by Tom Haase
“That sounds altruistic indeed, but I think you have other reasons that you're not revealing. Now tell me what you have in mind to get close to the Donavans.”
Cornelius stood up and strolled with his hands clasped behind him. He didn't want to say anything that might arouse her suspicions about his real motivation, but he needed to find out what the object of the quest was. A little subterfuge might provide him with what he needed.
“I know the item of the quest. I also know it's located here in Israel. I just want to know what they are planning to do to retrieve it. That way I can be a little bit ahead of them or use the information to get close to them.” He watched her with great interest to see her reaction. She initially showed surprise about what he said, indicating to him that she thought he knew what they were after. In a second her fleeting facial expression disappeared and reverted to the nondisclosure look.
“You have no idea what we're looking for,” she said. “Most assuredly, you don’t.”
“That may be,” he conceded, “but if you're not going to tell me, it will put me at a big disadvantage when I approach the Donavans.”
“I fail to see what's in this for me,” Gertrude said as she rose from her chair and started toward the door. He had to get her refocused on why he would be an asset to have in her corner.
“You know they'll try to keep you out. They'll do everything to get the credit for themselves. I can be there to ensure that if you get separated from them, or if they disappear, I'll be able to track them because they will not be suspecting me. You, on the other hand, are the enemy. If I help you, I get my story because you're providing the information and at the end of the day I expect you to compensate me for my time.”
She abruptly halted. His straightforward proposal caught her attention. He appealed to her basic instinct to achieve success, and she now must respond to it. She returned to her chair and sat.
“Now we're making progress. Your terms are acceptable, and I expect to be kept in the loop at all times. I don't know how you're going to get close to them, but that's your problem. If I see you with them I will act hostile toward you. As far as what they are searching for, it is the Bible of Constantine.”
Cornelius had no idea what that meant.
“What importance does that have?” he queried.
She told him a brief history of this Bible. He started to see a monetary opportunity. This could become lucrative for him.
“What price does your father have on the book?”
“He wants to find it to put it in a museum, where it belongs.”
Cornelius didn't believe that for a minute. The man actually sent the Donavans and his daughter to get this book. The logical conclusion presented itself to his mind. The bible must be much more valuable than she let on. The old man must have gotten a good-sized offer for the book to expend this much capital to acquire it. Certain now his money funded this adventure, or the daughter would have acted more in control. The Donavans worked for Schultz with the daughter along as protection for his investment. It made sense that way.
“I plan to approach the Donavans as soon as I leave here. I want to find out exactly what they're planning to do. Then we'll make our plans.”
“Just remember, you work for me now,” she said.
He nodded and left the suite. Outside, he smiled. He now possessed a way to achieve both of his goals. He could get a story, and he could get rich. All he simply had to do, play the Donavans and treat the daughter like a mushroom.
* * * *
Gerti smiled to herself after he left. Now she retained control and the Donavans couldn't outsmart her by doing something behind her back. She just secured her flanks, and she would win this battle.
She decided to play Jake along until she could talk to her father. At least she took action on her own. Jake might prove to be a dead end but one that she decided worth investigating. Besides, it hadn't cost a penny so far.
Chapter 23
Vatican City
The blast of the air conditioning in Cardinal Ho Chan's office strained to hold back the oppressive heat of the Italian noonday sun. Jonathan maintained an erect posture in front of the cardinal's desk, expecting a tirade about his failure to provide the location of the Bible.
Jonathan waited on Cardinal Ho Chan. The elderly prelate of the church glared at him with steel gray eyes. He scribbled something on a desk pad, rose and walked around the desk, and stopped in front of Jonathan.
“Monsignor, I realize we have put a great deal of pressure on you.” The cardinal started his speech in a slow and deliberate manner with no Chinese accent that could be discerned. He took off his glasses and placed them on the desk. “I want to assure you, we know it is not anything you have done. Tell me exactly what you have learned,” the cardinal ordered.
Jonathan knew he did nothing to cause such a massive response to a simple question. The cardinal oversimplified all his responses and this raised Jonathan's suspicion that someone was lying to him. He matured this sense in the confessional as a young priest, but originally it developed in his work as an intelligence officer for Her Majesty’s secret service. While in the military, he perfected his sixth sense of danger that proved quite helpful in the Iraqi desert where he’d been a captain in the British army. He received the bullet producing his slight limp during that war. He knew the cardinal was holding back. What secrets did he guard?
“Not much I'm afraid. Bridget Donavan told me that they're searching for a Bible by Constantine. Could you tell me more about this Bible?” Jonathan asked and attempted not to be nervous. Despite the air conditioning, he was sweating but wanted to know more details. The fact that the Vatican maintained forty-nine of the fifty bibles astounded him. He did not say anything about that fact.
“Did she tell you where they expect to find the book?”
“No, she refused. They are deeply suspicious of the church after their last encounter with the Vatican bureaucracy. Can't say I blame them, “ Jonathan added and then regretted saying it.
