45
JACK HORNBY WAS FOLLOWING UP A LEAD. He knew there had been a meeting recently, near the OPEC headquarters in Vienna. In attendance at the meeting had been the top Muslim clerics from each of the OPEC nations.
Hornby knew there was no official tie-in between Islam and the OPEC oil cartel. Yet there had always been a lurking suspicion that the original driving force behind OPEC was the desire to protect and preserve the most potent economic weapon that Islam had—the thick, black liquid that lay like a treasure trove, beneath the sands of the nations of the Middle East.
OPEC had been created in 1960 by a conference of Islamic nations that had met in Baghdad. Among the original five members, the only nation not overtly controlled by Islam was Venezuela. But even it had strong Islamic sympathies and had regularly appointed Muslim delegates to the OPEC conferences.
With the council of Islamic clerics meeting in Vienna at the same time as the annual meeting of OPEC, Hornby had begun to see a pattern emerging.
Then he had received a call from someone in the U.S. who had a relative in Vienna. According to Hornby’s source, American billionaire Warren Mullburn had met with the Islamic clerics at a lavish villa just outside Vienna—at the same time the OPEC conference was going on.
Having already been alerted to Mullburn’s suspicious connections, Hornby was now hot on the trail. He pulled every public speech, article, and book authored by Warren Mullburn.
After keyword-searching for “Islam, Christianity, Mullburn” on the Net, Hornby noticed the numerous times that Mullburn had made favorable mention of Islam and had advocated a merger of some type between the two religions. Was Mullburn’s motivation just part of his eccentric philosophical meanderings? Or was his entrée into the Islam-OPEC connection a matter of brute economics? Or was it perhaps some combination of the two?
Hornby called Will Chambers to exchange information and get an update on the Reichstad lawsuit.
“Guess what I just finished doing,” Will said after he had been greeted by the reporter.
“I’m bad at guessing games,” Hornby replied.
“I thought you were the guy who was always running with ‘hunches.’”
“I believe in hunches. That’s different. What’d you come up with?”
“Well—but first I need to give you some background details. And these need to stay under wraps, unless and until the case goes to trial.”
“You know my reputation. I only blow the lid at the right time—and on the right people.”
“Okay,” Will replied. He went on to recount MacCameron’s meeting with Dr. Hunter in Jerusalem. And how and why MacCameron had become suspicious of the deaths of Hunter and Azid. Lastly, Will explained his client’s theories about Reichstad’s connection with the two dead men and the fragment that seemed so similar to 7QA.
“So what you’re saying,” concluded Hornby, “is that Reichstad must have come into possession of Hunter’s fragment by some skullduggery—is that the case?”
“You’re right on track.”
“So—you’re going to have your client testify at trial that Hunter gave him a description of the fragment that was identical to what’s now known as the 7QA fragment—and if the jury believes your guy, you just might have ballpark triple on that issue. Okay, I see a story coming.”
“Wait a minute—how are you going to get this in print?” Will questioned. “Your newspaper’s in Mullburn’s pocket now.”
“Watch me,” Hornby responded.
“Well, and Mr. Billionaire brings me to the punch-line. I did a computer check on the Israeli newspapers during the week of Reichstad’s New Testament antiquities conference in Jerusalem,” Will explained. “I pulled up a little blurb in the Jerusalem Post. Guess who was in town that week? Our Mr. Mullburn—on ‘business.’ The same week as Reichstad was there—the same week that Azid and Hunter show up dead. And shortly thereafter, Reichstad trumpets to the world that he has the 7QA—received from Azid shortly before his ‘suicide.’”
“Then lo and behold—7QA spells doom to the story of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. And that is just swell to the Muslims—because calling Jesus the Son of God is blasphemy to them,” Hornby added.
“So, what is it that you have for me?” Will asked.
