Intervention sam-9

by Robin Cook

  “Do you truly believe what you are saying, or are you just trying to mollify me?”

  “I believe it one hundred percent.”

  “Thank you for being supportive. Your thoughts are important to me. You have encouraged me to take some time off to think and pray about this affair. I’m going to ask the Holy Father if I could spend a month or so at a monastery conducive to such contemplation and prayer.”

  “That sounds like a good, healthy plan.”

  “But first this awful episode must be cleaned up,” James said. He looked intently up into Jack’s face. “I’m afraid I have to ask one more rather large favor from you, my friend.”

  “And what can that be?”

  “The ossuary!” James said. “I need to ask you to help me put it back.”

  “Put it back where?” Jack questioned, although he already guessed. He guessed because he too thought it was the best solution to the entire unfortunate episode. The ossuary should go back to where Shawn and Sana had found it, under Saint Peter’s. “Do you mean take it back to Rome . . . ?” Jack continued, his voice trailing off.

  “I knew you would understand,” James said, reviving to a degree from his melancholy.

  “You and I are the only ones who know about the story. I would not be able to do it myself. You must help me, and the sooner, the better.” Jack’s immediate thought was Laurie, especially considering JJ and the need to check his antibody level to see if treatment could be restarted. “I’m afraid I have a full schedule these days,” Jack said. “When were you thinking of doing this?”

  “Tonight,” James said matter-of-factly. “I have already made reservations for us late this afternoon. I hope you don’t feel aggravated by my presumptuousness assuming you’d agree. The ossuary will be coming with us on the same flight. We’ll be in Rome in the morning, and tomorrow night I will make arrangements to put the ossuary back where it came from. Then, if you’d like, you can come back to New York on Saturday. It’s taking you all the way to Rome, but you’ll be gone for only two nights. Don’t make me beg, Jack.”

  Jack suddenly had a thought that made the idea of flying all the way to Europe seem like an interesting idea above and beyond putting the ossuary back into its burial site. It involved one of the three sheets of computer printouts he’d placed in his inner jacket pocket when he’d been packing everything else back into the ossuary in the lab. Instead of adding the printouts to the other objects, since they had come from the lab, he decided to pocket them with the idea of mulling them over at a later date. One of the pages had the name and an address of a patient seen at the Ein Kerem campus of the Hadassah Medical Center.

  “I tell you what,” Jack said. “I’ll come tonight and help you put back the ossuary under two conditions. Number one, my wife, Laurie, and our four-month-old child come with us, provided I can talk her into it, and two, I can tell my wife the whole story of the ossuary.”

  “Oh, Jack,” James whined. “The reason I need you to help is to avoid telling anyone else.”

  “Sorry, James, that’s my offer. But I can assure you she’s as good as I or better when it comes to secrets. Not being able to tell her has been a burden and, frankly, not telling her and going all the way to Rome doesn’t sit well with me. Anyway, those are the two conditions if you want me to go tonight.”

  James thought for a few moments and quickly decided that if he had to risk telling someone else, Jack’s wife was probably the best risk.

  “All right,” James said reluctantly. “What time can you get back to me?”

  “If all goes smoothly, within the hour. Should we meet here or at the airport?”

  “Meet here. I’ll have Father Maloney drive us out to Kennedy in the Range Rover.” Leaving the residence, Jack beat it back to the OCME by taxi and ran directly in to see Bingham. Unfortunately, Bingham was over at City Hall, meeting with the mayor.

  Instead, Jack ran up to the third floor and ducked into Calvin Washington’s office.

  Luckily, the deputy director was there, and Jack merely informed him that he was going to be away for a long weekend. Since Jack was already off the autopsy rotation, it didn’t make much difference. Still, Jack felt better letting the powers-that-be know he definitely was not going to be in the neighborhood. Jack then went down, unfastened the tangle of locks on his bike, and headed home. He knew he had some serious uphill convincing to accomplish.

  By the time Jack picked up his bike and carried it into the foyer, he was excited about the trip. He’d loved Rome the four or five times he’d been there, and he’d never been to Jerusalem. Stashing his bike in its closet, he took off up the stairs. It was now afternoon, which meant there were only three or so hours to get ready. James wanted everyone who was going to be at the residence by three.

  “Laurie!” Jack yelled as he reached the kitchen, but Laurie was not to be found.

  Passing the kitchen, Jack headed down the hall toward the family room and the living room. Just when he was about to yell again, he almost collided with her coming from the family room, a child-rearing book in hand. She also had an index finger pressed to her lips. “He’s sleeping,” she whispered forcibly. Jack pulled his head in like a turtle, feeling guilty for yelling out as he had. He knew better than to do such a thing before finding out JJ’s status. He apologized effusively with the explanation that he was excited.

  “What on earth are you doing home so early?” Laurie questioned. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine!” Jack said, pronouncing “fine” with emphasis. “In fact, do I have a deal for you.”

  “For me?” Laurie questioned with a smile. She ducked back into the family room and regained her seat on the couch with her feet on the coffee table. She had a cup of honey tea on the side table. “Not bad, huh. Woman of leisure! JJ’s having another good day.

  This might be the longest nap he’s ever had.”

  “Perfect,” Jack said. He sat down on the coffee table to be close when he talked with her.

  “First, I have to make a mini-confession. I have not told you the full story of this ossuary that my archaeologist friend and his wife had been working on. I have to say, it is fascinating. The reason I hadn’t told you was because my archbishop friend pleaded with me not to do so. Anyway, that injunction is no longer valid, and I’m looking forward to telling you the whole story.”

  “Why the change?”

