The Eighth Veil

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by Frederick Ramsay


  The captain shuffled his feet and looked around the room. Gamaliel smiled and said, “This man is your next in command, is he not?” He turned to the second guard. “Tell me, how did your captain post the guards to capture the man when he fled from the basement?”

  “Well, we were posted at all the exits, sir.”

  “All? Did not the captain assume responsibility for at least one of them?”

  “Yes he did.”

  “And that one was the area nearest the kitchens, I suppose. Good, thank you. Another question, when you searched the cellars, did not your captain also assume responsibility for that same area?”

  “Yes.”

  “One final question. This one is really for you, Captain. You reported to me that Graecus was spotted hiding out with the pilgrims outside of the city. Why did you not bring him in at that moment?”

  The captain’s expression turned stony. Gamaliel returned to speak with the second man.

  “Were you aware the Greek was camped outside the walls?”

  The man hesitated and glanced at his superior officer out of the corner of his eye.

  “Sir, I—”

  “You do not need to answer that. This man has no authority here,” the captain cut in.

  Gamaliel flashed Pilate’s ring at the men. “You are mistaken in that, Captain, in fact I do, but that is beside the point. What is to the point is that you colluded with the man called Graecus. You were the one who went to the girl that night and told her that Menahem waited for her in the bath with a letter. You delivered her to her death and you allowed the man to slip by you just now.”

  The captain studied Gamaliel. Did he think to fight or flee, brazen it out, or confess? All this confrontation business was new to the Rabban. He felt a small surge of exhilaration and wondered if, by some quirk, he was beginning to like it.

  “So what will you do? The man is gone and the pendant with him. This man here,” the captain jerked his thumb at the other guard, “will say nothing if he wishes to see his wife and child again, and you…well, I think it likely you may suffer a fatal accident when you fall down those steps that lead to the cellars. You should not have attempted to capture the man yourself at your age. Very foolish thing to do. I will report this accident to the king and he will be most upset and—well, the Prefect will not like this outcome either, but soon we will all leave the city and you, the girl’s murder, and her killer will be forgotten.”

  “Ah, but you are wrong, Captain. You posted your guards so that the man might escape. I posted ones of my own to prevent that from happening. We have your pseudo-Greek in custody. You are finished, my friend. You would be wise not to make your fate worse.”

  The captain grabbed Gamaliel by his tunic and shoved him toward the open door and the cellar steps behind it.

  “Stop right there!”

  The king and Chuzas stepped through the left-hand door. So it did open. How very convenient.

  Chapter XLII

  Pilate made Gamaliel wait nearly an hour on the Antonia Fortress steps before he joined him. It was a petty thing to do, but he was the Emperor’s Prefect and he would demonstrate to the Rabban his position and importance and incidentally his impatience with the Jews’ refusal to cross the doorstep of people they referred to as Gentiles. This Rabban would not enter the Antonia Fortress. Pilate had had the same difficulty when he wished to meet with the High Priest in the past. These stiff necked Israelites were more trouble than they were worth. He’d said so on more than one occasion. What god or goddess had disliked him so much to have him posted to this land of holy men and fanatics? He’d already been chided by Rome several times for his alleged disrespect for their culture and norms. So, he honored their peculiar scruples, but he felt no need to make them comfortable in them. After what he considered to be a suitable passage of time he stepped into the courtyard and greeted his reluctant investigator.

  “You have unraveled the puzzle, this time for certain, Rabban?”

  “I have, Excellency.”

  “Good. So we are done. Who was responsible for the servant girl’s death?”

  “I must first clear up two things with you. It is a matter of some urgency that you dispatch your agents at once to apprehend a man who, while he resided in the city, that is to say the palace, went by the name of Graecus.”

  “He was called the Greek?”

  “Yes. He is not Greek in fact, but he passed himself off as being of that race to disguise his origins and motives.”

  “But why should I waste men and time on this man?”

  “You asked me to find the killer, I have. It is this pseudo-Greek and his accomplice, the captain of the palace guards.”

  “Really? The king’s own guards? Ah, well, as you may have discerned, I set you that task only to put your king in my debt, you could say. It was never material to me for you to actually solve it, you know.”

  “I know that, Excellency. What I do not know, however, is why you bothered.”

  “It is always wise, Rabban, to have powerful men indebted to you—one way or the other. You obviously mistook my intent at first, Rabban. I have no abiding interest in punishing a man for killing a mere servant girl. I would have, of course if he were to be delivered to me, but to pursue him for the death of a servant? I think not. If I would do that, the jails would be filled with most of the owners of slaves and servant masters in the country.”

  “She is dead, murdered, and deserves justice.”

  “Pah! She is only one of thousands who find themselves in such situations. She is undoubtedly better off where she is now.”

  “I will concede that from your point of view, her death may not require any further action. I do not agree with it, but I understand it. Your reasoning, however presumes she was, as you say, a mere servant. That is the second thing you should know. She was no mere servant girl. Please, sir, dispatch your men while there is still time.”

  “Not a servant? What then?”

