“My wife is expecting me for dinner.”
“I’m afraid you missed dinner a long time ago.”
“Can you at least remove the blindfold and these restraints?”
“The names, Herr Estermann. Now.”
“Is there any particular order you want them?”
“How about alphabetically?”
“It would help if I had my phone.”
“You’re a professional. You don’t need your phone.”
Estermann tilted his head toward the ceiling and drew a breath. “Cardinal Azevedo.”
“Tegucigalpa?”
“There’s only one Azevedo in the College of Cardinals.”
“How much did you pay him?”
“One million.”
“Where’s the money?”
“Bank of Panama.”
“Next?”
Estermann cocked his head. “Ballantine of Philadelphia.”
“How much?”
“One million.”
“Where’s the money?”
“The Vatican Bank.”
“Next?”
The last name on Estermann’s list was Cardinal Péter Zikov, the archbishop of Esztergom-Budapest, one million euros, payable to his personal account at Banco Popolare Hungary. Alltotaled, 42 of the 116 cardinal-electors who would choose the successor to Pope Paul VII had received money in exchange for their votes. The total cost of the operation was slightly less than $50 million. Every penny of it had come from the coffers of the Wolf Group, the global conglomerate otherwise known as the Order of St. Helena Inc.
“And that’s all of the names?” probed Gabriel. “You’re sure you haven’t left anyone out?”
Estermann shook his head vigorously. “The other eighteen cardinals who will vote for Emmerich are members of the Order. They received no payment beyond their monthly stipends.” He paused. “And then there’s Archbishop Donati, of course. Two million euros. I deposited the money after he and the Israeli broke into the Secret Archives.”
Gabriel glanced at Eli Lavon. “And you’re sure you didn’t deposit that money in an account I don’t know about?”
“No,” said Estermann. “It’s in Donati’s personal account at the Vatican Bank.”
Gabriel turned to a fresh page in his notebook, despite the fact he hadn’t bothered to write down a single name or number. “Let’s go through it one more time, shall we? Just to make certain we haven’t missed anyone.”
“Please,” begged Estermann. “I have a terrible headache from the drugs you gave me.”
Gabriel looked at Mordecai and Oded and in German instructed them to return Estermann to the holding cell. Upstairs in the drawing room, he and Lavon reviewed the recording on a laptop computer.