“Monsignor, mind your place. You performed your duties admirably in that case. Do not ruin my opinion of you by second guessing the church's decision.”
“Sorry, Eminence.” Jonathan did not feel sorry, but he needed to find out more about this Bible. “I would like to assist in this case, but I have no idea why there's such interest in an ancient bible.”
The cardinal paced in his office for more than a minute. Jonathan wanted to push for the information but considered it foolhardy. If the leader of the most powerful curia in the Catholic Church deemed it appropriate, he would reveal the answer. The door opened, and the head of the Jesuit order entered the room. He made no effort at a greeting but moved behind the cardinal and folded his arms in front. His eyes peered straight at Jonathan without blinking.
“Jonathan,” Cardinal Ho Chan said, “it is a bible the church has sought for centuries. Most presumed it disappeared during the crusades. No one has seen or heard of it since that time to the best of our knowledge until you started asking questions. We were amazed by your inquiry about the book. It would provide a valuable piece for the Vatican Museum.”
“Forgive me, Eminence, but I do not believe the three highest members of the church's front line of defense in religious matters convened for a meeting with me because I queried about a Bible of Constantine that might be a valuable addition to the Vatican museum,” Jonathan did not avert his eyes from the cardinal's glare at his impertinence, nor did he take notice of the movement forward by the Jesuit. The pounding of his heart became audible in his ears as he waited for the blast that was certain to emanate from the prelate because of his blatant challenge of church authority. He placed his hands behind his back, waiting for the verbal reprimand.
Ho Chan's eyes gave nothing away. His actions, on the other hand, showed surrender. He returned to his chair behind the desk and sat. He looked up at Jonathan.
“Your movements after our earlier meeting were monitored. I know what the curator in
the library told you about the ones in the Vatican's possession.” He picked up a pen from the inkwell on the desk and started to write on a plain sheet of paper.
“I believe you are the one man we can trust to undertake the task I will give you. Do whatever it takes to retrieve the Bible. No expense is too much, and if it does exist, there can be no excuse for failure. The Holy Father gave us permission to assign you to this venture.” The cardinal handed the paper to Jonathan after affixing his seal to the document. “This is your authorization to take whatever actions you deem necessary to retrieve the Bible of Constantine. Find it and return it here, to Rome. Go wherever the search takes you. You have all the assets of the Vatican possesses at your disposal.”
“Return it here as quick and as unnoticed as possible,” Ho Chan said. He rose and came around to shake Jonathan's hand. “God go with you, my son.”
“I still don't know what is so important about this Bible. I believe it would help me in my efforts to locate it,” Jonathan pressed.
The cardinal escorted Jonathan toward the door.
“No, it wouldn't,” were the first words Jonathan heard the Jesuit priest speak.
Chapter 24
Jerusalem
When he exited the elevator after leaving Gerti’s room, Cornelius noticed the Donavans sitting in the hotel's coffee shop. He walked over to the table where they were holding a quiet conversation. He stopped at their table and made a light coughing sound. They looked up.
“Hello, my name is Cornelius Jake. I have to wonder what the famous Donavans are doing in Jerusalem,” he said, putting on a broad smile and presenting his press credentials with his picture.
“I'm sorry, sir, I don't believe I know you,” Scott said.
“Nor do I,” Bridget added.
“Forgive me, I'm a reporter with the Washington Post, and I recognized you from your pictures in the paper and your disastrous struggle with the Catholic Church.”
Bridget started to stand up, followed by Scott.
“Please, please wait a minute. I believe I can help you,” Cornelius said as he held his hands open in front of him.
Scott and Bridget exchanged glances. They both relaxed back into their seats. He could see the confusion on their faces and wanted to take advantage of it.
“I followed your story closely and believe that you got a raw deal. I don't want to intrude into whatever you're doing here, but I believe you are after something that may be of worldwide significance. Am I right?” Cornelius asked. He watched for any telltale signs in their faces. He caught the momentary twitch on Bridget's face and the contraction of her lips. Simultaneously, he perceived the scrunched brow that Scott exhibited.
“May I join you for a minute?”
Bridget and Scott nodded in unison.
“We don't know what you're after, but you have one minute,” Bridget stated.
“Thank you. I want to point out to you that if I can assist you I would have the power of the press behind me in any endeavor that you are undertaking. It would not be like the last time when you had no one to verify or validate your claims. I know I'm taking advantage of you by approaching you with this subject, but I find it unusual that both of you would be here in Jerusalem at the same time if you were not, how shall I put it, up to something.”
“Your reasoning may be impeccable, but I'm not sure that we need your assistance,” Scott said. Cornelius noticed that he looked to his sister for affirmation.
“You misunderstand, Mr. Jake, I do not trust the press,” Bridget added.
