Mark of the Devil (35 page)

Starla kept her eyes glued on Matt as the boat’s engine roared to life, but Matt knew she’d never make it. “Jump, Starla!”

It wasn’t until
Starla Alliance’s
starboard propeller blade rose from the water and crushed its way down through the cabin cruiser’s stern, devouring the Alliance Industry flag, that Starla realized what was happening. She gunned the engine, but the ship’s propeller blade, followed by the next blade, and the next, crunched down and chewed through fiberglass, wood, and steel like it was a child’s toy. As the cabin cruiser’s stern plunged beneath the surface, its bow momentarily pointing toward the sky, Matt thought he heard a scream. Whether a human voice or the shrill screech of hovering seagulls, the sound was lost in a gas line explosion that blew apart what was still visible of
Hank’s Baby
and the woman named Starla.

Two Days Later

That morning had been chillier than usual for early November in North Florida, but the sun, working its way through the oak trees, was gradually warming the pathway as Matt and Steve Park strolled with Bishop Pastorelli. With briefcase in hand, Matt couldn’t help but laugh when the bishop asked, “You’re finally straight with our friends in law enforcement, I presume?”

“Neither the Jacksonville Beach Police nor the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office were overjoyed with me walking away. Fortunately, Detective Mike Hammersmith, recovering from gunshot wounds, and Dr. Fay Lundgren, Duval County Medical Examiner, both said if Steve Park and I hadn’t been brave enough to
yadda yadda yadda…
You get the picture.”

Pastorelli laughed, guiding Matt and Park toward his office from the parking lot off St. Augustine Road. “Regardless of past misdeeds, I was deeply saddened by Mr. Shoemaker’s death. As for Mrs. Shoemaker, I do hope she and her brother will find peace.”

“Not unless the streets of wherever she ended up are paved with gold and named after her,” Park said with a sour laugh.

The bishop chuckled as he pushed through the door on the side of the building. “My private entrance. Leads directly to my office. Coffee, Mr. Park, Mr. Berkeley?”

“None for me, thank you. I’ve only a few minutes.” Matt said. “Got an appointment with a realtor about my aunt’s house.”

“Me neither,” Park said, “We just wanted you to know a few things that happened after your meeting with Starla Shoemaker and Eric Bruder. Kinda fill in some blanks not covered by the media.”

“I do appreciate that. So sad. So sad, also, the loss of your wife, Mr. Berkeley…And that Dr. Mason. What will happen to her?”

Matt shook his head slowly. “I knew her father in Vietnam and now Brandy, her daughter, and her brother for a number of years. A damn good woman, Bishop. Well respected by the archaeological community, but she got taken in by all the glitter surrounding the Shoemakers. I’ll try to help her all I can.”

“But the gold found on the
Starla Alliance.
It came from the sunken U-boat?”

“Yes, sir,” Matt answered. “Apparently gold taken from the corpses of prisoners at the Auschwitz Birkenau concentration camp. Their teeth, jewelry, whatever.”

“What will they do with it? Give it to Germany? Israel?”

“Good question, but the Germans killed several million Catholic Poles, along with thousands of Gypsies and Russians, as well as Jews at Auschwitz. Who gets it? Whoever makes that decision is way above my head, that’s for sure.”

“And mine,” Park added. “We understand that the State Department has contacted the German government about the U-Twenty-five thirty-seven, their ownership, and salvage rights.”

Bishop Pastorelli was silent for a moment, his eyes straying to the shelves of books that surrounded the office, then back to Matt and Steve Park. “History can sometimes be very cruel, but at the same time, a portent of the future. Certainly, it can have a great impact on men’s lives, for good or for evil.” The bishop gnawed momentarily on his lower lip before asking, “Was there anything else, anything of uhhh…of importance that might have come from the submarine?”

Matt smiled. “Yes, there was. Something I, for some reason, forgot to tell the police about.” He looked at Park and winked. “I think this might be the answer to your question.” Releasing the clasps on his briefcase, a suction-like sound was created as Matt lifted the lid and pulled out a brown leather pouch, its outer flap tightly wrapped around and folded over many times, the surface coated with a waxy substance. “One thing I’ll say about the people who first wrapped this thing, they certainly made it waterproof.”

