Dead Sea Rising

by Jerry B. Jenkins

  Fear flashed on her face. “I apologize, master! I am thinking only of the child.”

  “You would do well to think of the welfare of your own son.”

  She cradled little Terah in both arms. “My son is all I think of.”

  “Tell her, Ikuppi.”

  “The king’s chief officer has the power to have a servant executed—or slay you himself, without consequence or having to even give cause. Do you not know that?”

  “I know it, sir. I was speaking only for the child I delivered.”

  “Do not talk about me when I am standing right here!” Terah said. “You delivered my son too, and it earns you no privilege. You will speak to me with the deference I deserve, especially from someone of your station.”

  “Yes, my lord. My apologies.”

  “Don’t let it happen again.”

  She nodded. And the baby howled.

  “Can you not quiet the child?”

  “He may be hungry, sir.”

  “Was he not fed before you set out?”

  “He was. But newborns …”

  “I don’t need to hear it, and I don’t care to hear his caterwauling either.”

  Yadidatum rocked the baby and touched a finger to his mouth. His tiny lips locked onto the tip and he sucked. “Do you wish to hold him, master?”

  “I do not.”

  “You wanted only to see him?”

  “I wish to show him to the king.”

  “I don’t understand. What interest would the king have in the child of a servant?”

  “You question me again?”

  “I mean no disrespect, sir. I ask sincerely.”

  “It is not your place to ask. It is your place to do as you are told. And I am telling you to secure yourself and the baby in the chariot for the ride to the palace.”

  CHAPTER 57

  Eleven West

  Mount Sinai Hospital

  Manhattan

  Nicole grew restless, obsessed by even the idea of some mysterious box her mother was so convinced she must find and about which she had promised to confront her father. If it was at her parents’ place, the cops would have already found it and figured a way into it. They knew what she didn’t—whether such a box even existed, and if there was anything to what her mother had said.

  Nicole regretted her decision to ignore the letter from the Saudis, despite how certain she was that it bore bad news. She had to know where she stood, what was still needed to land her dig permit and her ID as lead archaeologist. She hated still being dependent on her father, but she was convinced that if she found in Saudi Arabia what she suspected she might, she could become independently wealthy and evade the nepotism charges she’d faced for so long.

  Of course, personal profit was not her goal and never had been. But that was certainly better than the alternative, and Nicole couldn’t deny she was jealous of those who had become wealthy or celebrated by others in the profession because of what they’d discovered in the ground. She could never pay back her father regardless, and he certainly didn’t need her to. But to become financially autonomous for the first time … well, she could barely conceive of it. The Saudi dig, she feared, was only an impossible dream if her dad didn’t come through with the funds.

  Much as she wanted to prove or disprove her mother’s wee-hours claims, Nicole could not let the Saudi thing rest. If she were ever to realize this ultimate goal, she had to stay at the task, find out what the authorities needed from her, and deliver. But she would not leave her mother alone, and neither would she ask a nurse or an aide to sit with her. She was ready to go as soon as her dad and Wojciechowski returned from lunch and the detective had finished questioning her mother. And while they had already taken longer than she expected, she hoped Mom would rouse before they returned. Nicole wanted time with her alone to assure herself once and for all that everything she’d said in the night had been some muddled dream from her anesthesia-affected subconscious.

  Nicole sat tapping a text to her father, asking how long he and Wojciechowski might be, when footsteps approached outside. Had her plan to speak with her mother alone already failed? No. She heard “gift shop delivery,” and opened the door to the police woman. The other cop blocked the delivery boy from the door. “Can’t let him in,” the female officer said. “You order those?”

  “I did.”

  “Just give ’em to me,” the blocking cop told the kid, who looked relieved and hurried off. “Want me to inspect ’em, ma’am?”

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” Nicole said.

  As soon as she brought them in and shut the door, her mother roused. “Oh, Nic, let me see.”

  Nicole removed the noisy cellophane from the bouquet, which consisted of white and yellow daisies and yellow roses in a smiley-face cup.

  “My favorites!” her mother said, reaching. “Let me just smell them and you can put them right here.”

  She seemed to drink in the fragrance, which Nicole found overwhelming. It reminded her of a funeral. “You sure you want them this close, Mom?”

  “Absolutely!”

  Nicole asked how she was feeling and whether she needed or wanted anything. Virginia said she still felt exhausted. “But I can’t imagine why. I’ve been in bed since I got here. I’d love a Coke and an ice water.”

  “That I can find right here. When are you going to be hungry again?”

  “No idea.”

  Nicole rushed to get her drinks, not wanting to miss her own opportunity. “Mom,” she said, “I need to ask you something.”

  CHAPTER 58

  Shinar

  The chariot ride to the palace proved agonizing. Terah had intimidated Yadidatum into silence, or so he hoped. But little Terah screamed the entire trip, as did big Terah’s tender wounds. He insisted Ikuppi maintain at least a moderate pace, but Terah had to fight to keep his balance, and every bump and sway tortured him all the more.

  “Silence that child!” he shouted at the midwife.

