by Adam Palmer
‘Were you here on the day that couple stole that speedboat?’
The young waiter smiled. ‘They didn’t actually steal it. I think they hired it and then went off to Israeli waters. The Israelis thought they were terrorists and nearly killed them.’
‘You actually saw it?’
Again the waiter smiled. ‘Oh no, I didn’t see it. I was on duty that day. But my friend Mas’ud came down from Cairo with them. And he overheard them talking.’
Paydirt!
‘Oh… and where is your friend Mas’ud now?’
‘He’s working in the kitchen.’
‘I wonder if I could speak to him.’ Goliath handed over some money and the waiter went to fetch his friend.
Mas’ud was maybe a couple of years younger than the waiter, who seemed curious to listen to their conversation. Goliath gave him a look that told him to get lost. He shrugged and walked off, leaving Goliath to talk to Mas’ud.
‘I understand you came down here with that couple who stole that speedboat and went to Israel.’
‘Yes. We came down here by camel.’
‘And I understand that you overheard them talking?’
‘Yes. But my father said I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone else.’
‘Why?’
‘He said it might be spies. Not the couple, I mean, but people who ask about them.’
Goliath faked a laugh. ‘Spies? I think he just doesn’t want you talking to journalists.’
‘Journalists?’
‘Reporters. You know – the press.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘But that isn’t really fair to you, is it? I mean if you want to talk to a reporter, why shouldn’t you?’
He took out some money and held it low, making it obvious to Mas’ud but not to anyone else.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Everything you can remember. What were they talking about?’
‘Well, they didn’t say anything about going to Israel. I mean, I didn’t realize that’s what they were talking about. But they said something about talking to the Samaritan priests. And they said something about Holon. I didn’t think about it at the time, but I think that’s in Israel.’
Goliath smiled as he handed over the money. He had everything he needed now.
Chapter 75
‘I, Joshua, son of Noon, of the tribe of Neferayim, son of Joseph, give this as my testament.’
Daniel looked at Gabrielle, surprised.
They were sitting in an office in the Conservation Department of the National Library in Jerusalem, together with the Samaritan high priest and two of his colleagues. Outside the office sat an armed guard whose main duty was to lock up when they were finished.
After some robust discussions with the Israeli Antiquities Authority, they had obtained permission to get The Book of the Straight from its bolt-hole in Joseph’s tomb and bring it to this department where they specialized in restoring manuscripts. It was carefully opened by experts and placed between glass. The process had proceeded smoothly except for one brief hair-raising moment in the tomb when Gabrielle had picked up the clay urn which contained the scroll, in breach of protocol. But she had handed it back immediately and apologized for her over-enthusiasm.
The ‘book’ was in fact a papyrus scroll. This surprised Daniel somewhat as he had been expecting it to be parchment, in accordance with Jewish law. But then again, that law may well have come later. And the fact that it was papyrus suggested that the document might have some Egyptian provenance. Indeed, the very first line prompted Daniel to ask a question of Gabrielle, drawing on her expert knowledge of ancient Egypt.
‘Neferayim? Could that be a variant of Ay?’
‘I’ve never heard of him being called Neferayim.’
‘Okay, but could it have been Nefer-Ay? And then become Neferayim before becoming Ephraim?’
‘The word Nefer means “beautiful” and is a characteristic of female names in Egypt like Nefertiti and Nefertari.’
‘So you’re saying it’s only used for female names?’ asked Daniel.
‘Well no, there were a few men with “Nefer” in the name, like Neferhotep and Neferkheprure. And of course in those ancient times, they sometimes had several names.’
‘So maybe Ay could have had the alternative name of Nefer-Ay, which could then have become Neferayim?’
‘It’s possible,’ she conceded. ‘But like I said, in Egyptian writings he’s never been referred to as Nefer-Ay, let alone Neferayim.’
The priests sat there in silence throughout this exchange. They, at least, were perfectly happy to be patient. But now, the high priest leaned forward.
‘It’s consistent with what we know. Joshua was of the tribe of Ephraim, so Neferayim could be an alternative name for Ephraim.’
‘Okay, well let’s put that aside for now and see what else we can find here. You must understand that because I had to leave my notes behind when I made my escape from Egypt, I’m having to rely on my memory for this translation. You’ll have to be patient with me.’
He continued to read:
Now one day Pharaoh was visiting the lands he had conquered in Syria and he went to the jail where the prisoners were kept and he saw the prisoner Joseph and he asked—
He broke off and looked at Gabrielle.
‘I’m Anglicizing the name. But just tell me one thing, does that fit the historical record?’
‘It could be true of several pharaohs. I think I have an idea which one it was, but I don’t want to say just yet. Carry on.’
Daniel looked down and continued translating, the words coming not in a flow, but almost in a burst of energy.
He asked Joseph what crime he had committed and Joseph said that he had fought against Pharaoh and was defeated. But he said that he had been betrayed by his brothers who surrendered and offered him as a prisoner that their lives may be spared. He said that they were jealous of him because he wore a coat of many colours and they took his coat away from him when they delivered him into captivity.