  “I will tell you in a moment but it is important this man be brought in. Excellency, your agents, please. This man, who foolishly believed he could pass himself off as a Greek but in his vanity could not bear to be without his ostentatious leather boots, must be taken. Chuzas and a handful of palace guards now hold him, but the guards suffer from a divided loyalty at the moment as they are holding their former captain prisoner as well. If he can prevail on them to free him, I fear our Greek may slip away as well. I need your men there so as to encourage the king’s men in their duty.”

  Pilate studied the rabbi and scratched his head. This man was no fool and he seemed unnaturally eager to see the thing done. He frowned at the thought of having to yield to the Rabban. He did not like underlings to argue with him much less order him about. But this was the Rabban and his reputation for veracity had never been questioned. If he thought capturing the Greek important, it must be. He left and gave orders to a tribune who’d been waiting in attendance to mount a detail of soldiers and remove themselves to the king’s palace and arrest the man known as Graecus. If by chance, he had slipped the noose and they failed to apprehend him there, they were to send dispatches to check all the roads leaving the city all the way to the Cappadocian border. Then he turned back to the Rabban.

  “Now tell me. What do you mean, no mere servant girl? Who was she?”

  “It will make more sense if you allow me to begin at the beginning. Might we have something to drink? It has been a long day.”

  “You will share hospitality with me? Am I not a pagan and what…unclean under your law?”

  Gamaliel shrugged. “I hope you will not tell anyone, Excellency. There are times when if one is presented with a dilemma one must exercise a flexible spirit.”

  “Indeed? You are sounding a bit like a Greek yourself, Rabban.” Pilate had a flask of wine and cups brought. He poured two cups and handed one to Gamaliel.“And now?”

  “And now, I will tell you an amazing story, Excellency.” Gamaliel sipped his wine and paused to collect hi
s thoughts. “First there is the matter of the pendant I found in the pool. Then there is the knife which someone wished me to believe was the murder weapon, and there is the putative Greek.”

  “The knife was not the killer’s?”

  “As I tried to indicate to you earlier, it was not. That took me off on a tangent for a time and nearly foiled any chance I had to solve this thing. As it happened the physician had doubts about the weapon as well and then, luckily, the wife of Chuzas came to tell me that her husband was jealous of Menahem and it became obvious who had placed the knife in the pool.”

  “But why?”

  “To bring disgrace on Menahem.”

  “But why would he do that?”

  “That is another story and one I do not think will interest you. It has to do with a rabbi from the Galilee who has gathered followers, one of whom was the wife, Joanna, and the other this old man, Menahem. Chuzas came to believe it was Menahem who first led his wife astray and he thought if Menahem were accused of the murder, his influence would wane and the devotion his wife showed the rabbi disappear. He, like you, believed nothing much would be done to one who killed a mere servant girl, but Menahem would be ruined and perhaps banned from court.”

  “You wish the steward to be punished for his deceit?”

  “No, thank you. Like you, Excellency, I too, understand the benefits of having someone in one’s debt. Chuzas will keep me informed of the goings on in the court, information I will find most useful.”

  “Very good, Rabban, you become more like us with each passing moment.”

  “With our late king in mind, I prefer to think that you have become like us in that regard. Very well, here is the nut of the fruit. This girl, whose name as it happens was Alexandra, came to this land, or more properly was dispatched to this land, by her father from Cappadocia.”

  “Her father? Am I to take it this parent was someone of importance?”

  “Yes and no. He might have been had he lived. He was the Archelaus about whom you spoke when you first charged me with this commission. You thought he might have come to the city. Your informants were either mistaken in the precise who was arriving, or they were deliberately misled. We will never know for certain.”

  “I am starting to be confused, but please continue.”

  “Your suggestion that the man in question was in the city led me first to think that Menahem must be this Archelaus. He is a bit older than I would have thought, but I considered it a distinct possibility. But I was disabused of that when I first saw him.”

  “Why was that?”

  “It was the way he looked when he turned his head away. I knew that profile. I had seen it before and recently, but could not place where. Later, I remembered. So had you, I dare say.”

  “Me? When?”

  “In the past, possibly in person, and certainly on some coinage that would have passed through your hands at one time or another.”

  “Please be clearer, of whom are we speaking?’

  “Indulge me for a moment more, Excellency. I want to return to the girl and the pendant. It is more important to you and to your Caesar to have a complete and clear understanding as to what occurred, who was responsible, and the measures you personally took to prevent a potential international incident.”

  “That is a great deal of information in one sentence, Rabban. International incident? Truly? Measures I took?”

  “Yes, you took. You are the Prefect. You ordered the investigation against most people’s better judgment including the king, and you just sent your men to apprehend the killer of a princess.”

  “A princess? I suppose you best proceed as you wish.”

  Gamaliel withdrew the pendant from the pouch at his belt and tossed it casually onto the low table which stood between them. Its golden surface glowed warmly in the fading afternoon sun.

  “You will see I do not exaggerate. This murder has, as I suggest, far reaching implications and yet is essentially the story of this pendant, who wore it, and why.”

  Chapter XLIII

  Pilate scooped up the pendant and studied it. He turned it over and did the same to the obverse. He dropped it back on the table. “I can see nothing out of the ordinary here, Rabban. There is some writing on the front and back and a rendering of a lion’s head in the middle. Not a very good one at that. The writing, I take it is in Hebrew, correct?”