“In many ways I cannot blame you, Miss Donavan. But I want you to understand that I've been awarded one Pulitzer. I look at the press as a truly honorable profession with rules and guidelines that must be obeyed. I offer my services to you while you're here, and I hope that I can be of some help letting the world know the truth and validity of anything that you may uncover. I would get accolades reporting something of major significance, but you might have your academic credentials reinstated if it is a major find. It might even cause the Catholic Church to rethink its position. Isn't that something you want?” Cornelius concluded.
He watched as both shrugged their shoulders, looked around, and then glanced at one another and nodded. He hoped they were seeing the value of having someone on their side to report their story to the world.
“We're not looking for anything at the present time,” Bridget said.
“Come now Miss Donavan. Do not take me for a fool. I've followed your stories and know that you have both converged here from divergent places. It's easy to conclude that you're looking for something, something that would be a great value. Let me clarify, specifically an item of great academic value, maybe even of religious value like the last time. If I'm to help you and report your progress and your story, I need to know what you are searching for.” Cornelius ended his request and waited for them to take in the full meaning of his offer.
“Mr. Jake, we appreciate your offer, but I think my sister and I would need a few minutes to discuss this. Would you mind” Scott said.
“Of course.” Cornelius stood up and walked away from the table.
* * * *
“Come on, sis, you can't be serious. We can't tell him what we're doing.”
Bridget thumped her hand repeatedly on the tabletop. She ran various scenarios through her brain. The one that kept winning out centered on the fact that if this man documented what they did, there would never be an opportunity for someone to deny them the rewards of their quest. This could lead to their…
Scott interrupted her. “Hey, come on back down to earth. What are you thinking?”
“Neither one of us wants to trust the guy. That seems obvious. But on the other hand, he has a point. I haven't finished my coffee. Do us a favor and run up, get on the Internet, and check him out. I'll wait here for you.”
Scott returned ten minutes later. He gave her a summary of what he found out about Mr. Cornelius Jake. He appeared to be what he said and had won a Pulitzer Prize.
“So what do you think? Do we trust him?” Scott asked.
“Hell, no. But let's put him to a little test.” She told him what she would do and asked him the go retrieve Mr. Jake. When all three of them were once again seated, she took her time before starting with her plan.
“Mr. Jake, your offer is appealing, but there have to be some conditions.”
“I'm not used to conditions. What did you have in mind?” Cornelius said in a demanding tone.
“First, what are you doing here in Jerusalem?” Bridget asked.
“Actually, I flew in yesterday to see if there was any story in the murder of the Catholic bishop.”
“If we tell you what we're doing”—Bridget halted and then continued— “we have a condition that you will not write about it until we have accomplished what we're after. We can have no leaks by some press media before we achieve our objective. I believe it would be detrimental to our quest and probably preclude us from accomplishing it if it ever became known exactly what we're after. Is that acceptable?”
“You're trying to muzzle the press,” Cornelius said. But Bridget picked up that it did not have the tone of conviction.
“No, I'm asking you to delay revealing anything until after we have accomplished or completed our quest,” Bridget said. “That is the one condition for you having the story, which I hope, will be beneficial to both of us. Is it acceptable or not?”
Cornelius Jake did not respond at once. He made her wait for an answer. She could tell he did it deliberately. If he did accept, they would have an ally that could not be silenced by the Catholic Church. She watched his facial expression, and after a few more seconds, he nodded.
“I accept your conditions. What are you after?” Cornelius queried.
Scott told him of their activities up to the present.
“So you see, we’re planning to go and visit the bishop's house. The one who was killed. We might find the Bible we're looking for. I know it's a long shot, but it
is a starting place as far as I can see,” Bridget said.
“What a marvelous story. You have indeed done your homework in the space of a short period of time. There is, however, one problem I see with your plan. May I point it out?” Cornelius asked.
“Be my guest,” Scott said.
“I went by the murdered bishop's residence this morning,” Cornelius said, “and it is sealed off by police barriers. They have been all over that place. It doesn’t seem reasonable that anything is there that would not have been uncovered in their search. Do you follow my reasoning?”
“Yes, but if it's not there, where?” Scott asked.
“May I suggest that there are three bishops in Jerusalem as you discovered. If one of them does not have it, then it might behoove you to start your search with someone who can answer your questions, which the murdered bishop assuredly cannot. Go see those live bishops and question them,” Cornelius urged.
Bridget got a funny feeling, one that rose up from deep within her, like the warning she got when the man with the machete in the Ethiopian desert attacked her. Something, something she couldn't put her finger on, wasn't right here, but what he said did make sense. Why was she being so suspicious of Mr. Jake?
“If you wish, I can use my press credentials to get you an appointment to interview those bishops.”
“That would sure make it easier to get in,” Scott said.
“Were in a hurry, Mr. Jake. Can you see if you can arrange that for later today?” Bridget asked.
“Call me, Conn. I'll get back to you in a half hour. You are staying at this hotel?”
Bridget gave him a nod and told him the room numbers. Mr. Jake gave them a polite nod and left.
“Sis, what do you think?”
“I think we have just signed a pact with the devil.”