Carbon-14: The Shroud of Turin (An Amari Johnston Novel)

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Carbon-14: The Shroud of Turin (An Amari Johnston Novel) Page 12

by Williams, R. A.


  “Pete, that’s our guy! I bet he was casing the joint. That’s why he stole the uniform. So he could pose as a priest.”

  “Could be,” Pete said and focused on the imam. “Can you tell me what he looked like? Do you think you could identify him?”

  “He was wearing dark glasses. He had a black hat as well. It had a circular rim as protection from the sun. I could not see his face well.”

  “Anything you got would help. Any distinguishing features? Was he white or black, heavy or thin?”

  “He was Caucasian. Thin. He had a black beard. It was long. It fell to his chest. And he was not very tall.”

  “That’s something,” Pete said. “I’m going to need you to come downtown and describe what you saw to our sketch artist. And by the way, do you have a burglar alarm? A sprinkler system?”

  “No, we do not.”

  “You might want to look into that. In the meantime, double up on the locks. Keep plenty of light on the place. I’ll see what I can do to get a patrolman out here at night. Just until we catch the guy.”

  ****

  Amari watched the class through a window in the door. Pink pig fetuses were splayed open on black countertops as students picked through the formalin soaked guts to learn the pig’s anatomy, which was supposed to be similar to that of a human. She remembered doing this dissection during her freshman year of college. She also remembered using a dissecting microscope to see the tissue up close and that there was a camera attached to it as well. There was no point in getting access to Dr. Rahal’s piece of the Shroud if she couldn’t examine it under a scope, and there was no point in making the examination if she couldn’t capture proof of her discovery on a photograph.

  At 12:50 she heard the muffled voice of Professor Kelley instructing the students. When the students had wrapped their pigs with cellophane so they could continue their examination later, they filed out the door and left Professor Kelley to tidy up the lab before the next class.

  She stepped in and waited for the professor to look up. “Can I help you?” he asked. Although Dr. Kelley was pushing sixty, he had a muscular build with bulging pecs and biceps.

  “I don’t know if you remember me, but I took your class three years ago. My name is Amari Johnston.”

  “Of course, I remember you. You were going to be a detective. I remember you telling me how you looked forward to going to autopsies with the coroner. It was when we were studying the human cadaver.”

  “You remember that?”

  “Most students are repulsed by the idea, but I remember that zeal in your eyes. It made an impression. So what can I do for you?”

  “I’m on a case. I was hoping you could help.”

  “A case? Have you graduated already?”

  “Not exactly, but I’m still investigating something.”

  “I’ll do what I can. You’ll need to make it fast because my next class starts at one.”

  She walked over to the microscope. “I’d like to use your scope to examine something.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. Forensic evidence?”

  “Exactly. I’m sure you’ve heard about the Shroud of Turin.”

  “Of course, I have. They did the carbon date right here on campus.”

  “I know. And they still have a piece of the Shroud over at the WMS lab. If I can talk Dr. Rahal into letting me see it, I’d like to look at it under your scope. You used to be able to hook up a Polaroid camera and take pictures. Can you still do that?”

  “Yes, I can still rig it that way. What do you hope to find?”

  “I’ll cut to the chase. I think the carbon date is wrong. That corner they took the sample from had been handled for nearly 2,000 years. It had to have been damaged at some point, so at some point, there had to have been a repair.”

  “You’re telling me you think they carbon dated a patch?”

  “Exactly.”

  Dr. Kelley lowered himself to his desk chair and laced his fingers, making a steeple out of his index fingers as he thought. “Is this something you read, or is this something you dreamed up yourself?”

  She shrugged apologetically. “I have an active imagination. But I think I may be onto something. The only problem is, Dr. Rahal refuses to let me see it. He’s hiding something. I think he knows it’s been repaired. That’s why he won’t let me see it.”

  Dr. Kelley rubbed at his chin. “That’s a serious accusation.”

