The Testimonium

by Lewis Ben Smith

  “It does sound like a good plan,” said Isabella. “We’ll just need to make sure not one word of it leaks out of this room.”

  “Nothing to fear there,” said Castolfo. “The only other person who knows about it is Agent Lucoccini. Even Chief Zadora thinks that the scroll will be with the convoy.”

  They discussed the plans a bit further, and then Father MacDonald stood up. “I suppose it would not hurt to get the scroll ready for transport,” he said.

  Josh stood too. “I want to see this new compound you were describing,” he said. “I still can’t believe it works so easily.”

  The priest smiled. “I’m a constant source of wonder to those who know me, laddie!” he quipped. “Dr. Castolfo, do you have two of the plexiglass carrying tubes as well as two briefcases?”

  “Indeed, we have several of them in our collections inventory,” said the board president. “What have you got in mind?”

  “If we are going to play bait and switch, let’s make the bait look as good as we can,” replied the priest. “Joshua, be a good lad and go up to the gift shop for me. We’ll need a poster that is roughly the same size and shape as the Testimonium.”

  Josh headed upstairs, and Isabella tagged along behind. “I swear he got this idea from watching National Treasure!” Josh exclaimed.

  “You know, I bet you’re right!” Isabella said.

  When they arrived at the gift shop they had to look at each other and laugh. Right behind the cash register was a life-sized facsimile of the Testimonium hanging on the wall, and there were about twenty more of them rolled up in a tray beneath it. Josh looked at the price tag and whistled as he did the mental conversion from Euros to dollars. “Wow! They wasted no time cashing in on our find, did they?”

  “For a capitalist, you are awfully cheap!” laughed Isabella. “Here, let me use my ID card and get us the museum employee’s discount.”

  They purchased the fake scroll and headed downstairs with it. When they arrived, MacDonald was just getting set up. Two identical steel cases were on the table, both opened to reveal their heavily foam padded interiors. Next to them were two plexiglass tubes with metal ends—one end on each tube was hinged to swing open. They looked like a slightly larger version of the pneumatic tubes banks used to make drive-through deposits. Josh handed the facsimile scroll to MacDonald, who looked at it and laughed.

  “We should be getting some kind of royalties off of these,” he said. “Well, it will just make the decoy that much more realistic!” He deftly rolled up the facsimile scroll and stuffed it into one of the tubes, then closed and latched the metal cap into place. He set the tube into the foam padding and shut the case on it, then twirled the tumblers to deploy the combination lock.

  “Excellent!” said Castolfo. “Now that is Case B, and the combination is thirteen-twelve-sixty-three—my wife’s birthday. Father, if you are committed to traveling with the convoy, you might write that down somewhere. That way if you are asked to open the case and retrieve the decoy scroll, you will be able to.”

  The priest rolled up one of his sleeves and jotted the numbers on the inside of his wrist with a Sharpie. Then he took the case from the table and set it next to one of the filing cabinets. “I’m not even going to close the other case yet,” he said, “so that there is zero chance of confusing the two. But I do want to go ahead and prepare the scroll for transport. Josh, Bernardo, Isabella—you all will want to watch this, I think,” he said.

  “So tell me, Father,” said Isabella, “How many times have you used this compound?”

  “About forty times so far,” he said. “Of course, those were lab tests on papyrus and parchment samples. This will be my first actual field use on an ancient document.”

  Guioccini swallowed hard. “I think I might be a bit more confident if I had not heard that,” he said.

  MacDonald laughed. “Do you think that I would dare apply this compound to the Testimonium if I thought there was the slightest chance of damaging it?” he asked.