“Well, speaking of Islam,” Hornby went on, “I just learned that Mullburn was in on some supersecret meeting of the head Muslim clerics of the OPEC nations, in Vienna. That meeting was just before the formal OPEC meeting—also in Vienna. My hunch is that Mullburn is trying to convince the Muslims that the U.S. is Allah-friendly. In return for some ‘cultural reconciliation,’ to borrow one of Kenneth Sharptin’s favorite phrases, Mullburn is trying to get himself appointed to this new American chair at the OPEC meetings.”
“Well, in light of his campaign contributions for Sharptin, that certainly smells illegal.”
“Of course,” Hornby noted, “so Mullburn will get someone who is beholden to him—the guy owns everybody—to hold that seat at OPEC and to be his stoolie. Mullburn would have insider information on oil production and prices way before the rest of the world. It would be a goldmine for him.”
“The Arabs will give all of that power to Mullburn for the price of a little religious compromise by the U.S.?” Will said skeptically.
“Well,” Hornby laughed, “that, plus some advanced military secrets and real heavy duty weaponry—compliments of the United States government!”
“What does Undersecretary Sharptin get out of all this—assuming there is some kind of—I hesitate to use the word…”
“Use it. It won’t hurt,” Hornby broke in sarcastically.
“Okay. Conspiracy.”
“What does Sharptin get out of all this? Why he gets a little card that says, ‘Go straight to White House as vice president—don’t stop at go.’ Sharptin will have bought for the U.S. the perception of oil security and lower gas prices. He’s already got the Arab nations looking like they are driving the terrorists into the sea. Helping America feel safe and secure in a new partnership for peace. No more Wall Street bombings. No more trucks with nuclear warheads. That makes Sharptin a valuable commodity to the President—because the current White House popularity ratings stink like a dead skunk.”
“Does this all make sense?” Will asked, a little mind-boggled by the size of what he was hearing.
“I love baseball,” Hornby said. “Yes, I do love baseball. And the real thing of beauty, in my book at least, is a gracefully executed triple play. Where those big two-hundred-twenty-pound athletes are gliding in the air, leaping, catching, bulleting that ball to the next guy all in one movement—like a ballet in the dust. How I do love to see a good triple play.”
Will Chambers was waiting for the point.
“So here we have the chance to make a triple play. Reichstad is at first base: He gets money, fame, and fortune through the discovery of 7QA. Only he needs Mullburn, Mullburn is behind this somehow with his funding and his influence—and maybe even something more than that.
“Undersecretary Sharptin is at second base. He uses the 7QA discovery to plow the old-time Christian religion into the ground and create some ‘feel-good’ reconciliation with Islam; in return, the Arab nations appear to help the old U.S. of A. keep everybody safe from terrorism—and also keep everybody driving with cheaper gas. A huge arms deal to the Arabs through Sharptin’s arm-twisting is the deal-sweetener. And Sharptin gets into the White House for his good sportsmanship and fancy footwork.”
“And Mullburn is at third base?” Will asked.
“Right. He gets the inside OPEC track to more oil—and at the same time can lay claim to having fulfilled his own megalomania by creating a new religious merger—Islam and Christianity—mixed with some of Mullburn’s own brand of evolutionary theology.”
“Hornby, you are a conspiratorialist! I never would have guessed it.”
“No, to the contrary,” Hornby replied. “I just know a good story when I see it. But there is one lit
tle problem with all this.”
“What’s that?” Will inquired.
“We don’t have a speck of clear proof that this science fiction story is really true. Without a smoking gun we’ve got no ball game. Now, aren’t you going to be taking Reichstad’s deposition soon?”
“In two days,” Will said.
“Why not start testing our conspiracy theory by asking some pointed questions at the deposition?”
“No, I can’t afford to let him know what we are thinking,” Will responded. “If I can prove it—I will spring it on them at trial. If not, I can’t let our theory see the light of day.”
“Let me know how the deposition goes,” Hornby said, and then hung up.
