The Ripper Secret
Page 5
Chenkovsky shook his head.
‘Nothing of particular significance. He was made sole consul in the year 535, which was really just a ceremonial post which harked back to the days of the original Roman Republic. And some medals were produced which honoured him, though as far as I’m aware none seem to have survived to the present day, so we only have Procopius’s word for this.’
Pedachenko shook his head in irritation.
‘That simply doesn’t make sense,’ he said, echoing Chenkovsky’s own view. ‘Why would anybody go to such trouble to bury a piece of text which must have been completely unimportant even when it was written? There must be something else in this codex, something you’ve missed. Could there be a code of some sort built into the text?’
‘I doubt it,’ the old priest replied. ‘In those days codes were extremely basic, and normally just involved simple letter substitutions which were quite easy to decipher. And because that method of encoding produced text which made no sense, it was always very obvious if a code had been used. As far as I’ve been able to see, this text is grammatically accurate and contains no hidden meaning.’
‘Then there must be something in the text itself,’ Pedachenko insisted, ‘some statement which means more than you’ve read into it. Forget the campaigns this Roman general conducted in Africa. Constantinople is much closer to home, to where we are now, and to where the stone box was buried. It has to be something to do with what happened after Belisarius came back.’
For a few moments, Pedachenko stroked his smooth and slightly receding chin thoughtfully. Then he nodded, as if he’d just come to a decision.
‘I know I told you I didn’t want a translation of the text, but I don’t read Greek and I think I need to study that last part of the codex. Take it away again and write out exactly what this historian Procopius says about the events in Constantinople, after the battles. Word for word. How long will that take you?’
Chenkovsky shrugged. He’d anticipated that the Russian would probably want more information, and at least he wasn’t going to have to translate the entire manuscript.
‘Not too long,’ he replied, ‘because that’s the shortest section of the text. Probably about four or five hours, something like that.’
‘It probably didn’t take you that long to go through the entire text,’ Pedachenko pointed out.
‘I know, but that was just me reading the Greek, trying to get a sense of what Procopius was saying. Translating every word of the last section and then writing it down will be a much longer and more complicated process.’
Pedachenko nodded.
‘Then you’d better get started,’ he said.
* * *
In fact, it didn’t take Chenkovsky as long as he’d been expecting, because the account of Belisarius’s return in triumph to Constantinople was really quite brief. Procopius had clearly been aware that, as an historian, his principal duty was to record as accurately as possible the major events of the period. The battles which had been fought on the hot and dusty sands of North Africa were clearly far more important than the celebrations which had followed those victories for the Byzantine forces.
After three hours, he had transcribed everything written in that section of the codex onto several sheets of paper, and then took another half an hour or so to read through his work, making sure that his translation was as accurate as possible.
And it was while he was doing that, checking each sentence word by word, that he came across a single phrase which he had read at least twice before, but the significance of which had escaped him until that very moment. Suddenly, he had an inkling of the reason why the codex had been considered so important, and possibly even why it had been buried in that particular location, on the side of the Mount of Olives.
He went back to the Greek text in the codex and carefully read the original sentence again, making sure that he hadn’t mis-interpreted it, or read into it something that wasn’t there. Then he did the same for the sentences which preceded and followed it, but found nothing else which seemed to him to be as important.
Then he sat back in his seat and for a few minutes stared at the wall opposite, his gaze vacant and unfocussed. If he was right, and the assumption which logically followed from the text of that single sentence proved to be correct, the conclusion was literally awesome.
And that made him wonder about Pedachenko, and about the man’s complete absence of faith, and about his greed. Should he tell the Russian at all, he wondered? Could he manage to pass off the codex as just an obscure historical relic, of no significance to the present day? But if he did that, Pedachenko might not believe him and might even give the codex to somebody else to translate, somebody who might also see the significance of that single sentence. And if that happened, then Chenkovsky guessed his own life might be forfeit.
Then there were the wider questions. The Jewish authorities would have to be informed, obviously, because they would need to do the work. And then there were the religious aspects to be considered. Chenkovsky shook his head, almost sadly. No, he reasoned to himself, he really had no option. He didn’t like it, but he would have to tell the Russian what he’d found.
So this time, when he knocked on the door of Pedachenko’s house late that afternoon, he had a faint, slightly worried, smile on his face.
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Jerusalem
‘So what does it mean?’ Pedachenko asked. ‘I can read what your translation says, but I still don’t understand the significance of it. Isn’t he just saying that the spoils Belisarius and his men looted from Carthage were stored away?’
Chenkovsky nodded.
‘That’s exactly what he’s saying, because a lot of the treasure, the gold and silver and jewels, were valuable assets for the Byzantine Empire, and most of them had originally been stored in Rome itself, all the spoils of earlier battles which the Roman legions had won. The Romans used to display such captured treasures so that the ordinary citizens could marvel at the triumphs of their generals and legions. When Belisarius retrieved these objects, it was important to him, and to the emperor, that they be seen publicly, to emphasize the military might of the Eastern Roman Empire.