  That pretty well shut them all up, and they watched as MacDonald carefully lifted the cover off of the plastic stand and metal tray that the ancient scroll rested upon. The ancient papyrus lay open and flat, to all appearances as stiff as a board. The Scot reached into his satchel and produced a spray bottle with a label that simply said UNBINDER in neatly printed letters. He started at one end of the scroll and began to spray the surface of it, working his way from top to bottom on each squeeze of the trigger, and then going over the same area again. The surface of the scroll darkened for just a moment, and then lightened again. A faint smell of paraffin and alcohol pervaded the air in the lab. By the time a foot of the scroll had been sprayed, the end he had started on began to curl up of its own accord. The team watched in astonishment as the ancient papyrus slowly rolled up behind the hand of Father MacDonald while he worked the spray down the length of the scroll. It took him about five minutes to cover the entire six-foot length, taking great care not to miss a single square inch of the surface. By the time he was done, the papyrus had rolled up into a loose scroll about six inches in diameter.

  “I wouldn’t have believed it!” Josh said. “That is truly an amazing technical achievement!”

  The priest executed a mock bow, and then donned a pair of acid-free gloves in order to handle the scroll. He rolled it up a bit tighter, till it was small enough slide into the plexiglass cylinder, although it was still not as tightly rolled as it had been at the Villa Jovis when they found it. He snapped the lid of the cylinder into place once the scroll was inside, and then reverently laid the cylinder in its cushioned cavity, but left the lid of the carrying case open.

  “There it is, laddie,” he said. “Just snap it shut and spin the dials this evening, and hightail it for Rome!”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Josh said. “By the way, Dr. Castolfo, what is the combination on this case?”

  “Well, I will be traveling with you,” said the Italian, “but it would be bad if I had a heart attack or something and you didn’t know how to open the case! The combination is four-eleven-eighty-one. That is my son’s birthday.”

  Josh wrote the number on a slip of paper and slid it in his wallet, then jotted it on the back of his hand just to be safe. “Well, I guess that’s about it, then, as far as getting ready goes,” he said.

  Castolfo nodded. “I could ask you to spend some time going through the items recovered from the wreckage of the lab,” he said, “but frankly none of those things are as urgent as this. I’ll be arranging our escort vehicles this afternoon, and I don’t really need the three of you for that. You may take off until four PM if you like. That is when we will begin preparing for the evening’s subterfuge in earnest.”

  “Father, would you like to join Isabella and me?” Josh asked.

  “I think I will pass, my lad,” said the priest. “I want to talk to Dr. Henderson and the other folk at the lab in Rome, and then I really need to speak to the Vatican. I will be spending the afternoon on the phone. Besides, when young folks get a chance to spend some time together, there are few worse third wheels to have along than a priest!”

  Isabella laughed as she and Joshua walked toward the elevator. “So what would you like to do?” she asked.

  He thought for a moment. “You know,” he said, “we have not had a true American date yet. How about lunch and a movie? Normally it would be dinner and a movie, but our evening is already booked up.”

  Her eyes widened. “You know, I watch some films on my computer or TV at home,” she said, “but I have not been to the cinema in ages! There is a theater not far from here that shows American hits. Let’s go!”

  They paused at a sidewalk café for a quick lunch and made it to the theater by 1 PM, just a few moments before the feature started. The movie was The Avengers, which Josh had seen when it came out the previous year. He loved the big-screen comic book characters, although Isabella was a bit confused by the plot at first. After a half hour or so, however, she was able to follow
it well enough to quit asking him who was who and simply enjoy the film. They stuffed themselves with popcorn and soft drinks, and applauded at the end, when the credits began to roll. Josh made sure they stayed until the little teaser popped up after the credits, and then walked her out onto the street.

  “Now, I have never been on an American-style date before,” she said. “But is it not traditional to now park our car in an isolated location and make out?”

  Josh blushed. “You are right about that,” he said, “but it is broad daylight, and that takes all the fun out of it. However, I do have something to make up for the loss a bit.”

  “What is that?” she asked.

  He dropped to one knee in the middle of the sidewalk and pulled a small box out of his pocket. “Isabella Sforza,” he said, “will you marry me?”

  She stared in disbelief at the beautiful gold ring with its gleaming diamond solitaire. “Where—how?” she asked.

