Death In Rome

When Pope John Paul I suddenly died after just 33 days in office in 1978, Rome's tireless rumor mill lurched into high gear. Vatican fumbling and secrecy only compounded the confusion. The whispers about skulduggery revived in 1984, when author David Yallop speculated in his best-selling book, In God's Name, that the Pope had been poisoned by one of half a dozen suspects with various motives.

In a rare bit of curtain lifting, the Vatican responded two years ago by giving its blessing to an investigation of the murder charges by British journalist John Cornwell, whose book, A Thief in the Night, was released in Britain in late May. A onetime seminarian, Cornwell, 48, is a veteran editor for the London Observer and a novelist. Rome backed the project after Britain's George Basil Cardinal Hume vouched for Cornwell's fairness and integrity. The author spent months interviewing the main witnesses, many of whom decided to speak only because of the Vatican go-ahead.

Cornwell's conclusion is that John Paul I died of a pulmonary embolism. (In 1978 the Vatican had said a heart attack was the cause.) His death apparently resulted from long-standing medical problems that were exacerbated by the early pressures of being Pope. Still, Rome may rue the day it encouraged Cornwell. The full story of the Pope's death, says Cornwell, is "much more shameful" than mere murder, and "the whole of the Vatican is responsible." In the days before he died, says Cornwell, John Paul suffered severe chest pains and swelling of his legs, yet nobody sought medical help for him. "He died of neglect and a lack of love," Cornwell charges.

Along the way, Cornwell's grumpy sources also manage to portray the Vatican as "a palace of gossipy eunuchs" and "a sea of brilliant bitchery." Last week a Vatican official derided Cornwell's findings as "lamentably gossipy." But disturbing as the author's conclusions may be, not everyone was displeased. "It's much better to appear a little ridiculous," said Vittoria Marigonda, secretary to Archbishop Paul Marcinkus, "than to be seen as a bunch of murderers."