The Rozabal Line

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The Rozabal Line Page 20

by Ashwin Sanghi


  Chapter Nineteen

  Goa, India, 2012

  Vincent and Martha fell instantly in love with Goa. The place was filled with famous churches, including the Se Cathedral, the Church of St Anne at Talaulim llhas, the ruins of the Church of St Augustine, the Reis Magos Church built on the banks of the Mandovi river, the Basilica of Bom Jesus, the St Cajetan Church, the Church of St Paul, the Church of Mary Immaculate Concep-tion, and the Church of St Francis of Assissi.

  Vincent was pained to note that Goa’s magnificent temples of Christianity were pretty much a legacy of ruthless Portuguese colonisation. Christianity had been forced upon the local population with religious zeal by the Portuguese, particularly during the Inquisition. This had involved a massive pogrom to destroy Muslim mosques and Hindu temples and had continued till the end of the Inquisition in 1812. Unfortunately, many of Goa’s beautiful churches had been built on sites of former temples and mosques. The lands had been forcibly taken over by the Church.

  Which wasn’t surprising, thought Vincent. After all, Pope Leo X had said to King Manoel of Portugal in 1515, ‘Receive this warlike sword in your always victorious and warlike hands . . . use your force, strength, and power against the fury of the infidels!’146

  The first step Vincent and Martha decided to take was to attempt to decipher the document handed over by Terry to Vincent. The document said:

  It is enough, O Lord, it is enough, the two angels said. Mastrilli, without doubt, made the best silver bed. But to carefully guard a secret of the dead, Ignatius’s gold cup is better than a silver bed. The city is located between 15°48’ and 14°53’54’ north and between 74°20’ and 73°40’ east.

  The problem lay in the latitude and longitude provided. It covered almost the whole of Goa. Hence this could mean almost any church in Goa.

  Then it struck Vincent! The envelope in which Terry had handed over the documents to him had the words ‘Bom Jesus’ scrawled on it by Terry. Furthermore, the Church of Bom Jesus contained the tomb of the Spanish missionary, Saint Francis Xavier. It was claimed that the body remained in a permanent state of preservation within a silver casket constructed by Mastrilli. The reference to Mastrilli meant that the document they were searching for must have been stored in the Basilica of Bom Jesus. They needed to get to the Basilica immediately.

  It was past 9 pm when Vincent and Martha arrived at the Basilica. The church was located in old Goa, which had been largely abandoned after the fall of Portuguese rule. All that remained were a few churches, a monastery and a convent. In the quiet of the night, they made their way inside the church. In the dim candlelight they together gasped at the beauty of the gilded altar, the extravagant frescoes and the intricate inlay work.

  To the south of the church stood an airtight glass coffin ensconced in a silver casket designed and executed by a Florentine craftsman of the seventeenth century. The embalmed body of St Francis Xavier lay within. Under the casket was a pair of stone angels holding a message, ‘Satis est, Domine, Satis est!’ Translated, it meant, ‘It is enough, O Lord, it is enough!’

  They began to look beneath the casket. ‘Are you looking for this old parchment?’ the voice resonated. They froze. It was a nun. Her feet shuffled along the marble floor as she walked towards them. ‘You are searching for the documents hidden here by Alphonso de Castro, aren’t you? Here, I have them,’ she said as she threw the document in Vincent’s face.

  It was only when she was right beside him that he noticed the Japanese

  face and felt the cool hardness of the metal nub of a 9-mm pistol pressed against his ribs.

  Martha looked on helplessly as Swakilki led Vincent out of the church

  and into a waiting car. The woman had been quietly firm: ‘One false move and I’ll kill him.’

  After a few minutes of remaining frozen, Martha sprang into action. Swakilki had obviously known that they were after the original of the document handed over by Terry Acton to Vincent. She also had a copy of it in her possession. This meant that someone besides Terry had known of its existence. Moreover, Swakilki had followed them to Goa. There was only one person who had known why Vincent and Martha were in Goa—Thomas Manning! Vincent should never have trusted him!