  “The ring?” Josh said. “It was my grandmother’s. My mom actually brought it over from the States when she saw that I finally had a girlfriend. Dad thought that she was being hopelessly optimistic, but you should have seen his face when I asked her for it this morning.”

  She took him by the hands and lifted him from his knees. “You know that I have not yet believed in your God the way you want me to,” she said, looking into his eyes.

  He nodded. “I have prayed about this since I met you,” he said, “and God has given me peace about it. You will find your way to Him in your own time, and I will be there to rejoice in the moment. But something told me that today was the day I should ask you. So, how about it? Will you be Mrs. Parker?”

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him enthusiastically. “Yes!” she said gleefully. “A thousand times yes! Oh, Josh, I am so glad that God brought you into my life! You have given me more joy than I thought I would ever feel again!”

  They kissed again, and the small crowd of onlookers that had paused to take in the moment began to applaud. Josh looked at them and grinned. “THIS WOMAN IS GOING TO BE MY WIFE!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. Isabella elbowed him in the ribs, but the onlookers applauded even louder. The two of them collapsed in laughter, and then caught a cab back to the museum.

  * * *

  Ibrahim Abbasside had been a busy man. In the last forty-eight hours, he had met with both his cell leaders, purchased a swift automobile, and monitored the communications coming from the museum and the police department. Everything looked to be in order. The convoy escorting the scroll would leave the museum that evening, and his men would be waiting to intercept it. The escort was heavy, but not heavy enough. His men had two RPGs with multiple rounds of ammunition, and a SAM launcher. He decided to let the convoy cover just over half the distance to Rome—far enough down the road to lull them into a false sense of security—before striking. The first round would knock the helicopter out of the sky, while the RPG would cripple the lead vehicle. The jihadists would lay down a withering fire, killing as many of the escorting soldiers and policemen in the opening moments of the ambush as they could. As for Abbasside, he would be trailing the convoy in his sports car, armed with two pistols, a fifty-caliber sniper rifle with a tripod, and his pocket torch. He would take out the remainder of the convoy from the rear as they tried to withdraw from the ambush, and block their escape. He had already donned a Kevlar vest, and had the helmet in the floorboard of his auto. He was not averse to giving his life in glorious jihad against the infidel, but he did not want a stray round bringing him down before he completed his mission.

  He had rented a small apartment overlooking the front of the museum from a few blocks away, and would be waiting and watching as the convoy departed. Since he knew their route from intercepted communications, he did even not have to tail them visibly. He could take his time, slowly bringing up the rear, not even getting them in view until they were well away from Naples. All he had to do was keep their distant tail lights in his sights intermittently, to make sure they did not deviate from the planned route.

  On the seat next to him was a laptop computer, plugged into his email. The sheer bulk of communications coming from the museum was pretty overwhelming, but he had isolated the numbers that had most to do with planning the convoy and checked those intercepts every few hours. The Spider had been as good as his word. He would take the laptop with him when he left the dingy little apartment that evening, so that he could monitor any further communications.

  As the time for his afternoon prayers approached, he unrolled his ornately inscribed rug and knelt, touching his nose to the ground three times as Islamic tradition required, and then mouthed the ancient words of the Quran. He could feel the righteousness of his cause in every word that he spoke, and knew that Allah was merciful. He would not suffer his faithful servant to fail.

  * * *

  Joshua and Isabella got back to the museum a little later than they had planned. There was a small knot of reporters near the entrance, no doubt there to cover the convoy’s departure, which had been judiciously leaked by the police department.

  “Dr. Parker!” shouted an English journalist. “Will you and Dr. Sforza be accompanying the scroll when it leaves the museum?”

  Josh paused. “We have been asked to remain here until tomorrow morning,” he said, “when we will catch a helicopter flight to Rome. Several artifacts we’ve recovered from the ruins of the lab are in precarious condition, and Isabella and I will be working most of the night trying to stabilize them. Two-thousand-year-old papyri and high explosives are a bad combination!”

