Something Dark (A Lauren Lamb FBI Thriller—Book Four), page 9
Paolo's calm voice and wide, innocent eyes flitted across Lauren's mind.
Can you hear him? He’s screaming.
Her lips thinned, and she turned to the man standing next to her. Carmelo Avanti stood with his shoulders slumped, his hands clasped in front of him and his head sunk almost to his chest. His breath hitched with sobs that seemed incongruous with his barrel-chested, muscular frame.
“I never thought a demon could kill him,” he said. “He was so strong in the faith. He was so good. Why would God allow something like this?” He took a shuddering breath and decided, “It was me. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left him alone.”
“Who else was in the house besides you four?”
“No one,” he replied. “No one that I saw. I don’t understand how anyone could have gotten in without me noticing them. I was in the living room, and I could see both entrances. I suppose someone could have come in through the window, but…” he shook his head. “It had to be the demon.”
Lauren stooped and saw a small, circular hole in the priest’s neck. The edges were smooth and pulled into the wound. A puncture, likely from a large sewing needle. Just like Father Vincenzo and Father Grigoriy.
“Demons don’t leave stab wounds,” she said out loud. “Someone killed him.”
“I don’t understand,” he said, “you don’t think it was the mother, do you?”
“How long have you worked with Father Steinrich?” Lauren asked.
“Ten years,” Carmelo said, “As soon as I graduated seminary, I pledged myself to his service. He is a great—was a great warrior of the faith, and I was honored to work with him.”
“How did he treat you?”
Carmelo’s brow furrowed. “Perfectly. He was always kind to me. Why do you ask?”
Lauren changed directions. “How was he around others?”
“He was always kind. Miss Lamb, I don’t understand what you’re trying to ask.”
“I’m trying to determine why someone might have wanted to murder him,” she said. “So I need to know if anyone ever had any conflict with him.”
“There were some who didn’t believe,” Carmelo replied, “who called him a fraud. No one ever escalated beyond words, though.”
Lauren looked up and down Carmelo’s burly frame. “You sure that didn’t have more to do with you than Father Steinrich?”
“I would never have allowed harm to come to him, it is true,” Carmelo said, “but no one ever threatened real violence. They were simply afraid.”
“Hmm. Did an exorcism ever fail?”
His eyes widened. “Fail?”
“Yes. Did Father Steinrich ever fail to banish a demon? Were there ever any unwanted side effects? Any injuries or illnesses? Deaths?”
He paled a little, and his eyes shifted to the left. "Carmelo," Lauren said calmly. "Let me be frank with you. Right now, you're the number one suspect."
He blanched. “Me? But I would never harm the father! I loved him like he was my own blood!”
That doesn’t always stop killers, Lauren thought. Aloud, she said, “I believe you, Carmelo, but I’ve been wrong before. If I’m going to trust my instincts, you need to tell me the truth. All of it.”
He hesitated a moment longer before finally sighing and saying, “All right. Yes. There was one exorcism that didn’t go well. There was a man who claimed to be possessed by a demon. He asked the father for help. During the exorcism, the subject began shouting in tongues and assaulting the father. He had to be restrained. As I was restraining him, he turned very calm and said, ‘You see how easy it is to fool you?’ It turns out he was not possessed. He was simply putting on an act for an internet show. The father’s reputation suffered badly after that.”
“That was it? No one ever got hurt or sick?”
“No, never. That was the only exorcism that wasn’t according to plan. Even this one went flawlessly.”
Lauren sighed. “All right. Thank you for your time, Carmelo. The Vatican should have representatives here soon for the priest’s body.”
He nodded, and tears came to his eyes. He wiped a hand across them and said, “I’m so sorry, Father. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
He began to weep and sank to his knees over Father Steinrich. Lauren turned and left without saying a word. She had no idea what to say.
Father Emilio was sitting on the couch with Grazia and Lucia Olivetta. Grazia was, perhaps appropriately, a matronly woman of about forty-five. She sat on one end of the couch, crying softly. Lucia was thirteen and smiled softly at the father as he spoke with her.
When he saw Lauren, he bowed his head and prayed over Lucia. Then he squeezed her hand and stood next to Lauren.
“They didn’t see the murder. The father left the room, but Lucia had just woken and Grazia was focused on her daughter. She turned around after a few minutes and found him on the floor.”
“How’s the daughter?” Lauren asked.
“She’s all right. She blames herself, but that is natural in a child.”
“Not just children,” Lauren said, “Carmelo’s not doing too well himself.”
Father Emilio nodded. “I’m not surprised. Father Steinrich would talk about him sometimes. He saw Carmelo as his son. I am sorry for his loss.”
Lauren laid a hand on the father’s shoulder and smiled at him. “I’m sorry for yours too,” she said.
She lost sight sometimes of the fact that the priests dying were all friends of Father Emilio. It hit her like a punch to the gut that he could be a target too.
Not while I’m around, she thought. I’d like to see someone try.
She thought grimly that if someone did attack Father Emilio, it would at least make her job easier.
