Intervention sam-9

by Robin Cook

  “Of course provided it’s not empty,” Shawn rejoined sharply. “But it’s not going to be empty. Anyone want to bet?”

  Neither Jack nor Sana responded. Both were a bit intimidated by the edge in Shawn’s voice.

  “Hey, come on! Lighten up!” Shawn said. “I think we’re all a bit tense.”

  “I think you’re right,” Sana agreed.

  “Okay, one last step,” Jack said. “We need to get your IDs.” While Shawn and Sana were taken to the security department to fill out paperwork and have their photos taken, Jack turned back to the ossuary. Now that it was out of the carton, he could examine it with ease, especially with the natural light streaming through the building’s front windows.

  The Roman numerals scratched on the top were far more visible than they’d been in James’s basement. Mary’s name, supposedly rendered in Aramaic, was still indecipherable to Jack. The sides of the limestone box were similar in appearance to the top but with fewer scratches. On one end, there was a shallow drill hole whose interior color was far lighter than the rest of the box’s surface. There were also four small chipped areas on the same end, which were the identical light color.

  “All right, we’re ready to rumble,” Shawn called out to Jack, as he and Sana appeared with their new ID cards suspended around their necks.

  “Can I ask you something?” Jack asked Shawn as they prepared to pick up the ossuary.

  “By all means.”

  “I noticed this light tan drill hole,” Jack said, pointing. “And these chip marks. They look new. What are they?”

  “They are new,” Shawn admitted. “I used a power drill to find the ossuary. I know it is far from standard archaeological technique, but we were crunched for time. As for the chipped areas, they were from the chisel I had to use. Once we’d found the box, I had to get the damn thing out of the hardpan as soon as I could because of Sana. You should have heard her complaining about how long it was taking.”

  “I think under the circumstances, I was doing damn well,” Sana snapped.

  “I’m glad you think so,” Shawn snapped back.

  “Okay, okay!” Jack said. “Sorry I asked.” He’d been with the couple for only ten minutes and already he could sense why James felt as he did about their marriage.

  “You couldn’t have done what you did without my help,” Sana continued, “and this is the thanks I get.”

  “Come on, you guys!” Jack cried. “Cool it! We’re here so you people can realize the benefits of all your efforts. Let’s see what’s in the ossuary.” Jack inwardly groaned. He was worrying about refereeing between Shawn and James, and had no interest in doing the same between Shawn and Sana.

  Sana continued to glare at Shawn while he stared out the window for a beat.

  “You’re right!” Shawn suddenly said. He gave Jack a playful slap on the shoulder. “Let’s get this thing up to the lab and proceed!” He emphasized the word proceed by raising his voice and pronouncing it as if it were two words, not one. Then he bent over and picked up one end of the ossuary while Jack quickly did the same on the other. Together they carried it toward the turnstile and the elevator beyond.

  On the eighth floor, they walked nearly the length of the building to reach the lab. Sana and Shawn were full of compliments about the building and the impressive view. “I hope I don’t get too spoiled,” Sana said. “This building is like laboratory paradise.” Pausing at the door, Jack asked Sana to hold his end of the ossuary as he put the key in the lock.

  “I like the fact that we can lock up,” Shawn said.

  “There are lockable lockers inside as well,” Jack said as they entered the room.

  He and Shawn set the ossuary down on the large center table.

  “My goodness,” Sana exclaimed. She looked through the glazed door into the gowning room and then through the door beyond, to the laboratory itself. “I can see a brand new Applied Biosystems three thousand one hundred XL from here. This is terrific.” They all took off their coats and other outerwear and stowed it all in the lockers, except for Shawn’s backpack. He put that on the table next to the ossuary.

  “The time has finally arrived,” Shawn exclaimed, eagerly rubbing his hands together and eyeing the ossuary. “I can’t believe I’ve been able to keep my hands off this thing for four days. It’s all your fault, Sana, dear.”

  “You’ll be thanking me to no end if we can salvage some mitochondrial DNA,” Sana said. “It will add a whole new dimension to this discovery.” Shawn zipped open his backpack and pulled out an extension cord and a hair dryer, then a small hammer and chisel.