  The American correspondent Cynthia Brown cut in. “Dr. Parker, are you worried about what the carbon dating of the Testimonium might reveal?”

  Josh flashed a huge smile at them. “Not in the least!” he said. “I was there when the scroll was found, and there is not a shred of doubt in my mind that the testing will confirm its authenticity. I feel kind of sorry for the skeptics who are trying so hard to debunk this find, if you want to know the truth. Once these tests are done, they will not have a leg to stand on.”

  One of the reporters had a cell phone jammed to his ear, and he put it down long enough to call out his question. “Dr. Parker, what is this I am hearing about a scene outside a nearby movie theater moments ago?” he asked.

  “You guys don’t miss a beat, do you?” Josh said. “All right, then, if you must know, I have asked Dr. Sforza here to become my wife, and she has accepted!” He held up her hand to the reporters, showing off his grandmother’s engagement ring. The journalists gave the two a good-natured round of applause.

  “No more questions!” Isabella shouted as the two of them turned and darted into the museum.

  Castolfo and MacDonald were waiting for them in the lab. “A bit late, aren’t we?” asked the Bureau’s president.

  Josh grinned ruefully. “Sorry, sir,” he said. “We lost track of time, and then got ambushed by the press at the door. We stuck to our cover story, though, and gave them something else to talk about!”

  MacDonald suddenly spotted the gleaming diamond on Isabella’s finger. “By God!” he said. “You actually did it! Congratulations, laddie! And you too, my girl!”

  Castolfo took in the ring and Isabella’s radiant face. His stern expression broke into a huge grin. “How delightful!” he said. “Congratulations to you both! Now, Parker, you are going to have to come and live here in Italy. I do not want to lose this valued member of our profession to some backwater Indian excavation on the American frontier!”

  Isabella wrinkled her nose at him. “And what if I told you it was my career ambition to excavate Clovis sites in Oklahoma?” she asked.

  “I would know you were lying!” said Castolfo. “But I wish you both the very best wherever you settle. I just don’t want to lose you. There are not enough women in archeology as it is, and you have become an inspiration to all the girls in Italy!”

  “Joshua, I realize that we come from different churches, but if you did want
to have some wee input from across the denominational aisle, I would be honored to have a part in the service,” said Father MacDonald.

  “I would not dream of a wedding without you in it!” said Isabella.

  “I think you and my dad could do a great service together,” said Josh.

  They chatted for a few moments, and then Castolfo answered the phone and spoke softly for a few moments. When he hung up, he faced the group with a stern face. “Well, our escort is here!” he said. “It won’t be dark for a while yet, but perhaps you would like to go introduce yourselves?”

  The three team members followed him and Guioccini to the entrance of the museum. Two large APCs were pulled up to the curb with an armored car in between them, and three police cars bringing up the rear. All of them were parked in front of the museum, drawing quite a curious crowd of onlookers. An Italian officer stepped to the front, and Josh recognized him immediately. It was Guillermo Rossini!

  “We meet again, Dr. Parker!” said the Giuseppe’s son. “It is good to see you!”

  “I am glad to see you again, too!” said Josh. “Now I know that Father MacDonald and the scroll will be safe.”

  Major Rossini nodded. “And I am delighted to get a crack at the animals that murdered my father,” he said. “If they touch this convoy, it will be the last thing they ever do!”

  Castolfo looked skyward, and Rossini laughed. “Our air support is coming, don’t worry!” he said. “We won’t be leaving for another hour at least, and they will pick us up right at the edge of the city. This scroll will not have been guarded so well since it had Praetorians protecting it in old Tiberius’ time!”

  A tall police officer in a lavishly decorated uniform stepped forward. “Alessandro Zadora, Police Chief of Naples,” he said, shaking hands with the team members. “My men are most anxious to see you safely to Rome, after the tragic events of last week. Who will actually be carrying and escorting the scroll?”