The HolyPhone Confessional Crisis Read online

  Michele continued: “As for the meeting at the Belvoir, it is critically important. I’m not, however, going to tell you more in the car.”

  “Why not?” she asked, almost pouting (she could feel it, from inside. Thank goodness that he was driving and could not see her).

  “The reason I won’t tell you anything now is nothing to do with you per se. I do not want the others to think that you and I are ganging up on them in any way. Also I have the feeling that if the three of you hear exactly the same words in my description then there’ll be less opportunity for misunderstanding. With a common understanding we’re more likely to come up with a mutually acceptable solution that’ll preserve our objectives. Does that make sense?

  “By the way, I assume you have never met the Condesa? No. It was the same for me until yesterday evening. By chance we were eating in the same hotel restaurant there. She introduced herself to me, asking me to call her Inma.

  “She isn’t quite what I expected. I know from dealing with her that she is sharp and able, in a business sort of way. But you would never in a month of Sundays have expected a countess to be so poorly dressed. Even a nun would be smarter. She seems to have a taste for sacks as dresses, the very opposite of your chic and elegance, which you still have even by Roman standards. It took me all my training not to make a comment.”

  “If she is like you describe it’s just as well that you kept quiet. A woman does not welcome what would only come across as a criticism. On the other hand it suggests she’s hiding something. I wonder what it might be. Could it be a lack of security or has she some deformity or handicap? I wonder.”

  “Regarding insecurity, it is not to do with her work. There she seems totally at ease with herself. About your other suggestions, I’ve no idea. I saw nothing to confirm any of your suspicions. She moves well. We walked to Mass together in Jaffa this morning and she easily matched my walking speed. I’ll look forward to your insights.”

  Miriam almost gloated to herself. She was going to be with another woman who, from Michele’s description, was not as she. In addition, Michele had been generous in his compliments to her. He had noticed.

  “Is she good-looking?”

  “I would have to say no, or least not to my taste. She has a long, narrow face, thick glasses and had hair done up in a bun, both last night and this morning.”

  “Oh well. We’ll see. How much further do we have to go?”

  By now they were well past halfway. Michele said they would be turning right towards a place called Afula.

  “That is close to where my sister lives. You remember her? The one you met off Wall Street one evening? Of course you do. It was her husband to whom you wanted me to make the introduction. I wonder if I will see her. She has not sounded particularly happy in recent years. I would hate even more to miss seeing my nephews.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Friday, Belvoir

  Noach turned into the entrance to Kokhav Hayarden. He was late. Dealing with his mother had been almost as bad as trying to handle Tamar. His mother was a model Jewish mother, convinced that she knew best for everybody and sure she should be in charge of everything, including his life as well as anybody related. This, of course, included Tamar and the boys. Sometimes he envied his sister in Australia. At least she had thousands of kilometres of distance between them and, because El Al did not fly there, his mother would never dream of going to visit. Such good fortune. He was envious.

  He started up the long approach road. It was warm here at the foot of the hills on which the massive fortress stood, with its views east and south east over the Jordan River towards Amman and north east to the Golan Heights, which separate Israel from Syria. The heat meant that clear views were improbable. Too bad.

  Noach had chosen this location on a whim. This twelfth-century Christian Crusader castle had been largely dismantled after an eighteen-month siege by the Muslim Saladin. Finally in his hands, Saladin’s objective had been to make sure it could never again be used as the military strong point it had been, dominating the Jordan Valley and the road south from Damascus to Jerusalem as well as the entrance to the fertile Ysrael Valley to the west where he lived in Nahalal. Although no historian, he marvelled that anybody could resist a siege for as long as a year and a half, only surrendering when offered an unhindered escape to the coast. The thought of being cooped up within its massive red walls, alternating between summer temperatures that could reach over 40C and winter ones which fell well below 0C, with snow around, was beyond his ability to comprehend.

  The good thing about the place was, he mused, that not many visited and it was a big site. Noach had brought light refreshments and snacks for he did not know how long this impromptu meeting would continue. Probably he should have brought some beers, but in his desire to motivate his mother to help Tamar he had forgotten.

  Seven slow kilometres later he pulled into the parking area. This was large but only had a couple of cars, both beaten up and elderly. Clearly these were local, not rentals. He drove over to the one tree that looked as if it might provide shade. Gazing at the sun, Noach estimated where it would likely be in three hours’ time and parked so that it was in the sun now but would not be later, unless the talking ran longer than he expected. He also checked when sundown would occur. He knew he must be back in Nahalal by then or he would face the wrath of his mother for breaking the ban on driving on Shabbat. Whether this would be with Miriam or not was something he hoped would not be for debate.

  Noach considered heading over to the Tourist Centre to see what, if any, other refreshments might be bought but as he started a dusty new Mazda pulled up alongside. In it was Miriam, waving to attract his attention. He had forgotten how severe she was even if nothing like Tamar was now or had ever been. Where Tamar was of middling height, Miriam was taller and had kept her figure, though her face did not attract him as much as Tamar’s. There was a hardness in it, something he had not liked even when in New York.