Removing the pouch from the case, Matt held it up to the light and read,
“‘Zweite Concordat zwischen der Heiligen See und das Deutsches Reich
’
and the date. The so-called Second Concordat.”

Pastorelli crossed himself and asked, “How did you get it?”

“The briefcase. It’s waterproof. I pulled it out of the water after Starla’s boat blew up. Didn’t know what it contained until I opened it.” Matt held up the pouch. “Probably wouldn’t have known what it was if I hadn’t seen it on the U-boat.”

“You saw it?” the bishop asked, astonishment in his voice.

Park placed his hand next to his mouth and, with a conspiratorial whisper, said, “On the U-boat, where he wasn’t supposed to be.”

Matt smiled. “Held it in my hands until Eric Bruder took it away and tried to kill me.”

Bishop Pastorelli stared at the pouch in Matt’s hand, his mouth open. Matt knew the man wanted to ask, but something was holding him back.

“And I suppose you want to know what we’re going to do with it?”

The bishop smiled weakly, his head nodding up and down. “Well, yes, that question had occurred to me.”

Matt removed a jewel case containing a rewritable CD marked
Concordat
and a folder from the briefcase. He closed the briefcase lid, stood, and moved to the bishop’s desk. “After I left the Alliance Industries Building and before the police arrived, Steve found this CD and a folder. Copies of the concordat. One in German, one in Italian, and what looks like an English translation. I have no idea if any other copies were made, but we’re giving everything to you.”

Pastorelli exhaled his relief as he took the pouch, CD, and envelope from Matt. “Thank God. Do you know what these things contain?”

“Other than the title hand-printed on the CD and the titles on the copies in the folder, neither Matt nor I have read anything, if that’s what you’re asking,” Park answered.

“But from all the fuss over the first concordat between Germany and the Vatican,” Matt said, “we’ve got a damn good idea. We saw you and the priests coming out of the Alliance Industries Building. Starla Shoemaker was trying to blackmail the Church because of what’s in the folder, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, Mr. Berkeley. She was.”

“So far as we’re concerned, it’s up to the Catholic Church to determine if the document is authentic and, if so, whether it’s to be shared with the rest of the world.”

THE END

Other novels
by
William Kerr

Path of the Golden Dragon
The Red Hand
The Collector
Death’s Bright Angel
Judgment Call

“Beres
(Grand Traverse)
goes one step beyond
The Manchurian Candidate
in this engrossing thriller, which sometimes seems too obvious but then foils expectations by twisting the reader’s mind along with that of the protagonist. Recommended for all popular fiction collections.”

—Library Journal

Stanley Johnson. An ordinary man, widower, early retiree, biding his time until Social Security kicks in.

An ex-prostitute, heroin junkie, just trying to hang on to life.

Her Sugar Daddy. Wealthy, powerful, mysterious.

The couple in the apartment across from Stan. His ex-employer. His landlady. His would-be girlfriend. The ghosts of his wife and son.

The upcoming presidential election.

And a plot so convoluted, so sick and twisted, it will rock the world.
The President’s Nemesis.
They will stop him…if they can.

ISBN# 9781932815733
Hardcover / Political Thriller
US $24.95 / CDN $33.95
Available Now
www.michaelberes.com

Calvin Samuels is a public defender with a passion for sticking by the underdog. His clients are desperate men and women with desperate cases. Like John Rogers. Although Samuels saved him from a life behind bars, he couldn’t save his life. Within months of his acquittal, Rogers’ body is fished from the Ohio River, two bullet holes in the back of his head. Police speculate his death was the result of a drug deal gone bad.

Believing he failed a friend who depended on him, Samuels seeks redemption in the representation of Mark Alexander, accused of the brutal murder of two drug dealers. Needing to believe in his client’s innocence, however, Samuels is blind to clues that Alexander is not what, or who, he seems. Until he meets Allison Morris, Alexander’s former lover and the prosecution’s most damning witness. Could Alexander actually be Rogers’ murderer?

But when the trial finally reaches its stunning conclusion, Samuels’ descent into the maelstrom has only just begun.

ISBN# 9781932815627
Mass Market Paperback / Suspense
US $7.99 / CDN $10.99
Available Now