Will went back to his preparation for Reichstad’s deposition. He knew that when he questioned Reichstad he would be walking the razor’s edge—trying to gain the maximum amount of information, but trying not to tip off his opponents to the fact that he might have discovered a conspiracy so outrageous that it looked almost capable of consuming the truth itself—almost—but not quite.
46
ANGUS MACCAMERON HAD SAID HE COULD MEET with Will as soon as Fiona was off tour. She could relieve him in caring for his cancer-stricken wife.
When MacCameron arrived at Will’s office a day before Dr. Riechstad’s deposition, he was carrying a thin book in his hand.
“I thought I had given you everything that Reichstad ever wrote,” MacCameron explained, “but I forgot to give you this one.”
“What is it?” Will inquired as he grabbed his notepad and sat down at the table in his office, across from his client.
“A book that Reichstad authored about ten years ago. I think it’s out of print now.”
Will looked at the title: A New Quest for Jesus.
“Anything helpful in it?”
MacCameron shook his head and said, “I honestly don’t know. I have been a little tired lately, and with Helen not doing well, I just have not had a chance to look at it.”
MacCameron was pale and looked weary, so Will decided to cut the meeting short.
The two of them reviewed the areas of questioning Will had planned for Reichstad’s deposition.
Next, they discussed the Summary Judgment motion that Sherman had filed. Will had prepared an affidavit for MacCameron to sign, explaining his version of the facts, and why his accusations against Reichstad in his magazine were well-founded.
Will gave a copy of the rough draft of the affidavit to MacCameron so he could take it with him and read it over.
“Check closely for any inaccuracies,” Will advised him. “If you sign this thing, and then you say something different at trial, you are in real trouble. Also, see if I have left anything out that you think is important.”
“When can we look at the 7QA fragment?” MacCameron asked.
“I called the court clerk yesterday, and Judge Kaye signed the order requiring them to produce it to us according to the terms that Sherman had demanded. I called Sherman’s office, but he is still in trial in New York. But don’t worry. I will put a formal demand on record at the deposition. Today is Thursday. I see no reason we can’t have it by next Monday.”
“Good,” MacCameron said, his face lighting up. “Now that we know that Hunter said ‘fragments’ in his message, I am even more convinced that when we get a look at 7QA we are going to see evidence that it was originally part of a bigger piece. Azid probably cut it into pieces. He was going to sell the fragments piecemeal and drive up the price.”
“Have you got any further ideas on where the other pieces might be? Or how many there are?” Will asked.
“Hunter’s message said he was sending the ‘fragments’ separately. I think at first, Azid gave only one piece to Hunter. Probably the 7QA fragment first, to see how much Hunter thought the British Museum might be willing to pay. I don’t think Azid had any idea how valuable it was going to be. But I know Azid knew a little about Koine Greek—and I think he probably recognized the name ‘Jesus’ in the Greek. That’s why he cut up the document and gave 7QA to Hunter first.”
“What do you think Hunter’s conclusions were?”
“I’m sure Hunter probably reached the same conclusion that Reichstad later did. Except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“When Hunter met with me at the Between the Arches Café in Jerusalem, at first he was talking as if there was one fragment that he had obtained from Azid. But later in the conversation, it started sounding like he was talking about several fragments. You have to remember, Hunter was very cryptic about all of this—he looked like he was under intense pressure.”
“What do you think happened?”
“I believe that Azid cut the larger fragment into two, perhaps three pieces. He first showed the fragment that had the word ‘Jesus’ to Hunter because he knew that would create great excitement.”
“So Hunter evaluates that piece—the one you think is 7QA, the piece that Reichstad later obtained?”
“Precisely,” MacCameron replied.
“And Hunter looks at the 7QA piece,” Will continued, “says to himself, this is first-century writing, and rushes back to Azid and demands to know the whole story behind it. And so Azid says, ‘I’ve got these other fragments that belong to the same piece.’”
“Yes, that’s what I think happened,” MacCameron replied. “Azid shows Hunter that he has the other pieces. Hunter informs Azid that when he puts the whole puzzle together he will be able to secure a huge amount of money from the British Museum. I can only presume that Richard collected all of the pieces from Azid—because he mentioned ‘the fragments’ in his message.”