  Beside Miriam he saw Michele. They had met before and talked often. Though Tamar did not know it, it was this priest, though he was not dressed as one, who had suggested how he could deliver an income to fund his beloved Settlers — that is if he would turn his knowledge of computers and banking to their mutual advantage. When Noach had first heard of Michele’s proposition he was unable to believe it. Only later when he had had time to consider did he appreciate just how elegant the proposal was. It also gave him enormous personal pleasure to think that, unknowingly, Christians — especially American and European ones — were funding Israelis to cement their hold on Judea and Samaria. That it was also providing his family with a good living as well as an overseas investment fund for a rainy day was an extra, not one he intended mentioning, though he suspected that some of the others would be doing the same. He would ask no uncomfortable questions.

  He suggested Michele park. This he did, doing exactly what a contemptuous Noach had predicted to himself — in the shade. That this shade would disappear within an hour bothered him not at all, so he said nothing. “Stupid American priest,” was his unuttered thought.

  Michele and Miriam climbed out of the car. They had been cool in its air conditioned micro climate. Now, being nearly midday, it was over 30C and humid. Soon both were visibly warming and beginning to sweat. So much for being used to Roman or East Coast temperatures.

  Miriam came over and kissed Noach. It was politeness. Michele shook his hand. More politeness (and at least Michele did not make a sign of the cross).

  “Where is our fourth?” Noach asked.

  At the same time Miriam asked, “Where is Judith?”

  It always annoyed Tamar and Noach that Miriam never used Tamar.

  “Tamar is at home, preparing a Shabbat dinner, at which she expects me to produce you like a rabbit out of a cap.” That did not sound quite right but nobody picked him up on it. “You are invited, as well Michele and the Condesa if she makes it. Have you heard anything from her? Will she be coming?”

 
“Yes, she will,” said Michele. “We were staying in the same hotel last night. She decided to drive herself here.”

  Noach thought to himself: “They stayed in the same hotel. In the same bed? But Michele had been involved with Miriam. Does she know? Does she care? Might this open up an opportunity for me where I can apply pressure if needed?” He doubted it. It was too obvious and Miriam did not seem put out. Perhaps it really was innocent.

  Two more cars entered the parking area. One headed for them and parked. Out stepped possibly the worst dressed lady that Noach had ever seen, and he was aware that Israelis had never been known for sartorial splendour. This lady made Tamar look smart and Miriam a beauty queen.

  Michele brought her over and introduced her to Noach and Miriam. He started down a name that sounded like it had more syllables than the Torah. The Condesa stopped him.

  “Just call me Inma. It’s simple and it works.”

  She smiled. The difference was miraculous. Her plain face suddenly looked beautiful, even attractive, which was astonishing given the awful way she dressed herself. If Noach was astonished, it appeared that Miriam and Michele were too. Noach thought to himself, “This could be a chameleon: watch yourself and take care.” The smile faded. She returned to being a frump.

  “Shall we find some shade and start? If you will give me a hand with these drinks and bites to eat we can walk over towards the remains of the Eastern Walls. They have the best views over the Jordan Valley. I think we’ll find some shade and privacy there.”

  Friday, Belvoir

  It took them longer than he expected to find a place with both shade and an absence of people. They thought of entering the massive castle structure or maybe descending into the dry moat and sitting in the shade of the fortress. The latter was the most appealing, except that no one was sure whether their voices might echo and carry between the ten-metre deep moat walls. Eventually they went into what seemed to be a sculpture garden and found an isolated tree. One advantage was that they could move around the tree as the sun changed position.

  Once all were sitting, pretty uncomfortably from their faces, Michele began.

  “Thank you for making the journey here. As I will describe to you we face a significant problem, one which I hope we can jointly solve.

  “So you know, I have not discussed what has happened with anyone, not even Miriam on the way from Ben Gurion.

  “The problem is my boss, the Cardinal da Ferraz, whom you will remember is the principle sponsor of the whole HolyPhone concept. Last week he came to me voicing an instinct that something was not right with the project, worrying that the Vatican might be being burned again. I think his present concern at the moment is mostly Mafia-related. That does not help us because he wants to dig deeper and ensure all is as clean as the church expects. The difficulty for us is that any investigation might by chance uncover our own activities, with horrible consequences for our objectives and ambitions, even ourselves.

  “There is some good news, however –”

  An aggressive Noach interrupted: “How could this Ferraz think there is a problem? Has there been some leak from one of us? Does anybody outside the four of us know the full picture?”

  He was visibly upset, glaring at the others in turn as if such male intimidation might instantly produce a traitor in their midst.

  “We are the only four who know the details of how the faithful unknowingly are paying for Miriam’s father’s church, for building Opus Dei’s reserves and for your Settlers. I do not believe there has been a leak from any of us. The reason I’m pretty confident about saying this is that the cardinal did not approach me with specifics. He came with, as mentioned, a suspicion, a feeling, an intuition.

