your table is ready, Mr. Morgan.”
“If you won’t join our company, at least keep us company for dinner,” I said to Faduma.
She nodded. “It would be my pleasure.”
Chapter 102
The following morning, we packed what luggage we had and loaded it into the back of the silver Range Rover Vogue the hotel had provided as an airport shuttle.
Mo-bot sat beside the driver, an older man with thinning gray hair, a warm smile and mischievous eyes. Justine, Sci and I were in the back, and I didn’t pay much attention to what was happening until I realized we weren’t heading toward the airport.
“Excuse me?” I said to the driver.
“Yes?”
“Where are we going?”
“Signor Antonelli would like to show his thanks to you before you leave Rome,” the driver replied as calmly as if he was giving us a weather update.
I had no idea how Antonelli had subverted a hotel driver, or how he knew about our travel plans, but he was one of the most powerful men in Rome, and for now was free from threat or worries because he had somehow been able to conceal his association with Propaganda Tre. His reach must go very high indeed.