“That means that the only people who knew of the existence of the other fragment pieces were Azid, of course, and Hunter.”
“And someone else: Those responsible for killing them both,” MacCameron added.
“Did Hunter mention other reasons why he felt that Azid’s death was not a suicide? All we know is that there was no motive—no depression or despondency—and no suicide note.”
“No, nothing else really. Hunter did say that the Israeli police had been at the scene also, but he said nothing about their observations.”
“So if Hunter had all the pieces…Okay, the killers go to Azid first. He doesn’t have anything. Then they kill him. But why?”
The two were silent. Then Will answered his own question.
“Whoever did the killing didn’t do it just to sell the fragments on the black market. It wasn’t just for profit—they wanted to be able to lay claim to them in front of the entire world. Therefore they couldn’t afford to have any witnesses. Azid’s death had to look like suicide—because Reichstad knew that he would have to eventually explain where he got the 7QA fragment—and that meant having to tie the fragment back to Azid. An allegation that he was murdered would cast suspicion on Reichstad.”
“Why didn’t Azid simply refuse to tell them anything?” MacCameron asked.
Will smiled at his client’s naivete.
“He probably did—at first. But I have a feeling that someone used very strong persuasion to get him to talk before they killed him.” Then Will had a thought—and wrote down “Israeli Police” to remind himself to call Tiny.
“You mean they tortured him before they killed him?” MacCameron asked.
“Yes, I would say that is likely.”
“Why wouldn’t the police be able to detect that when they looked over Azid’s body?” MacCameron wondered.
“There are ways to torture someone, I think, where it’s not so obvious.”
“Poor Azid. And Richard. Such a waste of life. Such a terrible thing,” MacCameron commented sadly.
Will got up and stretched. Then he said, “You have no idea where those other fragments are. And Reichstad either doesn’t know—or he does, but he won’t admit it. So how in the world are we going to find out where they are? That is the ultimate proof we need in this case.”
“I called London a
nd spoke to Richard’s sister, with whom he had been living. She didn’t know where the other fragments might be. I called the British Museum and asked about his papers and effects. They said they had gone through everything in his office—a matter of routine inventory of his projects—but they didn’t find anything either.”
“So,” Will said, “that only leaves us with Hunter’s riddle.” With that, Will glanced at his notes. He recited the message:
So if you ever have to put the picture together, just remember this the next time you come to the halls of the British Museum. Remember your Bible…Remember the resurrection order.
“I know those fragments are somewhere at the British Museum,” MacCameron mused. “They have to be. I just don’t know where to start.”
“And if you were to find them—what if they substantiate Reichstad’s claims that 7QA is proof that Jesus never rose from the grave. Then what?” Will asked his client.
“They won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because,” MacCameron said with a smile, “I know that my Redeemer liveth!”
“How can you be so sure?” Will probed. “I’ve looked at the evidence while I’ve been preparing this case. While I can’t understand it scientifically, I can see the evidence historically and logically. As a trial lawyer, I concede there’s a persuasive case for the credibility of the Gospel accounts of the resurrection. But that doesn’t push me over the line into faith.”
“That’s because,” MacCameron noted with a smile, “reason can never ‘push’ you over the line into faith. It can bring you up to the bar, but it can’t propel you over. That is the job of something else—something much different indeed.”
“And what would that be?”
“The human will. Faith is like a muscle, exercised by an act—not just of reason, but of the will. God draws people to himself by his inscrutable and divine election—but at the same time you must be willing to exercise that muscle of faith yourself. You must take the first step of faith not because your sense of logic compels you, but because you have willed. God wants you to meet him, through his Son, Jesus Christ. He calls you. He woos you. He even chases and pursues you through a million steps and a million different paths. But he waits now for you to turn in his direction, and merely take that first step.”
The Resurrection File Page 27