“What was it that I delivered to Rome for you?”
Farouq contemplated the question. “If I tell you, will you feel at peace with what has happened?”
“Perhaps.”
Farouq turned toward the door. “Come with me.”
64
******
Inside Farouq’s office, Razak sat anxiously awaiting the Keeper’s explanation for enabling Christians to violate the Temple Mount—a deed so vile and deceitful that no motive seemed good enough.
The old man held out his hand. “My keys, please.”
Razak pulled the key ring from his pocket and dropped it in the old man’s palm.
Reaching beneath his desk, Farouq withdrew the small, rectangular casket and cradled it on his lap.
“When we began excavating the Marwani Mosque in 1996,” he began, “tons of rubble were transferred to dumps in the Kidron Valley, every piece thoroughly sifted through and examined. The last thing we needed was some relic misconstrued as belonging to the Jewish temple.”
“You mean Solomon’s Temple?”
He nodded. “Concise archaeological evidence substantiating that claim has yet to surface and, as such, strengthens our position here.” Farouq’s gruff voice rose slightly. “But as you are aware, the Jews managed to persuade the Israeli government and some Muslim archaeologists to study the whole platform’s structural integrity, citing a bulge in the outer wall that appeared during our work—a sign that the foundations could be shifting.” Farouq moved in his seat. “Myself and several other council members tried to stop them. But the Israeli Antiquities Authority convinced many people—including some of our own—that this work was essential. Their studies were to have begun just days from now.”
It had been hard to avoid the heavily publicized controversy. Razak knew where this was going. “So you knew that the hidden crypt would be discovered?”
Farouq nodded.
“But how did you know it even existed?”
He patted the casket. “This extraordinary find was unearthed a few years ago. And very early on in the excavations.”
Razak’s eyes combed its stamped bronze exterior. The decor appeared Islamic, but on closer examination the symbols—mainly ornate cruciforms—were undoubtedly Christian. A unique image adorned the cover and he knew immediately from its blasphemous depiction of living creatures that it too wasn’t Islamic. “What does that seal mean?”
“Two medieval knights in full armor, bearing shields, sharing a single lance and one galloping horse symbolizes those who swore to rid this land of Muslim influence. The Christian knights of Solomon’s Temple. The Knights Templar.”
Razak looked up sharply. “So Graham Barton was right?”
“Yes. This was the Templar seal when those infidels first occupied Temple Mount in 1099. You can imagine my surprise when I found it. I was even more surprised when I learned its origins.”
“Where exactly did you find it?”
“Buried beneath the floor of the Marwani Mosque. An earth-moving machine broke a stone slab. A freak discovery.”
“And what was inside?”
Farouq tapped the lid. “Among other things it contained an ancient manuscript called the Ephemeris Conlusio. But you delivered that to Rome three weeks ago.”
Razak recalled that the bald priest he’d met at Café Greco had with him a leather portfolio that bore the symbol of two crossed keys and a papal mitre—the royal crest of the Catholic Church. Vatican City. Fanatical Christians.
“We needed the Catholics’ help.”
Razak folded his arms. “I’m assuming that this book indicated the vault’s precise location?”
“Among other things, there was a drawing accompanied by precise measurements.”
“And the rest of the manuscript?”
Farouq described Joseph of Arimathea’s account. The eyewitness telling of Jesus’s capture, crucifixion, and subsequent burial. The revelation of the ossuary and its relics substantiating Jesus’s crucifixion and mortal death. Farouq gave Razak time to let it all sink in.
Razak reflected on just how intuitive Barton had been. “If this was true, it would violate the Qur’an’s teachings.”
“Absolutely. You know our position when it comes to Jesus. Allah raised him up to Heaven before his enemies could do him any harm—no arrest, no trial, no crucifixion ...and certainly no burial. Now do you understand the necessity of eliminating this threat?”
Razak grasped that it wasn’t just the Temple Mount that Farouq had been protecting. The implications ran far deeper. “Couldn’t you have gone into the crypt to destroy these things without involving the Catholics? Without killing innocent men?”
“The risks would have been much too high,” he said dismissively. “We both know the IAA employs many of our own people. People—I might add—who regularly attend prayer service in the Marwani Mosque. All devious tactics on their part, I’m sure. We are not allowed to excavate without explicit Israeli authorization. Had we done so, the death toll from protests would have been far higher than what we’ve already seen.”
“So you let the Catholics do your dirty work. And it gave you total deniability.” Each new revelation chipped away at Razak’s spirit, everything he’d known to be true turned upside down. Once again, religion and politics had become inseparable.
“It was the only way to achieve our objectives,” Farouq continued smoothly. “And since the threat was even more damaging to them, I knew the Catholics would act quickly to extract this relic. It enabled them to preserve their institution. In return we’d strengthen our own position here by eliminating a threat that contradicts the Prophet’s teachings.”