Gabrielle was nodding enthusiastically at this. ‘A coat of many colours was a sign of leadership. It started with a people called the Hyksos who invaded Egypt 4,000 years ago and were driven out 500 years later.’
‘According to the Bible,’ said Daniel, ‘Jacob gave Joseph a coat of many colours, showing that he was the favoured son.’
‘And that made his brothers jealous,’ added one of the Samaritan priests.
Daniel carried on reading.
Then Pharaoh told him that he too was in conflict with his brother, for his brother was older and had a greater claim to the throne. And Joseph told him to say to the people that he had had a dream and that in the dream the Sphinx spoke to him and told him to sweep the sand from his feet and that if he did this he would be king.
Daniel broke off, not because he couldn’t read any further but because Gabrielle was gripping his arm.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘The Dream stele,’ she choked.
‘What’s that?’
‘Thutmose the Fourth, the grandfather of Akhenaten, is believed to have visited Syria after conquering it… or reconquering it. He had an older brother, but somehow managed to gain power for himself. He then did some restoration work on the Sphinx and had this event commemorated in a small inscribed stone placed between the paws of the Sphinx. On the stone it described how he was out on a hunting trip when he fell asleep and had a dream. And in the dream the Sphinx spoke to him and told him that if he swept the sand away from its feet he would be made king. The stone is called the Dream stele and this passage fits in neatly with it.’
‘And I guess it also links up neatly with the idea that Joseph was an interpreter of dreams.’
‘Except that according to this account, he wasn’t so much the interpreter of dreams as the inventor.’
Daniel looked up at the priests to see how they were responding. This was presumably not what they wanted to hear. They were seekin
g confirmation of the Bible, not a rewriting of it – especially not one that cast their ancestor Joseph in a somewhat more cynical light. They did not look happy, but only one of them looked angry.
Daniel returned his attention to the manuscript before him.
And Pharaoh saw that Joseph was a wise man and he told him that if he agreed to serve him he would give him his freedom and he agreed. And so Pharaoh ordered the jailer to set him free and made him his adviser.
And there was a great harvest that year and Pharaoh and the people were happy. But Joseph advised him that God’s will was like the seasons and that God’s bounty would not always be with him. And he said to Pharaoh ‘Build storehouses for the grain and save some of the grain because the years of plenty will be followed by famine.’
Daniel looked up at the priests. They seemed a lot happier at this. He carried on reading:
And Joseph was saddened by the idolatry of the Egyptians and he said to Pharaoh: ‘What use is it to you to have many gods? Do you have many kings? Is it not better to have one god, just as you are one king?’ And Pharaoh saw great wisdom in Joseph’s words. But he was troubled, for the people were accustomed to many gods.
Daniel looked up again to see the looks on the faces of the Samaritan priests: a mixture of joy and stunned surprise.
Chapter 76
‘I’m looking for some friends of mine,’ said Goliath, holding up the pictures of Daniel and Gabrielle that he had downloaded from the Internet and printed out.
He was in Holon, randomly accosting people, especially but not exclusively those wearing traditional Samaritan costume. He saw a group of them coming towards him.
‘Excuse me, I wonder if you can help me. I’m looking for a couple of friends of mine – a man and a woman. I know they were here yesterday and I am very anxious to find them.’
He held out the pictures. The group looked at them but showed no sign of recognition. Then one of them said, ‘I think I saw them. Ask Rabbi Tsedaka.’ The young Samaritan pointed. ‘He should be in the synagogue.’
Goliath thanked him and walked on. The Samaritan synagogue was in fact just down the road.
‘Excuse me,’ he said to a man, ‘I am looking for Rabbi Tsedaka.’
‘He’s in the office,’ said the man, pointing the way.
Goliath made his way to the office and knocked on the door.
‘Come in,’ said a voice from inside.
Goliath opened the door and entered. Aryeh Tsedaka was sitting at the desk, writing, his face creased in great thought.
‘Sorry, I’ll be with you in a moment. I’m just working on my sermon.’
But Goliath was not prepared to wait. ‘I’m looking for some friends of mine,’ he said, pushing the photo towards Tsedaka.
The look of recognition in the rabbi’s eyes was immediate. Which made his answer all the more surprising.
‘I’m afraid I don’t recognize them.’
Had they told him about the attempt to kill them?
However much or little this man knew, it was obvious that he was protecting them and had no intention of co-operating.
‘Could you take another look?’ Goliath requested, with an eager look in his eyes.
The rabbi leaned forward as if going through the motions of considering the question again. It was all that Goliath needed. He reached out and grabbed Tsedaka’s head and smashed it into the desk. It made a muffled thud, but the cry that followed was loud enough to be heard, and Goliath feared that he would attract attention. He lifted Tsedaka’s head with one hand and clamped a hand over his mouth with the other, making it hard for Tsedaka to breathe let alone speak. He could see the terror in the rabbi’s eyes.
‘I am going to ask you one more time and if you do not tell me the truth I will inflict great pain upon you and then I will go after your family. Do you understand?’