  This was a bigger conspiracy than they could handle. The local police would be of little help in this. Who could she turn to? Swakilki was a dangerous foe. ‘For heaven’s sake! Who can help me save Vincent?’ muttered Martha under her breath. She then recalled her conversation with Terry Acton a couple of days before his death.

  While it had been a well-known fact that Terry was researching various religions and was deeply involved in past-life therapy, what had generally not been known was that his research was sponsored by the Illuminati. Terry had been convinced that modern-day Christianity, as taught by the Roman Catholic Church, was far removed from the Gnostic spirituality of Christ. The Illuminati had believed that the findings from Terry’s research could possibly neutralise the power of their primary foe—the Roman Catholic Church. Terry had revealed to Martha that his Rhodes Scholarship and Skull & Bones connections had led him to the Illuminati; after all, the origin of Skull & Bones itself lay in the Bavarian Illuminati. And the contact point had been Terry’s close friend from his Yale days—Stephen Elliot.

  Martha remembered Stephen because he had visited Terry in London several times after the death of Terry’s wife, Susan. Stephen had even asked Martha to help pick out a gift from Harrods for his fiancé, Alissa. She needed to get in touch with Elliot. She wondered how Alissa would react to these developments, but she realised that she had very little choice in the matter.

  It was as she was racing towards the church door that she saw the document the nun had flung in Vincent’s face before abducting him. It was lazily stretched out on the cool marble floor, not in the least bit concerned about the chaos that it had just caused.

  New Delhi, India, 2012

  RAW. The name sounded earthy and rough. That’s because it was. RAW stood for ‘Research and Analysis Wing’ and was India’s premier intelligence agency, which had over 12,000 agents operating around the world. The chief of RAW held the rather meek title of ‘Secretary (R)’ in the Cabinet Secretariat, which was part of the Indian Prime Minister’s office. RAW’s primary responsibility was that of gathering external intelligence. This role was complementary to that of its cousin, the Intelligence Bureau, which was responsible for gathering and analysing internal intelligence. The two organisations were meant to jointly report to the National Security Council, headed by the Prime Minister.147

  Secretary (R) General Prithviraj Singh was pondering over the tip-off that he had received from his old friend in the SAS, Stephen Elliot. Prithviraj was among the old-guard elitists within the security apparatus of India. Educated at Eton, with a Ph.D. in mathematics from Yale, the white-moustached, bow-tie wearing, Montecristo-smoking veteran was a gentleman in every sense of the word, except for his intellect, which was razor-sharp.

  As a Yallie, he had excelled in Game Theory. He had delighted himself by not answering exam questions—he would instead write detailed and well-reasoned explanations on why there were inherent flaws in the framing of the questions. His intellectual arrogance had been a source of lively debate on the Yale campus.

  He stared at his friend from Mossad, Zvi Yatom. Yatom had been involved

  in some of the Israeli intelligence agency’s most successful operations. In 1981 he had spearheaded the destruction of Iraq’s Osirak nuclear reactor. Some years later, Yatom had masterminded the assassination of Abu Jihad, Yasser Arafat’s most loyal aide within the Fatah party.148 Zvi had flown down to New Delhi from Tel Aviv to assist Prithviraj in figuring out exactly where the bomb could be headed.

  Prithviraj was now wondering how he should brief the Prime Minister. A priest kidnapped in Goa by an international assassin on behalf of a group called the Crux Decussata Permuta, a group that had already succeeded in bumping off an English professor because of his anti-Church research! A nuclea
r device smuggled into India, a land of 3.28 million square kilometres and a population of 1.02 billion people, with no clear indication of where it was headed! It was like looking for a needle in a haystack!

  He paused outside the Prime Minister’s office door and then knocked twice. ‘Enter!’ came the voice from within. The general sighed, opened the door and walked in along with Zvi. The octogenarian Prime Minister accorded them his trademark smile, the one that had won him the last general election. Behind the smile was a Machiavellian streak that could turn foe into friend, defeat into victory and opposition into dust.

  ‘What was so urgent, General Sahib?’ asked the Prime Minister, using the respectful Indian suffix as he motioned both men to sit.

