BENITO MUSSOLINI IN RETROSPECT.
The
following is an excerpt from a novel I am writing titled The
Palazzo Agrippina Murders. Marcia Mellon, a writer of detective novels and
TV scripts, is researching the fallout from the collapse of the Banco
Ambrosiano, the “Vatican’s Bank”, and her research takes her to the mystery of
the death of the bank’s director who was found hanging on Black Friars bridge
in London. The choice of bridge is significant. The Black Friars were
Dominicans who served as the Vatican’s hitmen. The Communist threat made them
unlikely allies of the Freemasons. Here Marcia is grilling DeSilva, a Freemason
with Underworld contacts.
‘What
a load of horseshit,’ said Miriam Kuntz. ‘I need a rye to clear my head.’
So
do I, thought Marcia, but business first. She waylaid DeSilva before he reached
the door.
‘Thank
you for your great lecture,’ she said. ‘It was enlightening.’ DeSilva beamed.
‘I’m Marcia Mellon, the detective story writer. The creator of the detective,
Aristide Blanchard and his parrot Willoughby.’
‘Never
heard of him,’ said Silva, ‘but I do like detective stories. Aren’t you the
person who asked about the Banco Ambrosiano scandal? Do you want your Aristide
Blanchard to get his teeth into it?’
‘I’m
always on the lookout for new material.’
‘Well,
then, when you deal with the Freemasons and Propaganda Due, don’t be
judgmental. You’re too young to remember what Italy was like after the War. You
have heard about Benito Mussolini? I never met him but I know a lot about him.
He was a big man. He wanted to make Italy great again, and what’s wrong with
that? Il Duce, we called him. When he was our leader, the mafia was held
in check. The garbage was collected and the trains ran on time. We knew our
property would be protected and we didn’t fear any communists. It was his ally
who destroyed him.
‘Hitler,
you mean?’
‘Yes,
Il Duce followed Hitler into the world war. He thought he was a winner
and who can blame him? Hitler’s army cut through the French defences like a
knife through butter. Your ambassador in London, Kennedy, President Kennedy’s
father, thought Britain was next. Everyone supports a winner. Even the Jew
Menachem Begin who was later become Israel’s prime minister wanted to work with
Hitler. Then Hitler threw his advantage away. Timing is everything and Hitler’s
was bad.’
‘Bad
timing?,
‘Yes,
bad timing. He should first have won the Battle of the Atlantic and starved out
Britain. He was almost there. The Canadians were fighting hard to keep the
shipping lanes open but they were losing. Then he could have attacked Russia
though he should have waited until he was ready for the Russian winter. He
should never have declared war on the United States when he did. He was the architect of the alliance against
him, and the upshot was that we had Americans and British and Canadians and
even Indians – Sikhs – on Italian soil, fighting 0n our soil. The Americans
revived the mafia for they wanted its help against Mussolini, and they didn’t
recognize until too late where the real danger was. But the Vatican did.’
‘The
Vatican was playing with a weak, hand I think’
‘So
it looked for allies against the godless Communists. The Vatican and the
Freemasons are not natural allies –anything but – but they had a common enemy in the Cold War.
I was—am -- a Freemason -- inactive now
–but I can tell you we needed the Freemasons during the Cold War and they did
good work. My own lodge, P2 split from the Freemasons back in 1976, and we
reinvented ourselves. . Under our leader Licio Gelli, we took over a newspaper
in Milan with money from the Vatican Bank and corrected its political outlook.
P2 had powerful members, like Michele Sindona the banker they used to call the
‘Shark’, and Silvio Berlusconi, the prime minister. Even Vittorio Emmanuele,
the claimant to the Italian throne. Now we all have mani pulliti, -- ‘clean
hands,’ but they used to be just a little soiled and maybe still are.’
‘I
think you could tell me a lot. What is your interest here? Do P2’s tentacles
stretch as far as Naples?’
Da
Silva laughed.
‘I’m
looking after our interests. However, this isn’t our turf. The big society here
is the Cammora. You know. Garbage collection, smuggling, some prostitution.
Helping poor Africans come to Italy to work. . Not our thing.’
‘People
smuggling?’
‘There’s
money in it. The Camorra smells money. But my hands are clean’.
‘I’d
like to pump you for information, Commendatore. At least, my detective,
Aristide Blanchard does’
DeSilva
acknowledged the honorific with a good-natured smile.
‘Ah,
Miss Mellon, you must remember that the salient characteristic of a secret
society is that it is secret. We don’t
give interviews. However, are you going
to Rome after your summer school is over? Yes? Then I shall be at the Hotel
Majestic on the Via Veneto for a couple of weeks. I might have red meat that
your Sig. Blanchard can use.’
‘Grazia
tanto. I’ll remember that. We’ll see each other in Rome.’
In
the garden just outside the door were Luigi and Conradin, speaking to each
other, Luigi in broken English and Conradin in his school-boy Italian. Luigi
was to take DaSilva to the Albergo Felice where he would spend the
night. DaSilva nodded to him, and Luigi obediently hoisted DaSilva’s heavy
suitcase onto his shoulder and led the way along the garden path to the hotel.