The Vatican came, and Lauren checked for any sign of the men she’d seen meeting with Bishop Grigorio. She planned to follow up on him as soon as this case was over, but if he was somehow connected to these murders, then she could kill two birds with one stone.
These men wore the black shirts and jeans that the other men wore, but they weren’t the men who met with the bishop, and they didn’t seem the type to be criminals. It was possible, she supposed, that they were connected, but not likely.
Carmelo drove the Olivetta’s home. Lauren tensed when Lucia turned and smiled at her, but the girl only smiled a moment before turning away.
As Father Emilio performed last rites for Father Steinrich, Lauren processed what she had seen. Perhaps because this was the first time she’d seen the body at the crime scene, but this murder affected her more than the others did. Carmelo’s naked grief reminded her of how she felt when her own father died, and the despondent look on his and Lucia’s face reminded her of the guilt she carried when Kevin was murdered.
She walked through the house, checking to make sure they hadn’t missed anything.
A moment later, she was glad she had. She saw something painted on the corner of the door. It looked old, but there were paints designed to look old. She knelt and saw that the mark was slightly obscured by the carpet. When she pulled the carpet back slightly, she saw a pentacle with Hebrew words written in the points of the star and in the spaces between the disk and the star.
She felt very tired suddenly. She didn’t believe in demons, but every case she’d taken with the father so far had the occult stamped all over it. It was getting hard to continue to believe in logic and rationality when so much of what she experienced was irrational and even impossible.
Why? Why did this have to happen all the time?
She supposed it was what she should expect working for the Vatican. It really wouldn't be a problem if it were satanists or cultists or even just crazy people. That part of the job she could handle. But the possessed women from Cepagatti and New York, the way her chest felt crushed when Henri talked to her in Paris, the way Bianca stared at her in the video and the way Paolo reminded her of the demon's promise that Kevin was burning in Hell—it was all too much.
“Lauren?” Father Emilio called. “What do you see?”
“Over here,” she said, waving him over. “Are we alone?”
“Yes, we’re alone. They’ve taken him.”
She nodded and pointed at the symbol. “Yet some more Satanist bullshit,” she said. “Is that a special type of Pentagram?”
“It’s one of the symbols required for the incantation of Solomon,” he said. “It is used to summon demons and bind them to the service of the summoner. It is primarily used in Christian esotericism.”
He said it calmly, and his expression, though serious, wasn’t at all fearful. “And that doesn’t bother you at all?” she said incredulously.
“Of course it does,” he says, “but I am on the winning side of this war. I fight the battle that fewer need suffer, but the end is guaranteed. Our God will win.”
“And what if you’re one of the few that needs to suffer?”
“Then I suffer.” He met her eyes. “I chose this life, Lauren. I knew what I was getting into.”
Well, I didn’t, she thought.
But it didn’t matter in the end. She wouldn’t leave. She knew she wouldn’t. As hard as it was to be surrounded by things she couldn’t explain, working with Father Emilio gave her purpose, and it was that purpose that had saved her life.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Well, what does this symbol tell us?”
“It tells us that we are right. Whoever is doing this is opposed to exorcists. Whether that is due to a personal vendetta or a strategic need to remove us from the battlefield, someone is targeting members of my order. I lean toward the latter reason as there is little commonality between these cases.”
Lauren had to agree. Father Steinrich had, if Carmelo was to be believed, never injured anyone or treated anyone poorly. He had also been killed with all members of the exorcism party present.
The first fact meant that a personal vendetta was unlikely. The second meant that their killer was escalating.
“Do you know of any occult or Christian esoteric groups active in Rome?” she replied.
“I’m sure there are some,” he replied, “but I do now know myself. However, I have a contact at the Vatican who might.”
Lauren looked out the window at the sky. They had a few hours of daylight left. “Call him,” she said. “That’s where we’re heading next.
Father Emilio made the call, and Lauren stared at the faded pentacle on the wall. What had to happen to people for them to fall so far into hate and fear and evil? Why were there so many bad people in the world?
Her phone buzzed. Enrico.
Hey, beautiful. Thinking of you.
She smiled at the text and was struck with a sudden longing for him. She loved the way he would hold her close to his chest. She could close her eyes and savor the feel of him in her arms, his manly scent filling her nostrils. She replied, Miss you so much, baby.
There were good people in the world, too.
Another good person in her life smiled at her. “Your boyfriend?”
“Yes,” she replied to the father. “He was just thinking of me.”
“That is good,” he said. “A man should think often of his loved ones.”
She chuckled and shook her head.
“What? What did I say?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m just glad to have you both in my life.”
He smiled broadly. “Well, I can’t speak for him, but I am glad to have you in mine.”
She chuckled again and rolled her eyes.
“What did I say this time?”
“Nothing. Now come on. We have a case to solve.”
“Yes,” Father Emilio said, his smile fading as he looked down at the symbol again. “Yes, we do.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The trespasser didn’t relax during the entire drive to Rome. At any moment, the headlights of pursuers could shine behind the old sedan and spell the end of the trespasser’s career.
But there were no lights, and when the trespasser reached the small apartment building that had been home for the past five years, the tension finally slid away.
The trespasser leaned back in the car seat and breathed deeply. Each breath released stress and brought joy.