  “It’s a serious issue. If I’m right, the whole world is being misled. No matter what you believe about Jesus, you need to know the truth about this.”

  Dr. Kelley bit his lower lip and thought about it. “Well, it’s just a scope. It’s for the students. I don’t have any problem with you using it. In fact, I know someone else who would like a look at the Shroud while you have it in here.”

  “If I get it in here. So far he won’t budge.”

  “Well, if you get to look at it, I know Dr. Eastman from microbiology would like to look at it too. He has his own theory as to how the carbon date could be invalid.”

  “Oh really? What’s his take?”

  “He told me he thinks bacteria can create a bioplastic coating. He says bacteria can deposit new layers of younger material that can cause a carbon date to read younger. In fact, this has been shown to be the case with mummies from Mayan artifacts.”

  She thought about the prospect. “Makes sense. Maybe it was a patch with bioplastic coating. That’s two reasons the carbon date is wrong. You think Dr. Eastman can reason with Rahal?”

  “I tell you what, if you can hang around till my next class is over, we’ll discuss this with Dr. Eastman together.”

  ****

  Two days later, Amari sat in Dr. Judith Schmidt’s office. She was the Dean of the College of Science. Dr. Eastman had been intrigued by the prospect of examining the Shroud. He’d placed a phone call to Dr. Rahal and asked to see it. Unfortunately, Dr. Rahal wouldn’t budge, not even at the request of a microbiology professor. He left Amari no choice. She had to go over his head.

  It didn’t take a detective to surmise that Dr. Schmidt was not impressed. Puffy, crescent shaped bags were under her eyes. She glared at Amari with weary disdain. “The only reason you are in my office now is because my secretary is a devout Catholic. She didn’t ask me if I would see you, she simply put you on my appointment list. I would reprimand her, but I’m afraid she would quit and I’d be lost without her. So I’ve seen you now, I’ve heard your pitch, and now you may leave.”

  Amari arched her back and her mouth fell open. “So I take that as a no.”

  “Yes, that is a no. You need to learn your limits, young lady. Students don’t barge into the dean’s office and demand to see anything.”

  “I didn’t demand, Dr. Schmidt, I stated my case and asked you nicely.”

  “Your case?” she said with a mix of anger and amusement. “What do you think, you’re in the FBI? You’re just a silly undergrad with delusions of grandeur. You’re not a scientist. You’re not a historian. You’re just an arrogant young woman who thinks she can bully this university into handing over a priceless relic of medieval history. That sample of the Shroud will stay locked in Dr. Rahal’s office, do you understand me? Now, if you don’t mind, I really am a busy woman.”

  Amari stood and folded her arms defiantly.

  “I said you can leave now,” Dr. Schmidt said and pointed at the door.

  “Ooookay, then,” Amari said and paced toward the door. “Thank you for your time.” Before she left, she turned back to Dr. Schmidt. “This isn’t over, just so you know.”

  Chapter 20

  In 1891, class began for the first time at the University of Arizona with thirty-two students in the Old Main building, a two-story red brick structure with a covered porch encircling the entire building on the second floor. It had an old west, historic feel to it. Old Main stood in the heart of campus with a fountain on the west side and a palm tree-lined grass mall on the east. It was the perfect place for Am
ari to post her first petition.

  The petition read:

  Nearly all scientific evidence gathered to date suggests that the Shroud of Turin came from the period and location of the crucifixion of Christ in A.D. 33, and all evidence on the Shroud corresponds with the events recorded in the New Testament. The only evidence that suggests otherwise is the carbon date performed at the WMS laboratory here on campus and two additional laboratories in Europe. Please sign this petition to allow further study of the remaining piece of the Shroud that is kept locked away at the WMS laboratory. There is reason to believe that the portion used for dating the Shroud of Turin in all three locations was repaired during the 16th century and is contaminated with newer fibers, making the carbon date invalid. Please encourage Dr. Rahal to release this section of the Shroud for further study. Sign this petition so the world can know the truth.

