by D A Walmsley
“Ever considered a career change,” one of the men suggests.
“Not until recently,” says Matthew immediately, which comes as somewhat of a surprise to him. Where did that come from and why would he tell a stranger?
“Simonson,” he says aloud, confusing his staff and the carpenters, “that’s the guy on the CCTV, bet we have his address on file.”
When the carpenters leave, Matthew goes back into his office. An IT company has installed a whole new network, the latest and most expensive on the market. They reinstalled all his files from the back up and talked about a cloud or something. The screen he was watching the CCTV on has gone blank. He presses a few buttons but nothing happens.
” Aargh, I hate computers, someone get me Alphie?” he shouts.
When James Alpheaus comes in, Matthew still hasn’t worked out how to get the screen back. The young man takes one look, presses a button and…the screen pops back on.
“There,” he says avoiding Matthew’s gaze and heading back towards the door.
“Where are you going? Sit! You might as well help me.”
Alphie sits in Matthew’s chair.
“I want you to find a file called Mug Shots.
Alphie finds and opens the file and they begin looking through personnel files Matthew has collected over the years.
“Stop! Matthew sees the familiar face. That’s him.”
“Nathan Simonson, thirty-six, no dependants, current address 1105 Shemar St. Capernaum,” says Alphie.
“Wonder if it’s still a valid address?”
“We can find out.” Alphie goes onto a Government database and brings up all the Simonsons in Capernaum “yeah, he’s still living there.”
“I’ll pay him a visit later. Well done Alphie.”
Matthew has a few things to do before then and on his way out the secretary calls out.
“Don’t forget we’re short staffed.”
Replacing Dave Milo will not be easy. Dave may have been a little gun happy, but he got results. Even other collectors would take him along when they had a particularly difficult problem. A few years ago it would have been Matt himself who was in demand. Now he is seen as the boss, the old pro, which considering he is only twenty-nine says a lot about the business. Tomorrow he’ll ring round the other offices and borrow someone for a while. You can’t just put an ad in the Galilee Gazette. Most collectors were born into the business, so you have to ask around, ring other collecting companies. If there’s no one available you have to bring in someone from the outside. The money will tempt many to the profession, but finding someone who can be tough and violent when needed but also calm and knows when to back off won’t be easy. Milo was too violent and attracted trouble. Matthew would like to recruit someone like James Alphaeus. He can be smooth and chatty most of the time, but tough when it’s called for, and apparently he knows his way around computers. Matthew has interviewed young men in the past and the only thing they are interested in is when do they get a gun? They’d be dead in a week.
* * *
One of the inconveniences of being in an occupation that is hated by a large majority of the population, is that some businesses refuse to be associated with a collector; his Mercedes being a prime example. The showroom in Galilee refused to deal with him. This meant he had to use a dealer in Jerusalem and then only because he paid cash and didn’t let on what he did for a living. The same happened when he wanted to buy a watch, not just any watch, but an Audemars Piguet Royal Oak. It is brushed steel and Swiss made with a 22 carat gold weight on the inside. Like a lot of things he got it on the black market, from a friend of a friend. Which is fine, he doesn’t mind that, only he damaged it one evening on a call that turned violent and as it cost ten grand it had to be repaired by a skilled hand. The man he found was recommended by a fellow collector and has a shop in a back street of Chorazin and now it is ready to be picked up.
The shop is down a narrow street, so he has to park his Merc on the main road and walk. The dark street feels closed in and menacing. He puts his hand on his Jericho - the feel of the weapon giving him some reassurance. As he enters the shop, a bell tinkles and an elderly man appears from a back room. He looks at Matthew, studying him.
“Ah yes, the Audemars Piguet.”
“That’s right.”
The man then disappears into the back room and when he reappears he has the watch. He goes through what needed doing, a new face, strap and repairs to the winding mechanism - all delicate work and not cheap. Matthew takes out his wallet in readiness for the bill.
