The terrorist. The Vatican. The sign

It was a cold and rainy day in Rome. Ominous black clouds raced over the Eternal City bringing joy only to the river Tiber in anticipation of a deluge that would swell it from a late summer trickle into a raging torrent. A wall of water that would sweep away the ugly algae clinging to piers and bridges and wash the detritus of mankind left on its banks by millions of tourists.

In the dreary murk, the Castel Sant’Angelo seemed to be squatting menacingly on the river bank, almost as a warning to those with evil intent who would pass by its walls on their way to the Vatican City.

A shambling figure, wrapped in a cloak against the biting cold wind, paused briefly to exchange a few pleasantries with a group of Somali pavement traders huddling under a broken café umbrella advertising Peroni beer. They were desperately hoping that somehow, some misguided oriental tourists would walk by and relieve them of their stock of fake designer sunglasses and plastic statues of Moses, mass produced in China by factories full of atheists.

The figure strode on up the Via della Conciliazione—that broad and elegant avenue hacked out of the ancient city by Mussolini in 1929 and which modern Romans dislike with a passion.

He stopped for a while and stared at the majesty of St Peter’s basilica and took in the awesome beauty of the façade and square surrounded by perfectly placed columns. A black limousine carrying two splendidly attired cardinals swept by, splashing water from a leaking drain over the man’s sandaled feet.

On he trudged, past the palace of Cardinal Cesi and paused at the edge of Piazza San Pietro to gaze once again at the greatest edifice ever raised to the legacy of Catholicism. Two traffic policemen, sheltering from the cold in a nearby doorway, watched the silent bearded figure.

“Look at that guy, he could be Osama bin Laden’s brother,” quipped one of them.

“You wonder”, said the other, “how these guys actually get into the country. He’s probably a refugee from Libya who bribed his way across on a fishing boat.”

The man walked across the piazza and joined a queue of tourists, pilgrims and clergy who, in spite of the inclement weather, were determined to brave the cold for a chance to wander around and perhaps even be fortunate enough to attend Mass in the world’s most iconic church.

The bearded man eventually reached the door and shuffled along with the others in the queue towards a booth where each paid their entrance fee.

He was stopped and asked for three euros. The man looked bemused and turned his palms upward in that international recognised gesture meaning, “I have no money”.

He tried once again to enter but was firmly taken in hand by a black-suited security guard and politely sent on his way.

The guard walked over to the a Swiss Guard on duty nearby and whispered: “Watch that guy, he’s up to no good. Looks like a damn terrorist and he’ll probably try and sneak in again.”

The shambling figure started walking back the way he had come, looking saddened and dejected. And cold. And somewhere, judging by his body language, he just didn’t want to be anymore.

He looked up at the sky hoping for a tiny break in the overcast so that he could glimpse the sun for just a fraction of a second and remember the endless sun-filled days of his homeland.

He stepped off the pavement and was jerked out of his reverie by the blast of a klaxon as a tour bus swept by missing him by inches.

The same two traffic policemen, looked out from their shelter and one shouted: “Hey Osama, you won’t be given any virgins in heaven if you are killed by a bus.”

Halfway down the Via della Conciliazione he turned and looked again at St Peter’s. An American tourist and his wife were standing nearby taking photographs.

Suddenly there was what sounded like a crack of thunder and the dome of the basilica broke in two leaving a gaping void three metres wide.

The American grabbed his wife by the arm and said: “Jesus Christ! Did you see that?”

She was too dumbfouded to respond. But, the shambling figure nearby turned to him and said: “??? ???.”

Which translated literally from Hebrew means: “I did indeed.”