  She placed the second copy of the petition on the front door of the Administration Building, the third was stuck to the main library’s bulletin board, the fourth copy was on the bulletin board at the student union memorial center, and the fifth copy of the petition went on the front door of the WMS laboratory.

  ****

  Amari had just left her art history class and walked down the sidewalk toward the WMS laboratory. No, she wasn’t going inside. Kevin was coming out to meet her instead. It was his lunch hour and he wanted to spend it with her. That’s right, this time he had asked her out.

  As she approached the lab’s entrance, Jeremy came out. His bright blue eyes flashed surprise.

  “Hey, Jeremy,” she said. “I promise, I’m not going in.”

  “No,” Jeremy said, clearly alarmed at Amari’s presence. “I don’t think I would do that.”

  “Hey, tell your grandfather thanks for standing up for me. He seems very nice. You’re lucky to have him.”

  “He’s a great man,” Jeremy said.

  Amari smiled playfully. “So did you sign my petition?”

  Jeremy wasn’t laughing. “Can I give you some advice?”

  “Sure, I like advice. Can’t promise I’ll take it, but I’ll listen.”

  “You need to be careful with Dr. Rahal. I don’t trust him.”

  “I don’t either. He seriously needs to take a chill-pill.”

  “Amari, I’m not kidding. And neither should you. Rahal can be dangerous.”

  “What do you mean by dangerous? You mean he might get Kevin fired?”

  “No, worse than that.”

  “What’s he going to do? Kill me?”

  “He’s changed, Amari. Ever since we tested the Shroud, he seems to have gotten worse.”

  “What do you mean, worse?”

  “Much angrier. More defensive. Like this is personal to him.” Jeremy stepped a little closer and looked over his shoulder to be certain nobody was listening. “Did you notice how he accused you of being a fanatic?”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “Well, it takes one to know one. He’s a Muslim, you know. He’s the fanatic, not you. You’re a threat to his faith. That’s why he got so mad. I mean, think about it. If the Shroud is authentic, then where does that leave him? There is no way he is going to let you examine his piece of the Shroud. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t destroyed it, just in case you’re right.”

  “He doesn’t seem like a very religious man to me. Just a jerk.”

  “Just be careful,” Jeremy said in a fearful voice. “Don’t push him too far.”

  “Wow, thanks for the heads up. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You should,” Jeremy said and walked away without another word.

  Amari stood there stunned, pondering what just happened. He seemed really concerned for her. Was Rahal that dangerous? A man in his position? Maybe there was a link between Rahal and the murder of that priest after all. Maybe her dad should investigate him. She’d have to remember and tell him about Jeremy’s warning.

  Just then, Kevin came out and met her. “Hey, Amari. So where we going today?”

  “That was weird.”

  “What was weird?”

  “Jeremy just warned me to be careful with Dr. Rahal. He said he could be dangerous.”

  “I don’t know, Amari. He has been acting kind of weird lately. Maybe it’s just midlife crisis.”

  “He’s kind of old for midlife crisis, don’t you think?”

  “Not if he lives to be a hundred. Come on, let’s try that new deli down the street. I’ll drive.”

  ****

  Two days later, when Amari had gotten out of her eleven o’clock art history class, she found herself waiting outside Kevin’s lab again. Only this time she was buying lunch. Friends usually go Dutch, or in this case, maybe they could just alternate who pays.

  Kevin rushed out of the lab. “Rahal’s wigging out. We better book-it before he sees us,” he said with a mischievous grin.

  “What’s he mad about this time?” she asked as she walked briskly beside him.

  “Who knows? He was just yelling at someone on the phone when I went by his office. I didn’t stick around to find out.”

  When they crossed the street, he slowed his pace. “I think we’re safe now.”

  “That guy is such a spaz,” she said.

  “Big time. Lately, he wigs out over the smallest thing.”

  “It’s actually kind of funny.”