‘You have to remember,’ Chenkovsky continued, ‘that Rome had been sacked twice in the previous two centuries, first by the Visigoths under Alaric, and then by the Vandals. Then the original Roman Empire crumbled and the balance of power shifted east to Constantinople, then known as Byzantium. In almost all respects, Constantinople was then the most important city in the world, the emperor Justinian the most powerful ruler, and Belisarius the most successful military leader. The success of the North African campaigns simply underlined this, and the display of the treasures was a final reinforcement.’
‘I understand all that, but unless I’m missing something, the codex doesn’t say where the treasure actually went.’
‘You’re quite right,’ the priest replied, ‘except for one single item.’
He pointed at his translation, and at one sentence about halfway down the page.
‘This was what I wanted to show you. When I first translated this, I was unsure how accurate my version was, and in particular I didn’t know exactly what the writer meant by these two words, because like a lot of words in Greek and other languages, they have multiple possible meanings.’
The words Chenkovsky was indicating were κάτω αό.
‘Those words, or even just κάτω by itself, can mean “below”, “beneath”, “underneath”, “lower” and so on, and in modern Greek κάτω forms part of expressions like “under sheet” and “the Netherlands”, so it’s a fairly imprecise word. But I think I know which meaning the writer intended to convey in this particular sentence.’
The priest looked up at Pedachenko, then back down at the paper. Then he read out the sentence he’d translated.
‘So this passage reads: “And the symbol of the Jews he sent back from whence it came to reside beneath – κάτω αό – the resting place of the divine presence u
ntil the end of days.” If you interpret that statement correctly, it’s really very clear what he means.’
Pedachenko frowned.
‘It might be clear to you, old man, but it certainly isn’t to me. It just sounds like the typical kind of meaningless nonsense that you hear spouted by priests of all religions. I suppose by “divine presence” he means God?’
Chenkovsky was well used to the Russian’s complete lack of faith and sneering dismissal of every kind of religion, and didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he simply answered the question which the man had asked.
‘Not exactly,’ he said. ‘In fact, I don’t think that Procopius really understood what he was saying, because that sentence actually doesn’t make sense. In the Jewish religion, there’s a concept known as the Shekhinah. That’s a word that can be spelt in several different ways when it’s transliterated from the Hebrew expression.’
The priest paused for a moment, then took a pen and wrote a series of Hebrew letters – EOKlv – on the page.
‘That’s the way the word appears in Hebrew,’ he said. ‘It’s often assumed to mean a divine presence, God, if you like, but actually it doesn’t. The word comes from a Hebrew verb meaning to settle or to inhabit, and so it actually refers not to God, but to the place where God lives, and that has a very special significance for the Jewish religion.’
Pedachenko looked at him expectantly.
‘Get on with it,’ he snapped.
‘It’s all to do with the Temple Mount, and the various buildings which have been erected on it over the centuries. According to the first part of the Hebrew Bible, the Five Books of Moses or the Torah, the first Temple was built on that site by King Solomon almost three thousand years ago to replace the portable sanctuary the Jews had used in the Sinai desert since the time of Moses. A few years after its construction, Jerusalem was attacked by an Egyptian army under a pharaoh named Sheshonk, but it wasn’t destroyed. Some of the damage was repaired, but it wasn’t fully rebuilt for nearly one hundred years, and just over a century after that, it was attacked and badly damaged again when the Assyrians invaded. Then the Babylonians completely destroyed the Temple when they attacked the city about 150 years later. That building became known as the First Temple.
‘Work on the Second Temple started after the Babylonian Empire had ceased to exist. According to surviving records, the structure was nothing like as elaborate or ostentatious as the earlier building, but it didn’t fare much better in the troubled times which followed its construction. It was damaged several times by successive invaders, and was finally destroyed by the Romans in the first century, and no attempt was made to rebuild it.
‘Then the forces of Islam conquered Jerusalem in the seventh century, and any opportunity to construct a Third Temple was lost after an Islamic shrine, the one we still see standing there today, the Dome of the Rock, was built on the site, along with the Al-Aqsa Mosque. The Temple Mount has remained in Muslim hands ever since that period, so the Jewish inhabitants of the city have lost not only the Temple, or rather the Temples, but also access to the sacred site upon which the two buildings once stood.’
‘I did know some of that,’ Pedachenko remarked, ‘but I still don’t see how that is linked to what it says in the codex.’
‘It’s all to do with the dwelling place of God,’ Chenkovsky replied. ‘The Jews are no longer allowed access to the Temple Mount, the location where they believe that their God used to reside. Even the fact that there are Islamic buildings on the site does not diminish, in their eyes, the importance of that place. As far as they are concerned, their God once rested there, and will be there again: they have always believed that one day there would be a Third Temple on the site. More importantly, they also believe that the divine presence can be summoned, if you like, whenever a certain number of worshippers gather together, and that the best and most important location for communicating with their God is the Temple Mount. And that, I think, is what this sentence in the codex is referring to.