  “How about we all gown up and put on hats and latex gloves,” Sana suggested. “I don’t want to leave even the slightest chance of DNA contamination.”

  “Fine with me,” Shawn said, glancing at Jack.

  “Absolutely,” Jack said. “But first you guys have to sign the indemnity waiver.” After the husband and wife signed all the legal papers absolving the OCME from any damages on every front known to man, the three went into the gowning room with ever-increasing anticipation.

  “When I first thought about going into archaeology, this is the kind of experience, of significantly adding to history, I thought would be a routine event,” Shawn said, pulling on his gown. “Unfortunately, it is not, so now I’m enjoying every second of it.”

  “In molecular biology, we have experiences like this all the time,” Sana said, snapping on her gloves.

  “Really?” Shawn questioned.

  “I’m joking,” Sana said. “Come on, you guys! Both of you know that science is a slow, plodding affair with only very rare eureka moments. I have to confess, I’ve never before felt this excited in my career, not even close.”

  When all three were gowned, gloved, hooded, and masked, Shawn pushed back into the outer room. Plugging in the hair dryer, he turned it on high. Using it like a blowtorch, he directed the hot air at the caramel-colored wax-filled groove between the ossuary’s side and its top. The wax eventually softened enough for him to insert the chisel. After a few taps with the hammer, the chisel hit rock.

  “This is going to take a wee bit longer than I expected. The ossuary’s top is rabbeted.

  Sorry, guys!”

  “Take your time!” Sana said.

  “Don’t hurry on my account,” Jack said.

  Slowly, Shawn inched around the entire periphery of the ossuary, first softening the wax with the hair dryer, then poking in with the chisel and tapping it with the hammer until it hit up against the rabbet. When he’d gotten all the way around, he pushed in the chisel and now tried to rotate it. There was no give. Moving the chisel along in the groove, he tried again. Nothing. A new location, and nothing again. Another new location, and there was a slight cracking sound.

  “I think I could feel some movement,” Shawn said. He was encouraged but concerned that if he applied too much torque, he could snap off a piece of the ossuary’s top. The ossuary had been intact for two millennia, and he wanted it to stay that way.

  “Can’t you speed this up,” Sana said, beside herself with excitement. From her perspective it seemed that Shawn was dragging this part out unnecessarily.

  Shawn paused and glanced up at his wife. “You’re hardly being helpful,” he snapped.

  Repositioning himself, he went back to work with the chisel. There was no telling how long it would take, or if it would work at all.

  Just when he paused to stop and rethink the situation, there was another cracking noise, and Shawn’s heart skipped a beat. Quickly, he pulled out the chisel, expecting to see a crack in the limestone, but there was none. He ran his hand along the edge to see if he could feel a crack that for some reason he could not see, but there was no discontinuity.

  Gingerly, he reinserted the chisel and tentatively began to rotate it. To his relief, the top, in its entirety, lifted off the base. It was free! He looked at the others and nodded. “This is it,” he said, grasping both ends of the top with his hands. He gently lifted
it high enough for the rabbet to clear the sides and placed the top on the table. Then they leaned over and peered into the ossuary that had been hermetically sealed for two thousand years.

  21

  9:48 A.M., SATURDAY, DECEMBER 6, 2008

  NEW YORK CITY

  Dear Lord, I beseech You,” James prayed. “Show me the way to deal with the ossuary.” He was in the exquisite private chapel dedicated to Saint John the Apostle on the third floor of the archbishop’s residence, kneeling on an antique French prie-dieu beneath an ebony wall plaque.

  On the plaque was a superbly rendered image of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin.

  The Mother of God was standing on clouds with two cherubs at her side. Attached to the plaque’s base was a finely wrought sterling-silver holy-water font. James had always loved the piece, and that morning its image had particular significance.