“So you’re from Capernaum are you, I hear that the Miracle Man lives there, you ever seen him?” The man is trying to make small talk. Matt doesn’t reply but shrugs.
“You know some people have spotted him right here in Chorazin.”
“Really,” Matts says, just wanting to pay and leave.
“My son’s seen him….” Matt stops listening, it’s not the man’s fault he wants to talk, he probably spends most of his days cooped up by himself in this little shop, with only the odd customer to chat to. He nods when he feels it’s appropriate and looks around the shop, which is more of a repair workshop. There are very few watches on display and those that are for sale have a cheapness about them.
“….and then he heals a woman, right there on the street, amazing! I’d love to see him.”
Matt’s attention turns back to the man. “Very good.” Finally he is told the cost, five hundred euros. He pays the man, adding an extra fifty for his discretion.
As the evening begins to draw in Matthew thinks it’s a good time to try and catch this Simonson at home. He reads the printout Alphie gave him. ‘Nathan Simonson, thirty-six, no dependants, current address 1105 Shemar St, Capernaum.
He parks a few streets away, in a road he knows is safe and in the shadows walks the rest of the way. 1109,1107, he pauses taking out his Jericho and holding it by his side, he knocks on the door which to his surprise opens immediately.
“Oh, about time, I was beginning to think you’d got lost…Oh, you’re not…”
Nathan Simonson takes one look at Matthew, spots the gun, turns and runs. Matthew recognising Nathan straight away, fires off a couple of rounds. Nathan has dived into another room and is now scrambling as fast as he can through the house. Matthew chases after him. Nathan goes out of a back door and is quicker as Matthew knocks into a hall table slowing him down. When Matthew gets to the door Nathan is pulling himself over a six-foot high wall that surrounds a small yard. Matthew has another shot, he misses again and Nathan disappears over the wall. Damn it. Matthew hates this bit of the job, if he had hit him straight away he wouldn’t have to do this. He carefully climbs over the limestone wall, trying not to get his suit dirty. Jumping down into an alley at the back of the houses, he sees Nathan is getting away. He’s heading into the centre of Capernaum. If he gets there first Matthew could lose him, it’s busy this time of night with drinkers. Even running as fast as he can Matthew can’t catch up. This guys done this before, he thinks as he loses him in the crowds.
He stops running, conscious that he is holding his gun and slips it back into his belt. He stands there in the busy street looking around for any hint of where Nathan might have gone. As he walks through the crowd he knows that it could be very easy for someone to recognise him and stick a knife in his back. He puts his head down and whilst struggling to catch his breath, he takes out his phone.
“Alphie, Simonson got away. Get across to 1105 Shemar as quickly as possible and either take anything of value or smash it up a bit. Let him know he’s a dead man walking. If he comes home shoot him!”
Before Matthew heads back, one particular bar catches his attention. It is so busy people are standing by the door trying to see inside. A sign next to the door says LIVE JAZZ TONIGHT only there isn’t any music playing. If Nathan wanted to hide in a crowd that would be a good place. Matthew tries to push his way in, but the bar is crammed full. He leans on the wall underneath an open wind
ow and while he decides what to do next he lights up a cigarette. Someone starts to talk, but they are drowned out by feedback from a microphone.
“That’s better, thanks Phil. Can everybody hear me now? Right where was I…Oh yes, cheers Pete.
“A collector…”
Boos ring out from the crowd.
Matthews heart jumps, has someone spotted him? He looks cautiously around but everybody’s attention is taken by the speaker inside.
“…and a Pharisee went up to the Temple to pray.”
More boos.
“The Pharisee stood and was praying this to himself: God, I thank you that I am not like other people: the swindlers, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give ten percent of all that I get to the Temple. The tax collector, standing some distance away was even unwilling to lift his eyes to heaven, but was beating his chest, saying God be merciful to me, a sinner!… I tell you, this man went to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.”