Once more, the trespasser had won. The evil man was dead. No more would have to suffer at his hands.
The trespasser regretted that flight was necessary before a check of the Olivetta girl’s welfare could be made. It would have been comforting to know that she was all right. The trespasser would have to take comfort in the knowledge that she would be the last.
But not the last of all exorcists. That fight continued, and while victory was sweet, the trespasser tasted it for only a moment before opening the laptop and looking up the next target.
This one was interesting. At one point, he had been considered the greatest exorcist in the entire Church. A little more digging revealed apocryphal accounts of the man banishing most of the greatest princes and kings of hell at one time or another. Then, a little over a decade ago, an exorcism gone wrong had resulted in the death of a young college student and caused a minor scandal throughout Italy. After that event, He had retired to run the parish in Arezzo, a medium-sized city in Tuscany, about an hour and a half north of Rome by train.
A little over a year ago, he had resigned his post in Arezzo. Since then, he had no officially listed duties or assignments, but newspaper articles attached him to several high-profile investigations in recent history. He was partnered with a woman, a former FBI agent.
So he was a detective now. The trespasser wondered if he was still an exorcist or if he had left that life behind him.
Well, he hadn’t paid for it, either way. Just because he no longer injured and murdered people didn’t mean he was innocent. Justice still hadn’t been served for Marta Consuelo.
Yes. This was the one. This Father Emilio Carbone.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The house Father Emilio took them to reminded Lauren unnervingly of the occult house in New York where she had encountered a possessed—allegedly possessed—woman for the second time. She was in no mood to hear a crazy person tell her that her dead fiancé was still screaming in hell, so she balked a bit.
“Don’t worry,” Father Emilio reassured her. “Vittorio simply likes Gothic architecture. He does not practice esotericism or the occult.”
“Good to know,” she said, blushing a little at being caught.
The door opened, and a middle-aged man with bronzed skin and curly, sand-colored hair opened the door. His arms and trunk were powerful and strong despite his lined face, and Lauren saw Father Emilio wince slightly as the man wrapped him in a bear hug. “Father Emilio!” Vittorio cried. “I am so happy to see you. Though, of course, I wish it could be in better circumstances.” He released Father Emilio, who sighed with relief, and turned to Lauren. Lauren saw his piercing gray eyes were kind but shrewd and probing as well. “And this must be Miss Lauren Lamb, the lovely young lady you always write me about.”
Lauren turned to Father Emilio. “You write about me?”
“The Father writes constantly about you,” Vittorio assured her. “I think he considers you a daughter.”
Father Emilio scowled and reddened slightly with embarrassment. "We should go inside and talk if it's all right with you, Vittorio. I'm afraid the matter we have to discuss is of grave importance.”
“Of course,” he said, “Come inside, both of you. Would either of you like tea?”
Lauren accepted, and Father Emilio did so reluctantly after learning that Vittorio didn't have coffee. He led them to his study, which once more reminded Lauren unnervingly of New York. "So," he said, "You have found an occult symbol at the scene of Father Steinrich's murder."
“Yes,” Father Emilio said, showing Vittorio his phone. “It appears to be a variation on the Pentacle of Solomon.”
“Yes, it is,” Vittorio agreed. “Interesting. You found this at the scene?”
“It was painted on the wall next to Father Steinrich’s body,” Lauren confirmed. “Near the base of the wall, partially hidden by the carpet.”
“Hmm. It’s possible someone was trying to curse the house or an individual in the house. It looks old, though. I think this was left long before the father arrived at that house. Years ago.”
“You’re sure of that?” Lauren asked.
“I can’t be entirely sure unless I’m there next to the mark,” he replied, “but these pictures suggest to me that it is old. It’s almost certain that Father Steinrich didn’t know the mark was there or he would never have conducted an exorcism in that house.”
“Do you know of any occult groups using this symbol?” Father Emilio asked.
“Almost every occult group,” Vittorio replied. “This is one of the most recognized symbols of the occult. This particular variation of the pentacle is used by Thelema in their rituals. There are other groups that use it as well, and in the way in which it’s drawn, it’s more useful as a summoning spell than a binding spell. It’s possible Thelema is involved, but not likely. They tend to focus on wealth, not murder.”
“Any thought who it might be?’ Lauren asked. “One of the other groups?”
He stood straight and crossed his arms in thought. "There's one group," he says, "I haven't heard of them in a little while, but they were one of the most dangerous organizations in Rome. They called themselves the Knights of the True Faith. Their leader, Guillermo De Maria, was… disturbing. He idolized Charles Manson and advocated for violent revolution. The police eventually caught wind and drove them underground, but they still exist, and their name still comes up in connection with murders at the Vatican."
“Well, that sounds promising,” Lauren said. “I think we have our next suspect. You don’t happen to know where he is, do you?”
“I know that the group used to meet in the Gates of Heaven Cemetery at night,” Vittorio replied. “It’s an abandoned graveyard just outside the city. I shudder to think what they did there.”
“We’ll find out,” she said.
Father Emilio’s phone rang. He frowned and said, “All right. I’ll be right there.”