‘Elsewhere in his writing, Procopius states that some of the treasure that was removed from the Second Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans, under Vespasian and then his son Titus, when they crushed the Jewish Revolt, was returned to the city by Belisarius and Justinian. Some historians have rejected this suggestion because there was no independent confirmation that this had actually happened. I mean that no documents have been found here in Jerusalem or anywhere else which supported this contention.’
Chenkovsky pointed down at the codex again.
‘I believe that this document is telling us that Procopius was correct, and that at least one of the treasures seized from the Second Temple was restored to this city. I think that is exactly what the expression “symbol of the Jews” means.’
Pedachenko was now clearly fascinated by what the elderly priest had deduced from his study of the codex, and a glint of greed had entered his eyes.
‘So what treasure are you talking about? What were the treasures of the Second Temple?’
‘The two most valuable and most important artefacts of all time: the Ark of the Covenant and the sacred menorah. And I think I know which one he was referring to, and exactly where it was hidden.’
1886
Jerusalem
‘Go on.’
Chenkovsky paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, then replied to the Russian.
‘I don’t think we’re talking about the Ark of the Covenant, for two reasons. First, if the Ark ever existed, it would have been comparatively fragile, a wooden box, possibly made of acacia wood, and then covered in gold. The gold would have endured, obviously, but probably not the wood, and in my opinion if such an object had ever been created, it would probably not have survived to this day, or possibly not even to the time of our Saviour. Secondly, if the Ark had been a part of the treasure of the Second Temple, and had been seized by the Romans, it would presumably have been paraded through the streets of Rome when Titus returned to Italy in triumph. There is a frieze on Titus’s triumphal arch in Rome which shows that parade, and as far as I am aware there is no object depicted there which could conceivably be the Ark of the Covenant. But what that same frieze does show, quite unambiguously, is the Jewish menorah.’
‘Which is what? I’ve never heard of it.’
That didn’t entirely surprise Chenkovsky. The depth of his superior’s ignorance on most aspects of both religion and history was exceeded only by his blinkered bigotry.
‘The menorah was a seven-branched lamp stand, handmade and beaten from solid gold. According to the Torah, the object was fashioned according to God’s most explicit and detailed instructions to Moses. Because it was fashioned from solid gold, the relic would last for millennia, in fact it would survive forever, unless it was deliberately destroyed and melted down.
‘The menorah is quite clearly shown on that arch in Rome, being carried in triumph through the streets, and contemporary records state that it was then placed on display in the city for several years. The probability is that when the Vandals sacked Rome, the menorah was one of the objects they seized, and that it was also a part of the Vandal treasure recovered by Belisarius when he captured Carthage. If so, what Procopius says makes sense. The menorah would have been carried back to Constantinople by the victorious army, and it is conceivable that the Emperor Justinian would have agreed to allow the relic to be returned to Jerusalem, if for no other reason than to keep the Jews quiet.’
‘But surely if this relic was sent back to Jerusalem the Jewish population here would have rejoiced and placed it in some church or other prominent location, and it would have been guarded and protected there ever since?’
Chenkovsky shook his head.
‘Not necessarily,’ he replied. ‘You have to appreciate that the Jews were treated very much as second-class citizens at this time. Their city had been conquered by the forces of Islam, and their most sacred site, the Temple Mount, had been corrupted – at least in their eyes – by the erection of two Islamic
places of worship. If the menorah had been returned to Jerusalem openly, I believe that the Muslim authorities would have done their best to confiscate it, because it would have been far too dangerous for them not to do so.
‘If they had suddenly been made aware that such a fundamentally crucial object had been found, a relic which would help to establish the historical reality of the Jewish faith and confirm some of the accounts recorded in the Torah, they would have been appalled. They would probably have seized the menorah and melted it down to become just another anonymous lump of gold which the Muslims would retain for themselves, and anyone in the Jewish community who knew about the relic would probably have been murdered immediately, to ensure that no word of the menorah’s existence could ever leak out.’
‘So what do you think happened?’ Pedachenko asked, his eyes alight with the prospect of getting his hands on the relic. ‘If it was brought here in secret, where would they have put it?’
‘That’s the crux of the matter. The Jewish authorities couldn’t have risked the menorah being seen by anybody, Jewish or Muslim, because if that had happened, word would have got around very quickly, and the object would almost certainly have been taken from them. But they would also have wanted the ancient relic to be located somewhere that was appropriate for members of the Jewish faith.’
Pedachenko was getting more excited.
‘Then where is it?’ he demanded.
Chenkovsky smiled gently.
‘They couldn’t have put the menorah back onto the Temple Mount, quite obviously, so I think they did the next best thing. They put it under the Temple Mount, in one of the tunnels or cisterns that we know exist in the rocks below it. I believe the relic was hidden there out of sight of everyone, but close enough to the location of the original Temples to satisfy the Jewish belief in the resting place of the divine presence. In fact, I can think of no better place for it to be hidden.’