A tear rolls down Matthew’s face and he quickly wipes it away. Shit, where did that come from? He wonders who the speaker is, a Rabbi? If he is, do his bosses know he is teaching in an unclean city centre bar? This must be the first time he’s ever heard anyone preach. He knows the stories of the scriptures, but that’s just what they are - stories. The religious authorities don’t much care for his type - never have, and he has never set foot in a synagogue. He finishes his cigarette and stubs it out on the wall, temporarily forgetting why he was there in the first place. His mobile phone ringing reminds him. It’s Alphie, he’s just arriving at the house and has big Joe with him. They have the van so they are going to get as much as they can. Back to reality - no mercy and heaven for him today!
* * *
Back at the office Alphie and big Joe have unloaded the van. They have taken the usual items, TV, DVD player, stereo, fridge and washing machine. For some reason they have also taken Nathan’s ironing board. Matthew has a quick look over the stuff, they’ll get a couple of hundred for the lot. He takes from me, I take from him. Nathan’s name and picture will be circulated to all the other collecting companies with a warning that he is a known trouble maker.
As the last of the evening shift head off home, Matthew goes to his office. He’ll have a look at the accounts and today’s takings. As he does he can’t help his mind wandering to the bar. That voice, those words, he could swear he’s heard him before. That teacher was very believable. He laughs, one minute he was trying to do some GBH, the next it couldn’t have been further from his mind. He had overheard someone say the voice came from the Miracle Man himself, but he’s never read that the man was a great teacher, maybe that doesn’t sell newspapers.
Alphie and big Joe knock on Matt’s door and come in.
“Right boss we’re off,” says Alphie.
Matt waves back, and carries on with his paperwork. A few minutes later and another knock. “What have you forgotten?” Expecting it to be Alphie, he is surprised when the voice that answers back is someone else’s.
“I haven’t forgotten anything Matthew.”
He looks up to find it’s one of the carpenters who repaired his desk. It appears he’s brought some muscle with him, two very big, broad, tough looking guys. Matt’s first move is for his gun.
“How did you get in? What do you want?”
“Relax Matthew,” the man comes over to the desk, while the other two men stay near the door.
“Look, if it’s about your bill, my secretary deals with all that.”
“No, it’s not about that.”
Matthew feels uncomfortable, he slides his gun into a drawer, it’s the same feeling he had earlier with this man.
“I was just passing and saw you were still working.”
Matt is now confused, his office isn’t visible from the toll booths. How could he be seen?
“I know you were listening to me when I spoke in the bar earlier. I saw you leaning on the wall outside.”
Any number of people could have spotted him, that’s no help. He starts to get annoyed when…it clicks, something deep inside recognises the voice. Is he the teacher from the bar…therefore this man, the one who repaired his desk, is the Miracle Man…No shit!
“I’ll be teaching down at the lakeside tomorrow evening, why don’t you come. You’ll be safe, it’s OK.”
“You DO know what I do, right?”
“Of course I do!”
Tomorrow seems an age away. Matthew wants to hear more from him now, he doesn’t want to let the opportunity slip.
“Have you eaten? Why don’t you and your friends come to my place, it’s not too late.”
“Great idea, we’ll follow you.”
Jesus goes over to tell his friends, who don’t appear too keen. Matthew isn’t concerned, he has a meal to organise.
During the journey home he phones just about everybody he can think of and for those that aren’t answering, he sends them a text. When he arrives home there are already a dozen people waiting, all eager to meet this Miracle Man.
It’s amazing what can happen in such a short space of time, for within an hour of arriving home Matt’s house is packed. It seems that every collector in the area is here, along with their wives, girlfriends and most of his neighbours. This is the first time any of them have ever heard a preacher and they are gripped by Jesus’ teachings. They hang on his every word, but there just happens to be a downside. It seems some religious leaders have followed and are watching from the bottom of Matt’s driveway. The men heard where he was and have arrived to witness him not only enter a collector’s house but enjoy eating and drinking with them.