“There must have been a better way...” Razak’s voice trailed off.
“You’re thinking of that archaeologist, aren’t you?” Farouq sounded disappointed. “Razak, we all know that in Israel, regardless of religious affinity, there are only two sides. And Barton is not on ours. Just remember which side you are on,” Farouq warned. Brushing his palms together, he continued: “And before you pass judgment, let me show you one more thing.” He opened his desk drawer and produced a ream of paper. Peeling off the top page, he laid it out for Razak. “Take a good look at this.”
Razak studied the crude sketch of rectangles that was accompanied by some text that appeared to be Greek. He shook his head, failing to grasp what it all meant. “What’s this?”
“Joseph’s map of Temple Mount—the same map the thieves had used to determine the ossuary’s exact location. Notice that structure on top?”
Nodding, Razak felt choked.
Farouq’s voice was suddenly frail. “That’s the Jewish temple Joseph so vividly describes in these pages.” He patted the pile of paper.
“Then it did exist after all.” Razak felt the breath sucked out of him.
Farouq smiled. “Perhaps. One could even argue, just as the Jews have, that the rubble in Kidron Valley contains its building blocks. Maybe now you’ll understand my desire to avoid further digging. Following the theft, all discussions of excavations beneath the Temple Mount have been indefinitely suspended.”
“And all archaeological evidence removed.”
“Once we’ve permanently disposed of the remaining nine ossuaries, nothing will remain.”
Razak was at a loss. If it was true that the Western Wall had definitely once supported a temple, it legitimized Jewish claims to the platform. The Jews’ endless mourning hadn’t been in vain. But now they’d never know. And unwittingly, he had helped make it all possible.
Farouq reached down again and produced a thick document. “I had the entire text of the Ephemeris Conlusio secretly translated. Read this in your own time,” he set it before Razak, “then let me know what you’d have done. Make absolutely sure that you burn these pages when you’ve finished.”
Razak wasn’t sure if he could take any more of this.
“There is something you didn’t deliver to Rome. Something you need to know.” Farouq unhing
ed the casket’s lid. “I found one other document in this Templar box. Another journal, though not one written by Joseph of Arimathea.”
It was beginning to dawn on Razak that the old man’s motives were complex, not driven purely by hatred. It only confirmed that circumstances had a cruel way of playing with a man’s fate.
“Then whose journal is it?”
From the box, the Keeper pulled out a frail-looking scroll. “The Templar Knight who discovered the ossuaries in the first place.”
65
******
Rome
In their suite at the Fiumicino Hilton, Evan and Charlotte sipped coffee as they relaxed in armchairs facing the sun-filled window, overlooking the airport’s busy runways. Not exactly classical Italian romance for a surprise rendevous, but Charlotte had insisted that she wouldn’t feel safe going back into Rome.
She pulled her bathrobe snug and eyed Evan affectionately, a light breeze ruffling her hair. Finally, she had achieved a good night’s sleep. All it had taken were a couple of glasses of wine and a sleeping pill. The unexpected and utterly gratifying bout of lovemaking hadn’t hurt, either. Having told Evan all about the incredible events that had taken place over the past few days, she’d shown him the astounding presentation stored on her laptop. He convinced her that everything would be okay—regardless of any confidentiality agreement she’d signed. Nonetheless, he had booked the room under his own name, just to be safe.
Given BMS’s involvement in the analysis, they’d have to be very careful, Evan reminded her. He suggested waiting to see what would come of Dr. Bersei’s claims against the Vatican, feeling that it was much too early to assume anything fatal had happened to him.
Adoringly, she gazed over at him. “I really missed you, Evan. And I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting lately.”
“It’s not exactly like I’ve been on my best behavior either.” He smiled. “Hey, I know yesterday wasn’t the best time for this, but I’ve been dying to show you something, Charlie. You have no idea.”
He looked awfully excited, she thought.
Getting up, he slalomed around the room service cart and went directly to his bag. Unzipping its side pouch, she watched him take out a small box, a key ring, and what looked like a vial. He retrieved her laptop from the nightstand and sat back beside her, placing the items on the round table that sat in front of the window.
She shot him a look. “What’s going on?”
“I was going to call you,” he said. “But I knew that we’d need to talk about this face to face. First off, this is for you. Honestly, it’s the real reason Icamehere.”Smiling,heheld outthe smallbox in thepalmofhis hand.
Seeing it, her heart skipped a beat. It looked like a jewelry box—the perfect size for . . . Had he come here to propose? She took it from him and straightened in her chair.
“Go ahead. Open it.”
She glanced at him. Not exactly the most romantic approach.