Although barely able to move his head, the rabbi managed what amounted to a nod. Goliath moved his hand away from Tsedaka’s mouth. Tsedaka coughed and sputtered, trying to regain his breath. Then in a low, gravelly voice he said, ‘They’ve gone to the Hebrew University… National Library… Conservation Department…’
‘What for?’
‘To look at the scroll.’
‘Which scroll?’ demanded Goliath.
‘The Book of the Straight.’
Chapter 77
And Pharaoh died and his son became Pharaoh. And the new pharaoh trusted Joseph for he was his father’s loyal servant. And so Joseph became adviser to the new pharaoh.
Daniel looked up from the papyrus at Gabrielle, expectantly. ‘It fits what we know about Yuya. He was vizier to two pharaohs.’
The high priest nodded approvingly. They were overjoyed to learn that Joseph – their patriarch – had tried to influence the pharaoh in the direction of monotheism.
Daniel smiled, pleased that his translation was fulfilling everyone’s expectations. On the outside he was calm, but on the inside he was in awe of the fact that in his hands was a document that was both changing and reinforcing history. He put his head down and carried on reading.
Now Neferayim took a wife and had a daughter by her and her name was Nefertiti. But his wife died when she gave birth and Neferayim took another wife and she was called Tey and they had a daughter. And Tey also became nurse to Nefertiti. And Nefertiti the daughter of Neferayim married the son of the pharaoh.
After many years Pharaoh died. And his son became Pharaoh and Neferayim had his right ear as Joseph had the right ear of his father and grandfather. And Neferayim advised Pharaoh that he should cast away Amun, the false god of Thebes and should worship only Aten, the disk of the sun. And he advised Pharaoh that the priests of Amun were wicked and wished him harm. And he caused Pharaoh to believe that it was not he that was advising him but the Aten himself who was commanding him. And Pharaoh saw the wisdom in Neferayim’s words and he decreed that Aten, the disk of the daytime sun, was the one true god and Amun and the other gods were false. And he changed his name to Akhenaten…
His beloved wife and sister changed her name from Nebetah to Beketaten meaning Handmaid of Aten to show her devotion to the one true god. And in his twelfth year as king she bore him a son, Tutankhaten.
He broke off and looked at Gabrielle.
‘Does that fit the record?’ he asked.
Gabrielle looked stunned and was almost gasping for breath as she replied. ‘Well, we know from DNA evidence that Tutankhamen’s parents were brother and sister. There was a tomb in the Valley of the Kings called KV35, which as well as having the mummy of King Tut’s grandfather also contained the mummies of two women, known as the Elder Lady and the Younger Lady respectively. The DNA tests established that the Elder Lady was Tutankhamen’s grandmother and the Younger Lady was his mother.’
‘But this business about the changing of the names – Nebetah and Beketaten?’
‘It’s been speculated about in the past. Nebetah was never mentioned after the Amarna reforms and Beketaten was never mentioned before them. So it makes perfect sense.’
But Daniel was confused about something else. ‘And why does it say the son was called Tutankhaten, not Tutankhamen?’
‘Tutankhaten was his original name. He changed it later to Tutankhamen when he reversed the Amarna reforms and got rid of Aten and restored the cult of Amun… What?’
‘The next bit. If I’ve read it correctly…’
‘What does it say?’
He translated.
And Neferayim feared that he would shrink in Pharaoh’s eyes because Beketaten had borne Pharaoh a son. So he smote Beketaten and killed her. But he spared the child and Nefertiti became his nurse.
He turned to Gabrielle, ignoring the tension and shock on the faces of the priests. ‘Is that in the history books? Ay killing Tutankhamen’s mother?’
Gabrielle also looked tense, but not unhappy as she drew in her breath before answering.
‘Recent CAT scans on the mummy of Tutankhamen’s mother showed signs of an
unhealed wound from a severe blow to the side of her face. The wound was covered by the embalming process, which means that it occurred before she died. And the latest medical opinion is that the blow was lethal. In other words, yes, she was killed by a blow to the head.’
Daniel looked around in response to the intake of breath from the priests. That a queen of Egypt had been killed by a blow to the head didn’t bother them, just as it didn’t surprise Gabrielle. However, that it was inflicted by the Samaritan patriarch Ephraim in order to maintain his influence over the pharaoh most certainly did. So when Daniel looked down and translated the next sentence in his mind, he was supremely reluctant to say it out loud. But he realized that he had no choice.
Now Neferayim forced Nefertiti to lay with him and they had a daughter, Ankhesenpaaten.
‘I don’t have to listen to this!’ the youngest of the priests interrupted – and it was clear that he couldn’t take any more as he stormed out.
‘Wait,’ said another, following him out.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Daniel, to the high priest who remained. ‘I can only read what is written.’
‘Are you sure your translation is correct?’
‘I’m sure of the words. I cannot vouch for their truthfulness.’
They both turned to Gabrielle, inquisitively. She shrugged.
‘There’s nothing in any other written record to support it,’ she said tentatively.
‘But?’ Daniel replied, picking up on the hangnail in her tone.