  ‘Sir, we have reliable information from our American friends that the Lashkar-e-Toiba or a sub-group within the Lashkar has managed to procure a nuclear device, roughly of the capacity used at Hiroshima. The Pakistani and North Korean connection seems quite evident. The reason for the urgency is that this device, according to American intelligence, is already in Indian territory. Unfortunately, we have no indication of whether it is still on Indian soil or whether it is headed to some other destination such as Israel.’ Brief. Concise. Matter-of-fact.

  ‘What are our options?’ asked the octogenarian. Zvi spoke up. ‘It seems that this could be the work of Ghalib, sir. It is likely to be the twelfth attack in a series of attacks that have been happening on the 21st of each month this year, including the attack that India had to cope with in Katra. The key question is, who facilitated such a nuclear transaction with the Pakistanis? Our sources indicate, quite incredibly, the involvement of a fringe Christian group called the Crux Decussata Permuta that is using the nuclear deal as barter for something else.’

  ‘What could that be?’ asked the PM.

  ‘There is one person who could have helped us answer that question. Professor Terry Acton, who obviously knew enough to get taken out by the Crux. According to our friend at the SAS, Stephen Elliot, Terry Acton’s research was shared with a priest, Vincent Sinclair. Unfortunately, he was kidnapped last night in Goa. Efforts are on to locate him, although that’s easier said than done. I need your clearance to deploy one of our four Rapid Action Divisions in order to help me trace him,’ replied Prithviraj.

  ‘You have it,’ came the immediate response, ‘but keep this matter under wraps, gentlemen’.

  ‘We shall be as quiet as the dew!’ retorted Prithviraj, taking a leaf out of Emily Dickinson’s poem as he gently closed the heavy oak door of the PM’s office.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mari, Indo-Pakistan border, 1898

  The British Army was building a watchtower on a hill called Pindi Point when they noticed the old monument. If they had simply asked the locals, they would have been informed that it was a tomb called ‘Mai Mari da Asthan’. The tomb had been placed in Jewish east-west orientation. This ruled out the possibility of the occupant being Muslim. It certainly could not be Hindu, since Hindus cremated their dead.

  Translated, Mai Mari da Asthan meant ‘The Final Resting Place of Mary’. It was from this particular tomb that the place had derived its name, Mari.149 It was believed that when Jesus was on his way from Turkey to Kashmir, his mother, who was around seventy years old at the time, had died in Mari and been buried there.

  This tomb, however, was not in dispute, unlike another one in Kashmir.

  Kashmir, A.D. 1774

  The dispute pertained to an old tomb located in Kashmir. The decree was finally issued by the High Court of Kashmir, under the seal and hand of the Grand Mufti.

  The Seal of the Justice of Islam, Mulla Fazil, 1194 AH. In this High Court of Justice, in the Department of Learning and Piety of the Kingdom.

  Present: Rehman Khan, son of Amir Khan, submits that: the kings, the nobles, the ministers and the multitude come from all directions of the kingdom to pay their homage and offerings in cash and kind at the lofty and the holy shrine of Yuz Asaf, the Prophet, may God bless him.

  Claims: That he is the only and absolute claimant, entitled to receive the offerings and utilise these, and none else has any right whatsoever on these offerings.

  Prays: That a writ of injunction be granted to all those who interfere and that others be restrained from interfering with his rights.

  Verdict: Now this court, after obtaining evidence, concludes as under. It has been established that during the reign of Raja Gopadatta, who built many temples and got repaired especially the Throne of Solomon on the hill of Solomon, Yuz Asaf came to the valley. Prince by descent, he was pious and saintly and had given up earthly pursuits. He spent all his time in prayer and meditation. The people of Kashmir having become idolaters after the great flood of Noah, God Almighty sent Yuz Asaf as a Prophet to the people of Kashmir. He proclaimed oneness of God till he passed away. Yuz Asaf was buried at Kanyar on the banks of the lake, and the shrine is known as Rozabal.

  Orders: Since the shrine is visited by devotees, both high and common, and since the applicant, Rehman Khan, is the hereditary custodian of the shrine, it is ordered that he be entitled to receive the offerings made at the shrine as before, and no one else shall have any right to such offerings. Given under our hand, 11 Jamad-ud-sani, 1184 AH.

