Lattacher Mission Lucifer

1. Auflage 2020
ISBN: 978-3-347-04392-3
Verlag: tredition
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 400 Seiten

Reihe: tredition GmbH

Bathed in sweat, Magnus Lorenzi awakes after a frightening dream: He has seen people die of toxic fumes. The danger comes from space, a mysterious fog. On the same morning, Lorenzi learns of the unexpected death of a dear friend. But there is no corpse. Cryptic hints about his whereabouts lead him and Carla Rubinetti with a friend to Italy. There, they meet so-called humanists whose deeds are only loosely aligned to humanist ideals. They are introduced to the 'secrets of the moon' and the 'principle of reversal', receive revealing insights about the just elected Pope, prostrating himself the Lamb of God, and the power of paganism within the Church. Finally, they end up in the U.S.A. where the Vatican turns its eye towards the universe on the sacred mountain of the Apaches with the most up-to-date telescope technology has to offer - not just to study the world of stars. Suddenly darkness falls on Earth. Could this be a global power cut or are there other powers at play?

Der Autor Siegbert Lattacher hat bisher vier Sachbücher und drei Kriminalromane geschrieben. Bei Tredition ist von ihm bisher der Kriminalroman "Verschwörung im Zeichen der Eule" erschienen. Siegbert Lattacher, an Austrian author, has so far published four non-fiction books and three crime novels. The crime novel "The Owl Sign Conspiracy" has also been published by Tredition.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Lattacher, Siegbert

Leseproben

Part II

The Secret of the Moon

In the Lord’s command” was the headline of an article in the Italian paper Il Fatto Quotidiano. The paper reported that the house of the film producer in Carinthia had been set on fire in the Lord’s command.

“Filthy rag,” the Cardinal Secretary, who was just enjoying a coffee, couldn’t contain himself when he read the news. “Sorry,” his eyes implored the painting of the Maria with the Christ child on the wall. It’s impossible to work with people subscribing to a secular mind, he thought. He picked up his mobile and dialled a number. In a few brief words, he gave the recipient a task to do.

Carinthia

Lorenzi, Rubinetti and Schatz packed a few things for an express trip to Italy. Schatz had bought new clothing since everything had been reduced to ashes. They set off at nine o’clock. The prospect of spending a few days at the seaside put them all in a good mood. Schatz stopped off at a supermarket where they bought some provisions for the journey and a paper. He remembered his last trip to Italy with his late wife. They had travelled to Venice and almost ended up in an eight kilometre traffic jam had they not left the motorway in time. On the bypass route on the A-road, they had only managed snail pace. Instead of three hours, they were on the road for six hours. He also didn’t enjoy negotiating so many tunnels that were unavoidable along the route through the mountainous Via Canale shortly after crossing the Italian border.

Magnus leafed through a daily and said: “Listen to this in the paper: The house of the film producer in Carinthia was burnt down as a contract crime initiated by the Church. The paper refers to a report published in an Italian daily.”

Upper Adriatic

The man calling himself Janus sat on the balcony and looked down onto the sea. He wore a wide brimmed sun hat protecting his face from the sun’s rays. On his lap lay a copy of II Fatto Quotidiano.

“Well, what do you think?” said the man calling himself Boreas.

“It is not much consolation for me, as you know. My psychological and physical pains are not eased that way.”

“That was just the start. They need to understand that their scheming will be revealed.”

“I don’t think it makes any difference. What type of justice shall I receive? My life will never be what it was.”

“It’ll certainly be worth fighting for a more just world,” Boreas said. Remember Brother Goethe: To be a person, means to be a fighter.”

“The house of the film producer, that can only mean Hermann’s house,” Herwig stated.

“Yes, I think so as well. We haven’t heard about any other fire so far,” said Carla.

“It says in the paper that the Church is behind it. Sounds absurd, doesn’t it” Herwig remarked.

“Not that absurd,” Magnus replied. “Remember, it had been men of the Church that abducted Carla last year. And we experienced with our own eyes how the false preacher from Patmos had tried to take over the leadership of the Church. We could leak all that to the public as well.”

“Didn’t Gerry Kramer, the reporter, try all this? Who took any notice of it?” asked Herwig.

“We don’t know,” Magnus replied.

“Maybe those, who felt offended. We had agreed that it wasn’t a good idea to discuss the issue in public. Have you forgotten already?” Carla reminded the men. “The pack doesn’t seem to give any peace. Maybe they are involved in the disappearance of Hermann.”

“It’s possible. Hopefully, we will find some answers in Duino,” Schatz opined and steered the car towards the exit for Trieste.