  “I never question Your will, but I fear that my capabilities involving the task You have placed in my unworthy hands may not be sufficient. I firmly believe that whatever remains might be found in the ossuary are not those of Your Virgin Mother. It is my humble wish that there will be no possibility anyone will believe whatever relics are found are those of a woman. Only then may I feel capable of dealing with this problem.

  I also pray that my friend Shawn Daughtry will disavow any and all association he might have originally felt between the ossuary and Your Blessed Mother.” Crossing himself, he rose, saying a fervent “May Your will be done. Amen.” James’s torment had made sleep difficult, and his eyes had popped open that morning before five. Rousing himself from the warmth of his narrow metal bed, he’d prayed a similar prayer to the prayer he’d just voiced in the chapel, using another more simple prie-dieu in his ascetic, cold bedroom.

  From then on, the morning had been similar to other Saturday mornings. He’d read his breviary, celebrated Mass with his staff, and breakfasted with his two secretaries. There had been a short ten-minute interruption when Shawn and Sana arrived to pick up the ossuary. James had watched with mild distress as Shawn and Father Maloney carried the box up from the basement and placed it in the trunk of a dirty yellow cab. When the trunk had been slammed shut, James had winced. Even though he trusted the relic did not contain the bones of the Virgin, the rough treatment seemed sacrilegious.

  After the Daughtrys had left, James had returned to his private quarters to change into his full regalia as the day was to include an official visit at the Church of Our Lady of the Holy Rosary. At that point, fully dressed, he had gone into the tiny chapel.

  With some effort, James got to his feet. Then, dipping his fingers into the holy water, he made the sign of the cross before descending to his office on the floor below. Checking his e-mail was part of his morning routine. Just as his computer monitor awoke, his phone rang, drawing his eyes to the caller ID screen. When he saw it was Jack Stapleton, he snatched up the receiver. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite fast enough. He got a dial tone instead of Jack’s voice, meaning Father Maloney or Father Karlin had beaten him to the punch. Impatiently, he drummed his fingertips on his blotter. The intercom buzzed a moment later.

  “It’s a Dr. Jack Stapleton,” Father Karlin said. “Are you available?”

  “Yes, thank you,” James said. But he didn’t answer immediately, knowing that Jack’s call meant the ossuary was now open. Reciting another quick prayer, James eyed the small blinking light. He suddenly felt less confident, as if he somehow knew the Good Lord meant for his torment to continue.

  Taking a deep breath, James answered softly.

  “Is that you, James?” Jack asked.

  “It is I,” James said in a depressed tone. He could hear laughter in the background and excited conversation, erasing any last hope in his mind about what he was about to learn.

  “I’m not sure you want to hear this,” Jack said. “But—” James could tell that Jack had been cut off by the ecstatic Shawn, who was apparently fighting with Jack for the phone. James could clearly hear Shawn say, “Is that His Eminent Excellency, hoping soon to be wearer of the Fisherman’s Ring? Let me talk to that pudgy bum!”

  James cringed and considered hanging up, but his curiosity prevented him.

  “Hey, brother!” Shawn said blithely, coming on the line. “We hit gold!”

  “Oh?” James questioned with feigned disinterest. “What did you find?”

  “Not one scroll but three, and the biggest says in Greek on the outside: GOSPEL

  ACCORDING TO SIMON. We have the gospel of Simon Magus. Isn’t that a gas?”

  “Was that all that was in the ossuary?” James asked, with a glimmer of hope appearing on the distant horizon.

  “No, that was not all, but I’ll give you back to Jack for that. Talk to you soon.” A moment later Jack came back on the line. “He is one happy archaeologist,” Jack explained. “I’m certain he doesn’t mean to be disrespectful if you heard what he’d said before he got the phone away from me.”

  “Just tell me, were there bones in the ossuary?” James asked. At the moment, he was uninterested in manners.

  “There were,” Jack admitted. “To me, it looks like a complete skeleton, including a skull that’s in reasonably good shape. It could be more than one skeleton, but there’s only one skull.”

  “Holy Mary, Mother of God,” James murmured, more to himself than to Jack. “Can you tell if the remains are human?”

  “That would be my guess.”