  “What matters is that he has a known nose for trouble. This is why he is so trusted by the Holy Father and why he was able, if barely, to persuade his more conservative brethren in the College of Cardinals to back the whole HolyPhone concept. It is that nose for trouble that concerns us, because we cannot predict what it might smell or where.

  “As I was saying, however, there is some good news. That is, put bluntly, he asked me to do the initial investigating. By accident, or perhaps not by accident, given I set up the financial side of the HolyPhone, he wants me to explore if anything wrong is occurring. He’ll probably ask me for the suggestions as to what to do if anything untoward surfaces. Thus I am in the key role.

  “The question for today and over the next weeks is how to re-establish his confidence and turn off that annoying nose?

  “Before discussing ideas, I would like to paint a perspective of what the HolyPhone has achieved, both for the Catholic Church and for our own objectives. I shall try to do this with some simple numbers. But in the process I also must tell you that we are not here entirely as equals.

  “No, that is not the right way to put it. We are here as equals but each of our objectives benefits to different degrees depending on the original input to what we have been doing. It is enough now to say that the ‘rewards’ have gone mostly to Opus Dei and the Settlers via Inma and Noach, and less to Miriam’s father’s The Lord’s Church of the Second Coming with Our Redemption or the Vatican ‘Special Fund’ that I supervise. We can discuss this allocation later, but only if you think it relevant.

  “You will all recall the original basis on which the HolyPhone was justified. This was primarily to free up time for priests by removing their confessional time obligations. In so doing this eased the lack of manpower problems of the church. Secondly, the objective was to raise money for the church and funnel this directly into the Vatican, without going through the long payment chain from parish to bishopric to archdiocese and eventually to Rome, as happens with normal contributions collected in a church. Today we are only interested in this second part, particularly the reallocating to ourselves of some of the money volunteered when people decide to use the HolyPhone.

  “Yes, you know all of this already. I apologise. There is method in me going through the background because it may point out where we have had some form of failure and equally it might alert us to ways in which we can satisfy or redirect da Ferraz.

  “A key to our success so far results from da Ferraz’s determination that the entire HolyPhone project should have no chance of being tainted by the Vatican Bank and other related Vatican scandals. That is why I was moved from the United States to Rome, to work out the financial engineering and the associated systems that would enable the HolyPhone to be as clean as a whistle.

  “In turn this meant that I was in the right place early enough to shape and decide how everything would work. It also meant, of course, that we could design in the loopholes that we are enjoying today and wish to enjoy in future.

  “However, if anything, the HolyPhone project has succeeded beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, to the point that da Ferraz is regarded as almost a miracle worker and near saint within the Vatican. At a stroke he has eased the lack of priests’ problem, improved how parish priests work, extended the times when the faithful are able to confess and delivered hundreds of millions to the Vatican’s bank accounts. And this latter is essentially the problem. It amounts to hundreds of millions of dollars each year. Not cumulatively.

  “Looking back, we were all, including da Ferraz, rather naïve. The working assumption of Mariano (who was Inma’s leader in Opus Dei, but alas he died before witnessing the fruits of our success) and I was that perhaps 1 per cent of the nearly 600 million Catholics in Europe and North America might each offer $10 per month as part of their confession by HolyPhone, and this after two to three years for its gradual introduction and acceptance. $10/month from six million people added up to $60 million per month for the Vatican, or $720 million a year. If 1 per cent of the faithful paid this weekly, rather than each month, you multiply that already large number by another four.

  “Our thought was that if we could redirect, say, a small portion of 1 per cent of that income we would substantially contribute to each of our causes and in a form that was
like a regular income on which we could depend.”

  Michele looked at their faces, watching them redo the maths. He himself had forgotten their original hopes, which were not big. Half a per cent or less of $60 million per month was only $300,000 to be split between their four causes. That was tiny in financial industry terms but as ‘free untaxed income’ it was sufficient to keep their causes more than happy.

  Friday, Belvoir

  Michele continued: “Right from the first broad introduction in 100 churches in three cities in Italy, the response was beyond anything the Vatican or we expected. Even I do not know the actual attendance figures for each country. These are one of the Vatican’s most closely guarded secrets. I cannot even deduce them from the monies coming in because the financial system we implemented to obtain our modest percentage is such that it deliberately prevents such analysis. For example, I have no precise idea, other than hearsay, what are the average confessional contributions per person in each country. In the United States I believe they are often over $50 whereas in somewhere like Inma’s Spain, in crisis, they are said to be around Euros 20 per confession. Germany, France and Italy are in between.

  “At the same time we all know that the 1 per cent we hoped might choose to confess and contribute by HolyPhone for confession was a gross underestimate. You have seen the pictures of how people queue to use the HolyPhone, now that churches are regularly open twelve hours a day.

  “If the impact on the Vatican finances has been astonishing, the impact on each of our special initiatives has been equally beneficial, as I am sure you have all noticed. Inma, don’t the reserves that Opus Dei is holding against the bad times that Mariano and you predict for the Spanish Church look healthy?”