*

Upper Adriatic

Two men were observing he castle with binoculars from quite a distance from the cliffs. The building sat majestically on a rock strutting out of the sea like a powerful eagle’s nest. One of them photographed it and made some notes. The men had already studied the estate from a bird’s eye perspective via Google Earth.

Lorenzi from Vienna, Rubinetti from Sweden and Schatz from Carinthia moved into their rooms at Villa Rilke, a hotel close to the local landmark, the castle. Finding free rooms in the pre-season hadn’t been a problem. A friend of Schatz’s had recommended Villa Rilke. They had a pool, a shadow spending garden and the sea wasn’t far. The proprietor spoke some German. He invited the Austrians for a drink as a form of welcome. They sat on the patio and drank Prosecco from Valdobbiadene.

“This is a fantastic location,” Schatz said to the proprietor.

“Thank you, I’m happy you like.”

“The castle is an impressive building,” said Rubinetti pointing in the direction of the building sitting on the rock.

“Yes, castle beautiful.”

“What kind of castle is it?” Schatz asked.

“Castle from old family, old aristocracy.”

Schatz was not that interested in the old walls. “How are we to find hints here as to who sent the claim to the insurance?” he asked the others.

They had travelled to Italy with a lot of expectations and thought about who to trace in a place called Duino or who could help them in this matter.

“We should have asked Hermann’s sister whether Hermann had links to Duino,” Herwig mentioned.

“Yes, good idea,” said Carla. “Let’s call her.”

Magnus took his mobile out of his pocket. He had saved the number of Hermann’s sister in his contacts and dialled it. After a few seconds, she picked up. Magnus apologised for the disturbance and asked whether there was any association between Hermann and a place called Duino in Italy. She thought for bit and said that her brother had never mentioned this place to her. Magnus thanked her and put the phone down.

“No,” he said in reply to the questioning gazes of the other two.

“Do you know a man, an Austrian called Warschau, Hermann Warschau?” Carla asked the proprietor.

“No, don’t know. Ask at the castle, Signore is from Austria.”

“Thank you for the advice,” said Magnus.

They emptied their glasses, went to their rooms and freshened up. Half an hour later, they walked up to the castle.

Vienna

The police officer Arnold Heinzer had arranged to meet his friend Gerry Kramer, the journalist at a café in the town centre of Vienna. Heinzer had been to Patmos with Kramer, when Carla Rubinetti had been abducted by men from the Church. He went inside to check whether his friend had already arrived. Gerry was late, as usual, Heinzer thought and looked for an empty space. Suddenly, a man with long greasy hair got up, stubble in his face and greeted him. Heinzer was a shock as he observed the man more closely.

“Hey old chap, I’m getting money from the state as well now,” Gerry said and raised his wineglass to Arnold.

“What happened to you? Have you checked into the hotel under the bridge?”

Arnold remembered that his friend had always gone for the extreme casual look, but he had never seen him in this state. When the waiter came to the table, he ordered a coffee for himself and a glass of wine for Gerry.

“Spill, what happened?” he said and sat down with his friend.

“You remember the thing with Patmos. The chief editor sacked me because of that.”

“No, to be honest, I didn’t know. We were there and saw the priest with our own eyes.”

“Yes, but nobody believed it. In the news programme with the ORF, the moderator made me out to be an idiot, someone who had fallen for conspiracy theories.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Gerry. Can I help in any way?”

“Do you have a job for me?”

“No, but I need your help. Do you remember Hermann Warschau?”

“Sure, the fat smartarse.”

*

Duino

The air was pleasantly warm and carried the scent of the sea when they walked up the gravel path to the castle. To gain entrance to the castle estate, they had to pass the tower portal and buy a ticket. They walked along a path lined by cypresses, past aromatic bay trees and lavender bushes, exotic plants and old trees. Along the way, one could look down onto the ruins of the old castle that had been erected close by, also on the karst rock. Once they arrived in the castle yard, they saw the tower rising, the emblem of the castle. The castle was in the possession of a famous aristocratic family and thus only a few rooms were open to visitors. They had asked about the owner of the castle at the entrance. The woman at the ticket office spoke German. She made a brief phone call and told them, someone would meet them in the yard. True to her word, a man came to meet them and welcomed them in German. He introduced himself as Giovanni Ventura. The visitors introduced themselves as well.

Two men sat on the patio of their hotel in Duino and studied the plans of the castle that they had managed to get hold of. The whole thing seemed to be easier than they had imagined. They had organised all the equipment they...