Excerpt:
 

We wandered through the common areas and into a barracks-style sleeping area. Like the common room, it was deserted--or so we thought. William heard the noise first and put his finger to his lips. I remained silent and heard it also: moaning indicative of sex rather than pain. One of the guards sounded in the throes of sexual ecstasy. We rounded the corner and and saw two young guards through an open door. They lay on one bed, bodies glistening with sweat, as they writhed with pleasure. One man was atop the other, sucking his member. The one on his back ran his hands through his lover's hair as he enjoyed the intimate caress. I couldn't take my gaze off the beautiful ass of the man on top. I knew we should leave them alone, but I was transfixed by the beauty of their loving expressions. William pulled me to one side so that they would not see us if they looked up.

Without fear of being spotted, I took a closer look. Both men had short blond hair and well-muscled bodies achieved through hours of exercise. The man on top left off sucking and moved up to kiss his partner for at least a full minute. It was clear that they were making love and not just screwing. After breaking the kiss, the man on the bottom got up on his knees. The other young man entered his partner and began to thrust slow and deep. They called one another's names in the heat of the moment, giving us the identities of the beautiful young soldiers. After about five minutes of intense sex, I motioned to William that we should go. I had become a little hot under the cassock, to say the least. I noticed a roster posted on a bulletin board and went down the list until I found what I was looking for. Now I had the soldiers' last names as well.

"Well, that was the last thing I expected to find in the guards' quarters!" I said as we left the way we'd come in.

"What do you intend to do about it, Brian? You're not going to expose them, are you?"

"Of course not, you silly goose. But I do intend to have a chat with both men about being more careful. They'd be drummed out of the guard had someone else caught them."

"I have to say that it was a thing of beauty and I could have watched them all day long."

"Yes, well, we invaded their privacy sufficiently, I should think. Besides, you're supposed to be more like Miss Jane Marple, and not Jeff Stryker."

"Hmm, Jeff Stryker…."

I responded by giving William a light tap on the back of the head for more than one reason. We returned with enough time to relax and have something to drink before the press conference. I took several calls while William made several, advising key people to listen to Vatican radio. When it was time, Daniel met me outside the apartments and we walked to the audience hall. I entered the room to a sea of flashes from the various print media as well as an Argus's worth of the little red eyes on the television cameras. Despite the furor, I intended to do this with as much dignity as humanly possible. William addressed the media first to lay out the ground rules, and then all attention focused on me.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the press. Thank you for coming to the Vatican for this most important annoucement. Upon my being elected as the new pope, I looked into long-held rumors to see if there was any substance to them. It is my very sad duty to report to the faithful that Pope John Paul the first was murdered on September twenty-eighth, nineteen seventy-eight, by members of the Roman Curia with the aid of the Sicilian Mafia and the Soviet KGB. Evidence has surfaced that indicates who was involved in the conspiracy to end the life of Albino Luciano. One of the principal conspirators has confessed and provided the Church with a full history of the crime. He has been turned over to the Italian authorites for justice and is being presented to the court in Rome at this very moment. This man is Eugenio Rossetti, who was until yesterday the archbishop of Milan. He has been relieved of the clerical state, excommunicated, and declared anathama for his role in the murder. As far as we can tell, no other person involved in the death of Pope John Paul the first is still alive. There will be no release of any documents except from the Office of the Procuratore della Repubblica. All information and evidence has been turned over to them. The Church has been deeply wounded by the actions of these men and it will take a long time to heal. We pray that the murdered pope can now rest peacefully. He is a martyr for the faith and, as such, I will soon declare him Blessed. As the papal secretary explained, I will not be answering any questions and I have nothing further to add to this statement. Thank you for coming and reporting this tragic but important news."

I stood, ignoring the shouted questions that violated protocol. One does not shout at the pope, although I'm not sure that is a good restriction. I could think of several popes I would have like to have shouted at. We quickly left the audience hall and returned to the second floor. I peered out of a window and saw reporters actually running to their vehicles while talking on cell phones. It would not take long for this bit of news to reach the multitudes, and the truth would finally be known. The press conference had taken exactly twenty-two minutes, including remarks made at the beginning by William.

"I think I need to go to the Sistine Chapel to pray. This has been both a terrible day and, at the same time, a cleansing day. Will you come with me, William?"

"Of course. Why not pray in the most beautiful chapel in the world?"

We altered course and the guards took up positions outside the chapel, which was now closed to the public. My eyes wandered over the beauty created by Michaelangelo. What was he thinking when he was painting these scenes? Was he angered by being changed off of the marble work he was commissioned to do and put on what he essentially thought of as decorating and repairing ceilings? Well, lucky are we for that change in assignments.

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