From the door Matthew can hear them complaining.
“Shameless, disgusting, why does your leader party with these people?” they ask Jesus’ friends and followers, who appear uncomfortable, hanging back trying to keep a low profile.
“These are the kind of people I have come to save, where else would I go if not here?” Jesus has heard their complaints and come outside to answer them. A huge collector with a scar across his face has followed Jesus outside. Thinking he’s helping, he offers to make the religious leaders disappear. Jesus assures him it won’t be necessary and as they rejoin the others he beckons to his followers to join him inside. “Come on inside, there’s some people I want you to meet.”
Chapter 12
Simon and Flatpack are in The Angels, playing pool and keeping their eye on the TV above the bar.
Flatpack paces the floor. “Do you want to be associated with them? I know I don’t. Just when this guy is starting to get interesting and I was thinking he might be worth getting behind.” He takes a shot and continues pacing, “the next time we see him we should ask him if he condones what they do and how they get so rich…hey are you listening to me? Simon?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m pissed too, its just that…” he pauses and pots a couple of balls. “It’s all you’ve talked about for the last week.”
Since the news that the Miracle Man had been spotted hanging out with collectors, anger and disappointment had engulfed Simon and his friends. Simon and Flatpack have heard The Teacher speak many times and on one occasion had sat and talked to him right here in this very bar. No other followers in the way, no hangers-on, just the three of them. It was awesome. It reminded Simon of the first time he’d met Caleb, who had a magnetism, a presence that he and Flatpack were instantly drawn to. That was a good day. Simon remembers getting completely wasted that evening and even though Caleb had left with his girl, he had been impressed and followed him. But compared to Jesus, Caleb was nobody. This Jesus was different, the things he did, the stuff he said, that feeling you got from being around him. Seeing him hanging out with collectors is almost too hard to take.
“A friend of a collector is an enemy of mine,” Flatpack shouts as a picture of Jesus appears on the TV.
“Shh, listen. Hey, someone turn i
t up,” Simon tells the bar staff.
A news anchor is announcing breaking news.
“Reports are coming in to us that Jesus The Teacher has gone away to an unknown location where he is putting together a team to help launch his official bid for the Messiah-ship of Israel. I must stress that these are unconfirmed reports. We are joined by our senior religious correspondent, Benjamin Cohen and we have a live link to the Capital with Joshua Lindman, a member of the Sanhedrin, the religious counsel. Good evening Gentlemen.”
The camera flicks first to Benjamin Cohen, a well-built man sitting next to the news anchor in the studio, then to Joshua Lindman, who is wearing the traditional white cloak of the counsel and is sitting in front of a picture of the Temple.
Both acknowledge the anchor.
“Let me start with you if I may Councillor Lindman? Are you expecting a call from Jesus asking you to join him?”
Lindman laughs, “No, I’m not expecting a call. Though I have met this carpenter from Nazareth and while I openly admit I have heard him preach once in the Temple and believe him to be an excellent teacher, I think Messiah is taking it a bit too far.”
The anchor turns to the correspondent. “So what do you think this is all about?”
“Well, from what I understand, Jesus is putting together an inner circle, a team so to speak, who can help him achieve his goal.”
“And that goal would be…?” the anchor presses.
“Oh, to be the leader of a free Israel, the God appointed Messiah. What else?
“And how does one go about that?”
“Any aspiring Messiah would need to win the hearts and minds of the nation and of the Sanhedrin.”
“Never going to happen, never!” shouts Lindman.
“So, who do you think Jesus will choose? Do you have any inside information?” asks the anchor.
“Well, we know that Nicodemus, our honourable council member has recently met Jesus. Joseph Arimathea is another name that has been closely linked. Then there is the cost of such a campaign, so expect some big names from the City. There should be people with political experience, people with good connections to the government. If I had to speculate I’d say Jesus would need the High Priest Caiaphas on board if he is to be successful.
