With the African Cardinal Ndiaye out of the way, it seemed as if Cardinal Wright had a clear path to being elected pope. Oh, there was some talk in the media that the African had been killed to prevent a Black man from becoming pope, especially amongst the American media. And of course, the Swiss Guard was making some noise with their investigation. None of which mattered. In a few more hours, the College of Cardinals would retire to deliberate and vote, and he and his minions had one more task to complete before then. A Father Xavier Brün would be giving the sermon before the college met in the Pauline Chapel to begin the Papal Conclave, and he needed to be replaced to ensure the correct message was delivered.

It was daylight, and Cardinal Wright could not turn to his fellow vampyres. For this, he had to trust to the doppelganger, and that thought stirred the bile in his stomach. In his opinion, High Lord Delph relied too much on these demons, and Cardinal Wright wondered how or even if he could trust them. He had to admit he envied the High Lord Delph’s three Shadow Slayers, who followed him around like puppies. How did a vampyre, and admittedly a half breed, come to control so many demons? That his mother was from the cardinal’s own caste had always impressed Wright, but for thousands of years, any meeting between vampyre and demon had ended in death.

It was of no matter now. His mind was wandering so much these days. Did he need to know the High Lord’s business to accomplish his mission? He had his part to play for the greater glory of the vampyre nations, and it was time he got on with it. No one said he had to like it or even agree with it. His was to obey the Sanguinarians, his betters, if he wanted to continue to enjoy their many gifts and power and wealth they had given him.

Cardinal Wright stepped into an alcove, where it waited for him in the shadows.

“You know what to do?”

“Yeees,” it hissed. “I am to leave no body to be found. I am then to take the place of my dinner and speak the words as you have prepared them.”

Even its speech gave him the creeps. The cardinal nodded and left to return to his quarters and change his vestments for the first of the two sermons. The demon watched him go before fading into the wall. He was not to eat that one, his new master forbade it. Still, there was plenty to feed on, and it was stronger than it had ever been. Maybe, one day, this one too would become his meal. It became a patch of marble on the floor, merged with the painting from a Renaissance master before becoming a statuette. Hidden by its surroundings, it moved unseen through the Vatican, pausing to taste the air for its victim.

Father Xavier Brün was currently in the guest quarters assigned to him. It was an honour to give the sermon before the College of Cardinals retired to choose a pope, and he was practicing before a mirror, a trick he had learned in the Jesuit seminary. He had chosen a theme of reconciliation and forgiveness, touching on not visiting the sins of a few on the many. It was a subject that was so apropos to these times – not only because of the recent rift between the Church and the Brotherhood but because of the many places around the world where innocents were being painted with the same brush as a violent few. Hatred and prejudice were rampant, and if the Church did not make this start, it would swallow the world.

It stepped out of the mirror. One moment Father Brün was deciding how to hold his hand; the next that hand had a death grip on his throat. It was incredibly strong. In an instant, the doppelganger had crushed his windpipe, savouring the human’s pain as he slowly suffocated. And then it sat down to dine. It was instructed not to leave a body, and by the time it was done, only a few bits of bloody cloth would remain. These he would clean up later, much later, after the sermon. He did not like entering such a holy place, sanctified ground, but his new master had given him a talisman. As long as he wore this charm, he did not fear its holy water and icons, nor its words of power, all those things it had learned to avoid in its long life.

He stood, a perfect image of Father Brün, his vestments pristine…

Cardinal Wright was in his quarters when one of his minions announced that Oberst Gersbach was waiting at the door. He sighed. Cardinal Wright knew he would have to face the man eventually, too bad it could not wait until after the College of Cardinals met in the Particular Congregation. Schooling his features, he took a seat and nodded to his minion that he was ready for the audience.

Oberst Gersbach marched in with his subaltern at his back. He bowed and kissed the cardinal’s ring.

“My son,” Cardinal Wright acknowledged. “You have need of my council?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Gersbach nodded. “In the course of our investigation into Cardinal Ndiaye’s death, we uncovered this list.”

Cardinal Wright took the list in its protective baggy and pretended to study it. “I replace it unsettling to replace my name on such a list.”

Oberst Gersbach raised an eyebrow.

“A hit list,” Cardinal Wright waved the thought off with a laugh. “But we are all men of God here. I am letting my imagination run away with me. Too many detective novels. A small vice of mine, I must confess.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Gersbach interjected. “Still, it’s an interesting hypothesis. If it’s not that, any thought what if might be?”

“Well now, my son,” Cardinal Wright steepled his fingers. “I imagine there are dozens of such lists circulating. After all, we cardinals are human too, and humans like to speculate.”

“Since the Pope’s death, that is,” Oberst Gersbach nodded.

“I’m not surprised to see Cardinal Ndiaye’s name here,” Cardinal Wright replied. “My own name? I did not think I rated so high in such circles. I suspect this list belonged to one of the younger cardinals or perhaps one of the Bishops.”

“I see.”

“If there is nothing else you need from me, my son?” The Cardinal concluded the interview. “I have other duties to attend to.”

Leaving the cardinal’s quarters, Oberst Gersbach let the frown slip through his placid mask. Something about that man rubbed him the wrong way, and yet nothing he had said contradicted what he had already heard a dozen times before. A surprising number of these holy men had admitted to a fondness for murder mysteries. One old Irish Cardinal had suggested he seek the help of Inspector Rebus or Hercule Poirot; unfortunately, neither the imaginations of Ian Rankin or Agatha Christie would help in this investigation.

He had time for two more interviews before the High Mass began…

“Let us pray….”

Cardinal Wright sat amongst most of the active cardinals of the Church as the mass began. It did not matter what the Swiss Guard thought or even suspected now that they had begun to celebrate the Eucharist. One did not easily accuse a sitting Pope or his supporters of murder. And after this mass, he would be safely seconded within the Particular Congregation with the College of Cardinals, beyond the reach of any secular authority. And if the doppelganger delivered, he would emerge the ordained Pope, temporal ruler of the Church. No one short of God could dethrone him. God or his conscience, and in this matter, he did not have a conscience to salve, only the ambition of himself and his people.

The doppelganger sat to the left of the altar amongst the celebrating bishops. When he had first walked into the chapel, Cardinal Wright had sat bolt upright, convinced their ploy had failed. He almost could not replace his feet when the congregation rose for the processional. He was not really sure until it stood behind the pulpit and spoke in a ringing voice.

“Evil!” His voice echoed in the rafters, lingering as his volume and the following silence woke the old men from their stupor.

“It surrounds us,” it continued. “It lingers in the hearts of all men. We must stay vigilant to avoid the snares that the Great Deceiver lays before us. Vigilant lest we give into temptation.”

“Some would tell us that we should forgive the Brotherhood – that it is our Christian duty. But should we forgive those who consort with demons, trading the sanctity of their immortal souls for worldly power and glory? Did not Christ cast out the demons as unclean?”

Over the next two hours, it spoke of Church policy, often coming back to the crimes of the Brotherhood. The doppelganger quoted the writings of many of the men present, including several well-known and, at one-time controversial quotes from Cardinal Wright. It made him look like a prophet, given the events of the past few weeks. It covered everything from the many world crisis to abortion, linking the moral decay of modern society to men such as those members of the Brotherhood. On terrorism, he asked what moral authority the Church could lend when it hid, not only these men but the evil they consorted with? The Church must lead, in this and all things – a moral compass not only for this generation but for all generations.

The mass drew to a close. Those not a part or excluded from the College of Cardinals did not follow them into the Sistine Chapel, where the doors were closed. The deliberations had begun…

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