  “I know,” he said with that cute little smirk of his. “He’s like a hornet’s nest you just can’t help but poke.”

  They kept walking, kept talking, kept joking about Rahal as they made their way toward the café inside the student center. They always had such fun together. If he had any intimate feelings for her, he didn’t show it. Still, she hadn’t known him very long. Love wasn’t something that happened overnight. Then again, she was a Christian and his odd beliefs would only cause problems in the future. Logic said they should stay friends. Her faith came first. But what if God had drawn them together for some reason? Maybe she was supposed to lead him to Christ. She just needed to be patient and see where the Lord was leading her.

  They strolled easily on the sidewalk between the Old Main building and the long, palm tree-lined lawn. Amari dodged a student who wasn’t watching where he was going. Her hand brushed against Kevin’s. She held it there for a second to see what he would do. He used that hand to scratch an itch on his stomach and moved a step away. Nope, nothing there. Not yet, anyway.

  They bought lunch from a sandwich shop named Ray’s and sat outside in the shade, enjoying the cool, dry air of a city that stayed a sunny sixty-five during November. “What did Rahal say when he found the petition?” she asked.

  “He didn’t find it, Jerry did.”

  “Ah, so Rahal never saw it?”

  “Not that I know of. Jerry gave it to me and said that wasn’t a good idea. He’s afraid Rahal will try to get me fired.”

  “You’re right, Kevin, I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t think about pissing him off and him taking it out on you. But you said Professor Weiss had your back, right?”

  “I hope so. So where else did you put the petitions?”

  “I put the first one on the front doors of Old Main.”

  “Symbolic. It’s where all this started.”

  “You read my mind. That’s exactly why I did it. The second one went on the front door of the administrative building.”

  “Are you supposed to do that? I bet they took it down too.”

  “They did. It was just another symbolic act.”

  “I hope they don’t symbolically expel you for that.”

  “It’s free speech. The most they would do is warn me. Besides, I never put my name on it.”

  “Smart. So where else?”

  “One on the bulletin board at the library and another at the bulletin board here at the student center.”

  “Let’s check on it after lunch. You might need to add more paper to it.”

  After they had eaten, they went over to the bulletin board at the
student center. Sure enough, the page was filled with signatures, every line. She pulled the push-pin and flipped it around. Several signatures were on the back. Below the signatures was a hand-written note. Someone from the Campus Crusade for Christ was offering the ministry’s services if she needed help getting the word out.

  “This is perfect,” she said. “Look, even the Campus Crusade for Christ wants to help. I’ll call them later today.”

  “How come you didn’t tell me you were doing this?”

  “Because I wanted you to be able to look Rahal in the face and tell him you knew nothing about it—without lying. This is all on me. I don’t want you getting in trouble.”

  “Yeah, that might be a good idea. I don’t mind helping, but we better keep it on the down low, if you know what I mean.”

  “That’s right. You stay out of it. As far as they’re concerned, this is my fight.”

  And Amari was far from surrender. She never told him about going to the dean’s office either. And he certainly didn’t know what she was about to do if Rahal didn’t cave because of the petitions. But he would soon find out. Everyone on campus would soon find out.

  Chapter 21

  Ms. Embry set down her novel and lowered the reading glasses to her nose. “It’s you again.”

  “Hey, Ms. Embry,” Amari said. “I’m back.”

  “If you’re here for Dr. Rahal, he’s in a meeting. At any rate, he doesn’t want to see you. And I think your boyfriend is talking with a client, but you can wait if you like,” she said and pointed to a chair.

  “Boyfriend? You mean Dr. Brenner?”

  “He’s a cutie. And so sweet. You’re lucky to have him.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just . . . regular friends.”

  Ms. Embry pulled her glasses off her nose and let them hang by the beaded cord around her neck. “Honey, I’m seventy-two years old. I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve seen you two together. I’ve seen how you look at him and how he looks at you. He’s your boyfriend.”

 

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