  Yadidatum pressed the baby to her chest and turned away, mumbling, “You ask too much of a newborn.”

  “You are going to regret—”

  “Sir, I apologize, but the child is hungry and probably wet. And after having been safe in the womb for so long, he is being shaken about over an unforgiving road. Anyway, may I ask what business a servant’s baby has at the palace?”

  Terah glowered at her and turned his face toward the city, willing it to appear on the horizon. “Careful you don’t write your son’s death sentence, woman,” he murmured over the piercing cries of the child. He leaned toward Ikuppi’s ear. “You will corroborate my account of her insolence.”

  “If you report it to the king, Terah, he will demand to know why you have not slain her yourself.”

  “I’ll tell him I did not want to upset my wife, who does not yet know my decision on behalf of the throne.”

  Ikuppi said, “You know that anyone involved in this—including Belessunu—will be put to death as soon as it is found out.”

  “That is a risk I must take. My son is to be a father, that’s all I know, all I care about.”

  “Even over Belessunu’s life?”

  “She is no threat to the throne. He will assume she left me when she learns what I have done.”

  “He will pursue Abram, Terah! Will he not find Belessunu with the boy?”

  “Don’t underestimate me, Ikuppi. The king will never find them.”

  “I pray you are right.”

  “You are a true friend.”

  “No,” Ikuppi said. “I have told you, I can no longer be your friend if you insist on carrying out this evil.”

  “Ikuppi! I am saving my son! What else can I do?”

  “This deceit will curse you. I cannot support it.”

  “Do today as I instruct you, and I will ask no more.”

  “I could do no more anyway. I told you of the king’s intentions so you and your family could cast yourselves upon the mercy of the gods.”

  “Ni
mrod himself is one of the gods.”

  “I pray you will not force me to go through with this, Terah.”

  “Do not forget whom you serve.”

  “I will never be able to forget.”

  Mutuum’s baby continued to wail as Ikuppi slowed the chariot to maneuver through the city gate. Terah covered his own face as people stared.

  “Park in the paddock behind the palace and be sure Nimrod is holding court. And bring me a cape.”

  “A cape?”

  “You see how people look at me, man! I must explain my condition when I enter court, before I let the king see me this way. Your own cape would fit me.”

  “It will be the first thing the king notices.”

  “I’m taking a servant and a baby in there, and you think Nimrod will care what I’m wearing?”

  “You can’t cover your head in the presence of the king.”

  “Better than his seeing my face before you have prepared him.”

  “Wait!” Yadidatum whispered desperately. “You’re taking me before the king? Servants are not allowed in the court!”

  “It will be all right,” Terah said. “Do as I say and not only will you be spared, but I will look into your son’s case as well.”

  She looked as if she was about to cry. “I will do anything you ask.”

  “Tell the king you delivered this baby.”

  “I did!”

  “That I am the father and—”

  “You!”

  “—that Belessunu is the mother.”

  “What?”

  “That we named him Amraphel.”

  “The king’s name? But Mutuum and his wife named this boy after you!”

  “Do you want my help or not, Yadidatum?”

  “Of course I do. While we’re here, might we be able to see my son?”

  “Let’s see how you perform.”

  The baby stopped crying and went limp. She repositioned him over her shoulder and he sighed. “Wore himself out, poor thing,” she said.

  Terah sent Ikuppi off and motioned Yadidatum close. He spoke softly, earnestly, trying to set her at ease. “Give me no reason to have you executed or your son mutilated. As Ikuppi told you, I don’t even need cause, and if I did, I could say anything I wanted. The king will not want to be bothered with a case involving a servant—you or your son. I can make this turn out as you wish, but you have two stories to tell.”

  “Two?”

  “One in the king’s court, and one to Mutuum and his wife.”

  CHAPTER 59

  Guggenheim Pavilion

  “Detective,” Ben Berman said, “you have my word that the woman in the picture has nothing to do with what happened to my wife.”

  “Oh, I have your word, do I?” Wojciechowski said. “How lucky for us both! Case closed, then, eh?”

  “C’mon,” Ben said. “If you’re as good as you think you are, you know neither Nic nor I had anything to do with this.”

  Wojciechowski looked at his phone. “How long’s your wife gonna sleep, anyway? Listen, you’re right—our people are findin’ pretty much what you said they would. No one sees a lick of trouble in your marriage …”

  “See?”

  “Yeah, I see, and you’re not far off when you try to guess what I’m thinkin’. But you know I gotta follow every trail. Just telling the DA I cleared this guy ’cause I found him funny and easy to talk to is not gonna cut it. Tell me about the lady in the picture, and if I agree it doesn’t relate, maybe I can even help put your wife’s mind at ease. How’s that?”

  Ben shook his head. “I don’t know how she knows about it, but since she does, I have to tell her. I should have a long time ago. Either that or gotten rid of the picture.”

  “Or hidden it better,” Wojciechowski said.

  “That too.”

  “But there’s a reason you didn’t, and a reason you never told your wife. I gotta know those reasons, Ben.”