  “You would say a dialect, but that is a small point. If you look carefully, it is also repeated in Greek and Latin. At least I am assured it is Latin. I do not read your tongue, Prefect, so I cannot say for sure. Anyway it is what it says that makes it important.”

  “Do not play with me, Rabban. I will enjoy your company and hear your story, but I refuse to play guessing games. Tell me directly what is so important about this that you believe a report should be sent to Caesar about it. That is what you implied, is it not?”

  “Indeed. A report to the emperor might be appropriate or it might not. It is for you to decide.” He picked up the medallion and read.

  Given this day in the seventeenth year of my reign to my grandson Archelaus. It shall be a symbol of his authority to act in my name…

  Gamaliel turned the pendant over and continued.

  In all things in heaven and earth.

  “Then there is the name of the person who bestowed this item, Herod, King of Israel. The lion is his emblem. This medallion or pendant was worn by the dead girl. It was given to her by her father but not in the form you see it here. I found it in the bath, you see, where I presume it had fallen when she was killed. I believe it was the reason she died. Her killer wanted that bit of jewelry very badly. The killing was secondary and I now believe accidental to his desire to obtain the medallion.”

  “Why didn’t he simply take it from her? She was a slip of a girl, an easy thing for a man to overpower.”

  “Several reasons. I believe that was his intent, but he had another task to perform first.”

  “And that was?”

  “He needed to deflower her. If she was no longer a virgin, she would be considered damaged goods and that meant that the likelihood someone would marry her greatly diminished. Her line, and thus any pretenders to the throne that could come from it, would end with her.”

  “Throne? What throne?”

  “Cappadocia at least.”

  “I am lost. Go back to the rape. She would not be marriageable, you say? You are a strange people, Rabban. So he rapes her, then what?”

  “He was, I think, most probably one of those men who routinely abuse women, especially young virginal ones, anyway. He decided he would force her first and then take the pendant from her neck. It was a serious mistake”

  “She fought him?”

  “It would seem so. In the struggle he attempted to cut the thong to which the pendant was attached. He held her head underwater to disable her, I assume, and as she struggled to breathe her head jerked forward at the precise moment he attempted to cut the thong and instead of merely slicing through the leather, he slashed her neck as well. Slashing upward, not down. That misled the physician and me, for a time. Because the wound seemed to be downward from right to left as he faced her, we assumed the killer used his left hand, but in fact he attempted to cut the thong and her throat, you could say, got in the way. The rush of blood must have startled him and the pendant slipped from his fingers and into the depths of the bath.”

  “And he didn’t want to go into the water to retrieve it? That seems rather fastidious for a man accustomed to cruelty.”

  “I do not think it had anything to do with fastidiousness, Excellency. Barak, the man you assigned to me you recall, had the night watch. He entered the area at about the time this man would have gone after the pendant. The killer fled and with the uproar that followed, could not return to retrieve his prize. He tried on later occasions, but, as you know a guard had been posted and then when I had the bath drained, I found the piece and it was too late. All he could do after that was to hope no one would reco
gnize it for what it was and that he might be able to steal it back later.”

  “He needed the pendant? Why?”

  “Ah, that is a question the answer to which I can only guess, but I believe it would have to do, as I said, with the attempt by remaining sons of Alexander to seize the throne of Cappadocia. For the killer, it had to do with collecting his fee.”

  “Fee? You’ve lost me again, Rabban.”

  “Bounty, then. I believe the captain of the guard, Geris, sent word to Cappadocia of his suspicions that the girl might be royalty. I do not know what the relationship was between the two men, but you can find that out when you have them in custody. So, Geris, in turn, sold this information and subsequently was paid by agents acting for Tigranes and/or Alexander II to travel to Jerusalem, pose as an emissary from some court in Greece, violate the girl, and return with the pendant. How he managed to get it was of no consequence to his employer or employers. If he could simply steal it, well and good, but any means to an end would be acceptable.”

  “I understand that this bit of gold once belonged to the missing son of Alexander. Am I to understand that while Alexander was a candidate for assassination, the grandson was not?”

  “It would seem so. Our late great king was a complex man. He willingly punished those whom he believed stood against him, innocent or guilty. But those who he believed did not, he treated fairly. Whole families were not punished for the sins of one of their members.”

  “I don’t know what our late and no longer lamented Julius Caesar saw in him.”

  “Oh, he was extremely good at what he undertook and I doubt your Caesar cared a fig how he ran his court. Tribute is the measure of success in his world, and Herod the King was very generous. Do not forget, he also won the favor of Marc Antony, Queen Cleopatra, and Octavian, or Augustus, as he came to be. Say what you will, Antipas’ father knew what he was about.”

  “If you say so. I grant that he was a builder. Continue.”

  “So, it happens this child was the daughter of Archelaus. I can now tell you that he is dead, poisoned by his brothers who, I surmise, had in place a plot to replace their grandfather, the King of Cappadocia who died a decade ago after Tiberius exiled him.”

 

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