  “How about the sex?”

  “That’s harder to say. The pelvis is in pieces, which is the way I’d try to tell. But as soon as I saw the bones when we got the top off the ossuary, I called Alex Jaszek, the head of the OCME department of anthropology, told him what we were doing in a very general way, and asked him if he’d like to come over. He’s on his way.”

  “You didn’t mention anything about the Virgin Mary, did you?”

  “Of course not. I just said we opened a first-century ossuary.”

  “Good,” James said, trying to think of what he should do. He was tempted to go over to the city DNA building himself to view the relics, but to do so would require changing again, lest his visit appear on the cover of tomorrow’s Times. Since he had to be at the luncheon at noon in his ecclesiastical finery, he decided he didn’t have enough time to change and then change back.

  “James, Shawn wants to talk with you again. Is it okay if I hand him the phone?”

  “Yes, it’s okay,” James said warily. He assumed Shawn wanted to hit him a few more times while he was down for the count.

  “Hey!” Shawn said, coming on the line. “I just remembered it’s your birthday! Happy birthday, Your Eminent Excellency.”

  “Thank you,” James said. It took him by surprise. As upset as he was over the ossuary and its potential ramifications, he’d totally forgotten his own birthday. He also wondered why his staff had not said anything, even though he’d never been a stickler for such things. “My title is Your Eminence or Your Excellency,” James said in partial rebuke.

  “But from you I would prefer James.”

  “Right you are,” Shawn said with indifference. “I have a suggestion. How about we throw a party tonight, provided you don’t have to dine with some country leader or other muckety-muck. We’ll celebrate your birthday and our breakthrough find together. What do you say? The simultaneity is a bit ironic, of course, but life is like that.” James’s first reaction was to say absolutely, categorically, no. He didn’t want to listen to Shawn bragging about how he was going to shock the world with his revelations. But as James quickly thought about the invitation, the more he began to believe it might be a good idea to bear the burden. He needed to be part of the investigation from the beginning so that he could keep a healthy amount of skepticism alive in the minds of all concerned, if he was to have any hope of ultimately talking Shawn out of publishing anything about the Virgin Mary. Perhaps it was a long shot, but for the moment it was the only strategy James could imagine beyond prayer.

  �
�I’m thinking about picking up some steaks, salad makings, and some terrific red wine on the way home,” Shawn went on when James didn’t respond. “We can grill the steaks on the back porch. What do you say?”

  What made James continue to hesitate was the worry of Shawn being insufferable and riding him the whole evening. James doubted he could endure such an evening on so little sleep.

  “Instead of staying in we could always go out,” Shawn persisted in the face of James’s silence. “I just thought you don’t like to go out.”

  “Only with you,” James said. “We always get into an argument over dinner. I’m not blaming you, I’m just as guilty, and even if I go as a civilian, someone always recognizes me. I don’t need that type of publicity. Let me talk again with Jack!”

  “He wants to talk with you,” Shawn said, with frustration.

  “What is it?” Jack asked with a tired voice. He had a premonition of what was coming, meaning the refereeing was already beginning.

  “Jack, Shawn’s planning a celebration dinner tonight at their home. You’ve got to be there.”

  “I haven’t actually been officially asked, and besides, I have to get home to help Laurie with JJ, our son.”

  “Jack, I need your help, as I made clear yesterday. If you’ll come to this impromptu dinner party, I’ll do the same, but I’m going to need a buffer with Shawn, especially with the current high he is on. I need to know more about what he’s found and what he’s thinking, but you know it’ll be torture.”

  “So I’ll play referee once again,” Jack said grudgingly. He’d never liked the role.

  “Jack, please!”

  “All right, if it’s not going to be late.”

  “It won’t be late. I have to say Mass in the cathedral early in the morning. On top of that I slept poorly last night. Believe me, it is not going to be a late night. Listen, I’ll bring my car, and I’ll drive you home.”

  “Okay, I’ll come,” Jack said, “but I have to check with Laurie.”

  “Fair enough,” James said. “Put Shawn back on.”