  CHAPTER 60

  King Nimrod’s Palace

  Shinar

  Terah and Yadidatum waited behind pillars at the far end of the king’s court as Ikuppi approached the throne from a side portal and bowed.

  “Yes, guard?” King Nimrod said, peering down from the elevated dais. “What business have you this day for the throne?”

  “Your servant, the chief officer wishes a private audience, my lord.”

  “And why does he not ask for himself?”

  “You will see, oh King.”

  “Aah, does this portend good news? You yourself reported that Terah would be absent from court until his wife gave birth. Am I to meet the blessing the gods have bestowed on him and Belessunu in their old age?”

  “He wishes to share the tidings with you himself, my king.”

  “Very well.” Nimrod turned to an aide. “Dismiss all members of the court save this guard. Summon my wife, and also my stargazers and wise men. They have prophesied this and so deserve to rejoice with us.”

  “Something else the king should be aware of before Terah enters your presence,” Ikuppi said.

  “Carry on.”

  “Your chief officer begs leave to enter the court with his head and face temporarily covered.”

  “What?”

  “He will reveal himself after he has explained injuries he suffered in a fall just before the birth of his child.”

  “How did this happen?”

  “He was tending to business on his estate when word came that the midwife had been summoned. The servant driving him back to his home hit a rut that pitched Terah out at some speed. He has suffered multiple injuries, none life-threatening but all painful, causing a limp, requiring a crutch, and resulting in bad bruising, especially to his face.”

  “How ghastly! And so unfortunate at this time of joy.”

  “Quite. And due to his injuries, he is unable to carry the child and wishes the midwife to accompany him.”

  “A servant?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Before me in the court?”

  “Correct, sir.”

  Nimrod sighed. “I’ll allow it.”

  The court was cleared, Ikuppi positioned himself near the portal that led to the guards’ quarters, and soon the king’s stargazers entered in full regalia—three positioning themselves behind the throne to the right, three to the left.

  CHAPTER 61

  Eleven West

  “Mama, the detective has more questions for you, and he and Dad will be back soon, but—”

  “Oh, Nicole, I’m about questioned out. I know only what I’ve already said. It’s all so fuzzy. I don’t know what else I can tell him.”

  “Just do the best you can. But right now I want to know what you remember about last night.”

  “That’s hazy too, Nic. Bits and pieces of getting here, lots of attention, doctors, nurses, tests. They think I was attacked, didn’t just trip and fall. I can’t imagine either one, but I know I hurt myself somehow.”

  “You were attacked, Mom.”

  “I’m getting the idea. But I had a hard time waking up after surgery, recall some activity in the night and sleeping again. I should be as rested as I’ve ever been, but there’s something exhausting about lying around doing nothing.”

  “Remember talking to me in the night?”

  She hesitated. “Vaguely.”

  “Do you?”

  “Those flowers, dear. Lovely …”

  “Focus, Mom. What did we talk about in the night?”

  Her mother looked past Nicole and appeared to be thinking. “I remember being agitated, maybe scared. Hoping you’d stay with me, that you’d be there when I woke up.”

  “You were eager to tell me something, Mom—afraid you weren’t going to make it.”

  She grimaced and nodded. “I remember that.”

  “What was it?”

  “I don’t know, Nic. Thought I might die.”

  “But that made you want to tell me something important.”

  The frustration on
her mother’s face tempted Nicole to stop pushing. But she had to know.

  “That I loved you, I guess. To be sure you knew that.”

  “But I know that, Mama. You’ve shown your love for Dad and me in so many ways.”

  Her mother sighed and nodded. “Hope so. Was worrying about that, making sure I said a proper good-bye.”

  “Mom, you said something about my hating you.”

  “Oh, surely not.”

  “You did.”

  “I don’t remember that at all, Nic. I know you love me.”

  “I sure hope you know that because I do. But you did say it, and others heard it. They think you and I may not have the relationship I say we do.”

  “We have a wonderful relationship! When friends tell me about their squabbles with their grown kids, I can’t identify and I feel so blessed.”

  “Then why would you have said something like that? Could you have been confusing something from the past when you thought I hated you?”

  Her mother paused and seemed to be thinking. “You were a rascal for a while in high school, weren’t you? When you were a junior or a senior?”

  “Junior. But I never hated you and hope I never acted like I did.”

  “You never said you did,” her mother said. “I would have remembered that. I might have wondered if you did when you were disrespectful, but you never really got ugly with me.”

  “And didn’t I eventually apologize?”

  “Of course you did.”

  “That’s a relief. So there’s nothing between us, is there? You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

  Her mother let out a long sigh. “You and your father are my best friends …” Her voice trailed off.

  “Mama, you also said in the night that you wanted me to talk to Dad about something.”

  Another long pause. “Did I?”

  “Remember?”

  Her mother shook her head. “You said something, Nic, about his trying to get here—and if I was going to die, I sure wanted to see him first. Maybe I was telling you something I wanted him to know, in case he didn’t get here in time.”

  “You know you’re not in mortal danger, right, Mom?”