“It’s that bone sample you sent me.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Pulling the lid away, she stared down the aged metatarsal that could’ve easily been confused with a fossil. Sitting on a piece of white gauze, there was a perfect hole drilled into its center where Evan had extracted its DNA. She gently touched it with her index finger.
“You remember that anomaly we discussed?”
“Of course.” She wondered what he could have found that would bring him halfway around the world. “What about it?”
“First off, did anyone else perform an analysis on these bones?”
She shook her head. “Just carbon dating at the AMS outfit in Rome, and that sample’s been incinerated.”
“How about the rest of the skeleton?”
She pictured the ancient bones reassembled on top of the black rubber matting. Yesterday morning they had disappeared, along with the ossuary and its relics. “The Vatican still has it.” Or did they?
“Good.” He was clearly relieved. “Cause when you see what I have to show you...” Aldrich uncapped the tiny flash drive that dangled off his key ring and inserted it into the laptop’s data port. Flipping up the screen, he brought up a media player window and activated a file. A video clip began loading for playback. “I thought the scanner was malfunctioning when I saw this,” he explained. “Almost gave me a heart attack. Turns out the scanner’s working just fine. It’s the sample that can’t be right.” The clip finished loading.
She leaned closer.
“Here we go. The first thing you’ll see is the karyotype. I’ll pause it when it comes up.” As playback began Aldrich froze the image.
Charlotte’s eyes trained on the wormlike chromosomes, arranged side by side in order of length. Fluorescent dyes assigned different colors to each pairing, labeled 1 to 23, X and Y.
“Even here the mutation is evident.”
“Which pair is the anomaly?”
“Look closer,” Aldrich instructed. “You tell me.”
She scrutinized the image. As soon as her eyes alighted on the twenty-third chromosome set, she spotted something odd. Under a microscope one expected each chromosome to exhibit visible bands along its length. Pair twenty-three didn’t have any banding. “What’s with twenty-three?”
“Exactly. Let’s keep moving and hopefully it’ll start to make some sense.”
Aldrich brought up another screen showing a super-magnified cell nucleus, as it would appear in microscopic view. The chromosomes and nucleotide material were present in their natural, unordered state. The cell’s nuclear wall was barely visible along the screen’s periphery.
“I marked the twenty-third chromosome pair.” Aldrich pointed it out. “See?”
Bright yellow circles were drawn around the two anomalous chromosomes.
“Got it.”
“Watch closely, Charlie. Here comes the extraction.”
“What?”
“I’ll explain in a sec.” She noticed that Aldrich’s left leg was bouncing up and down.
On the screen a hollow glass needle penetrated the nuclear membrane, its sharp angles in stark contrast to the natural cellular construct. Next some chromosome pairs—though not the twenty-third pair—were extracted.
“I was removing the chromosomes for the karyotype.” On top of the media window, the extracted chromosomes appeared along a black bar, in size order and he pointed to them. “Here are the extracted pairs. So far, so good?”
“Yeah.”
On the screen, the needle retracted from the nucleus and the membrane shrank back over the puncture.
“Now watch this.”
That’s when she saw something remarkable unfold. The unbanded twin chromosomes—still inside the cell’s nucleus—instantly began to divide, churning out new chromosome pairs to replace the extracted material. The spontaneous regeneration stopped once the nucleus had reached its odd equilibrium—forty-eight chromosomes.
“What did I just see?” She tore her eyes from the screen. “Evan?”
He looked up at her intently. “A huge biological discovery. That’s what you just saw. I’ll play it again.”
Playback was reset to the point where the needle was extracted. The black bar with the missing chromosomes was on top of the screen again. And then there it was, just as Evan had said—the most remarkable biological process she had ever witnessed—spontaneous genetic regeneration.
Charlotte covered her mouth. “But that’s completely impossible.”
“I know.”
Nothing on earth could explain what she’d just witnessed. “It’s absolutely scientifically impossible for any human chromosome to replicate exact copies of other sets. There’s DNA from the mother, the father...a complex genetic code.”
“Violates everything we know as scientists,” he stated flatly. “I had a very difficult time coming to terms with this myself.”
Silence.
“Want to hear more?” He flitted his eyebrows and was beaming again.
“You mean this gets better?”
“Much.” Aldrich collected himself. “I performed a thorough analysis using the new gene scanner and mapped out the DNA’s coding, comparing it with published genome maps. You know what I’d be looking for?”
“Anomalies in the three billion base pairs,” she replied.
The typical genome molecular diagram resembled a spiral ladder or double helix with horizontal “rungs” formed from pairs of adenine and thymine or guanine and cytosine—otherwise known as the building blocks of life. Three billion of these rungs were spread out over the tightly wound chromosome strands, forming “genes”—unique DNA segments specific to bodily organs and functions. With the laser scanner, gene sequences could be analyzed to detect corrupted coding resulting in mutation.
Sacred Bones : A Novel Page 33