  The Throne of Solomon, referred to in the judgment, was more commonly known as the Takhat Sulaiman and had been repaired in A.D. 78.

  Kashmir, A.D. 78

  The Takhat Sulaiman, the Throne of Solomon, was a magnificent temple located on the peak of a hill near the Dal Lake. There were four inscriptions on the structure.

  The first of these inscriptions was, ‘The mason of this pillar is Bihishti Zargar, Year fifty and four.’

  The second inscription was, ‘Khwaja Rukun, son of Murjan erected this pillar.’

  The third inscription was, ‘At this time Yuz Asaf proclaimed his prophethood. Year fifty and four.’150

  And finally, the fourth inscription proclaimed, ‘He is Jesus, Prophet of the Children of Israel.’

  The same Yuz Asaf mentioned by Shaikh Sadiq in his writings.

  Khorasan, Iran, A.D. 962

  Shaikh Sadiq was dying. During his global travels, he had written several books, including Ikmal-ud-Din, in which he had written of the travels of Yuz Asaf:

  Then Yuz Asaf, after roaming about in many cities, reached that country which is called Kashmir. He travelled in it far and wide and stayed there and spent his remaining life there, until death overtook him, and he left the earthly body and was elevated towards the Light.

  Shaikh Sadiq also wrote about some of the parables Yuz Asaf taught:

  When a sower goes forth to sow, some seeds fall by the wayside, and the birds pick up the seeds. Some fall upon stray land, and when the new stems reach the stony foundation they wither away. Some fall among thorns and grow not. But the seed that falls on good land grows and brings forth fruit.

  Strikingly similar to the ‘sower’ parable of Jesus.

  Srinagar, Kashmir, India, 2012

  Barabbas was the name of the charming houseboat on the Dal Lake in Srinagar. It had a delightful cedar-panelled bedroom, with many conveniences of a luxury hotel. The boat had fine furniture, warm Kashmiri carpets, and modern bathroom fittings. It was moored at a location where one had a view of the beautiful lotus gardens of Kashmir. It had a balcony in the front, a lounge, dining room, pantry and three bedrooms with attached bathrooms.

  Srinagar’s thousand-odd houseboats were permanently moored in the Dal and Nagin lakes as well as in the river Jhelum. All houseboats in Srinagar, regardless of category, had highly personalised service. Not only was there a butler on every boat, the manager and his family, too, were never far away.

  The owner of this particular boat was none other than Ghalib. He never stayed on it—he was mostly away travelling; the boat was usually used by his trusted aide and friend, Yehuda Moinuddin. Yehuda was also the junior assistant director of Archives, Archaeology, Research and Museums for Kashmir.

  The owner of th
e boat had twelve ‘children’ scattered around the world. In Urdu, the number twelve was barah and the word for father was abba. This particular owner, Ghalib-bin-Isar, was affectionately called ‘Bara-abba’, the ‘father of twelve’. Who else had twelve disciples?

  Jerusalem, A.D. 27

  Very early in the morning, the chief priests, including Caiaphas, with the elders, the teachers of the law and the whole Sanhedrin, reached a decision. They bound Jesus, led him away and handed him over to Pilate. ‘Are you the king of the Jews?’ asked Pilate.

  ‘Yes, it is as you say,’ Jesus replied.

  The chief priests accused him of many things. So again Pilate asked him, ‘Aren’t you going to answer? See how many things they are accusing you of!’ But Jesus made no reply, and Pilate was amazed. Now, it was the custom at the Feast to release a prisoner the people requested for. The crowd came up and asked Pilate to do for them what he usually did.

  ‘Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?’ asked Pilate, knowing that it was out of envy that the chief priests had handed Jesus over to him.

  And the crowd shouted, ‘Release Jesus Barabbas!’

  Now, among the prisoners awaiting crucifixion that day, there was a man called Barabbas, whose first name was also Jesus. Some scholars believe the crowd was asking for the release of Jesus the prophet, who was also called Bar-abba (Son of the Father), and not the criminal.

 

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