  “That’s a story in itself. My archaeologist friend, Shawn, and his wife were both killed last night in a house fire, so that’s the end of the ossuary-contents examination.”

  “Oh, no! I’m so sorry,” Laurie said with sincerity. “Was it the house where we visited them?”

  “Yes, it was. Once those old wood-frame houses catch on fire, look out. They practically explode in flame.”

  “What a terrible tragedy,” Laurie said. “And to think, you were just there getting reacquainted. Does this mean you are losing another diversion?”

  “Not quite.”

  “No? You just said the deaths have halted the ossuary examination.”

  “That’s true, but the ossuary has to go back to where it came from. I’m afraid my archaeologist friend and his wife actually stole the relic literally out from under Saint Peter’s Basilica. It had been buried next to Saint Peter for almost two thousand years.

  I’ve promised the archbishop that I would help him take the ossuary back and replace it where it had been so that no one is the wiser. The archbishop and you and I will be the only ones to know of its existence, and you’ll have to promise not to tell anyone ever if you want to hear its alleged details.

  “Now, here’s the deal. The three of us—you, JJ, and I—are going to fly tonight to Rome.

  Tomorrow night, I help James put the ossuary back. Then Saturday you, JJ, and I are going to fly on to Jerusalem so that we can meet with someone. Sunday we will fly home. What do you think?”

  “I think you are nuts,” Laurie said, without so much as a moment of thought. “You expec
t me to fly all night tonight with a sick four-month-old child, to be in a foreign city for not even one full day and then fly on to another city, and then fly all the way home?

  How long would it take to fly from Jerusalem to New York, anyway?”

  “I don’t know exactly. Probably quite a while. But that’s not the point. I want you to do this for me. I know it sounds crazy and that it will be very difficult, probably more difficult than I can imagine, but I feel it is important for me. I will help with JJ. I’ll hold him more than half the time. In Rome, we can hire a nurse to give you a little free time, same in Jerusalem. Also, he’s been better for the last three or four days, I’ve lost count.”

  “It’s been three days he’s been better,” Laurie clarified.

  “Okay, three days! We can do this and be back in four days. I will really help. I’d even breast-feed him if I could.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Laurie scoffed. “That’s easy to say. So, on the plane you’ll hold him even if he gets antsy and excitable.”

  “Yes, I will hold him. For the whole flight, if you’d like. Just say yes. You will understand more when I tell you the full story of the ossuary, which I’ll do on the plane tonight. Say yes!”

  “In order for me to even consider such a nutty idea of flying to Rome and Jerusalem with a sick infant, you are going to have to tell me the full story of the ossuary right this second.”

  “It will take too long.”

  “Sorry, buster. That’s the deal. At least give me a synopsis.” As quickly as he could, Jack outlined the events over the last number of days beginning with his surprise luncheon visit James’s residence and seeing the ossuary for the first time.

  Although at first doubtful that she was going to find the story interesting enough to justify what Jack was demanding of her, Laurie became truly fascinated. “Oh, all right, damn you,” Laurie said suddenly, before Jack had completed has précis. “I’ll probably forget how you talked me into this moment of insanity, but you have yourself a deal, although you don’t have to hold him for the whole flight, just your share, and not just when he is sleeping, either. You are going to be holding him when he’s fidgeting as well as when he’s lying still. Is that understood?”

  “Perfectly,” Jack said, his face lighting up. He leapt to his feet. “Now, I have some preparations to do and calls to make. We have to be at the archbishop’s residence by three.”

  “You think you have preparations,” Laurie said, putting her book aside. “I hope we don’t regret this.”

  In some ways Rome was a disappointment for Jack. On his other visits, which had all been in late spring, summer, and early fall, the weather had been bright, sunny, and warm. On this occasion in December, Rome was overcast, dreary, and damp, with some rain. On top of that, he’d anticipated some cloak-and-dagger intrigue involving sneaking the ossuary into the Vatican and then getting it from where they would be staying into the necropolis. Instead, what he learned was that the Vatican was more or less run like a gigantic club for the benefit of the cardinals. If you were a cardinal, anything but everything was okay.

  Since James had used the same carton to take the ossuary back as it had arrived, it was naturally assumed by any handlers that the contents were his personal belongings. There had been no attempt whatsoever even to suggest opening it at the airport either on departure or arrival, or when they entered the Vatican. As James had made arrangements for all of them to stay within the Vatican at Casa di Santa Marta, named after the patron saint of hoteliers, Saint Martin, the ossuary and their checked baggage was there waiting for them when they arrived. After having claimed it all at the airport, it had gone ahead in a Vatican van, while James and his entourage had come into town on what James called, “the more scenic route.”

  The Casa di Santa Marta was built to house the cardinals during a conclave when they were supposed to be attentive to the business of electing a new pope, so the décor was decidedly ascetic, another mild disappointment for Jack. When James had told them they were all staying within the Vatican, Jack had allowed himself to fantasize about some Renaissance décor.

  What had been better than expected had been the night flight and JJ. Not only had JJ

  slept for a long nap that afternoon, he also slept most of the night on the plane, first in Laurie’s arms, then Jack’s. Jack had had plenty of time to tell Laurie the details of the ossuary story, which he had glossed over that afternoon.

  “Will I get to see it?” Laurie had asked.

  “There’s no reason why not,” Jack had responded.

  To eliminate any potential snafus for that night, James arranged a private tour of the necropolis for that afternoon with one of the archaeologists from the Pontifical Commission for Sacred Archaeology. When the time came for the tour to begin, JJ was again conveniently asleep, encouraging Laurie to say, “He’s catching up from the last two months.” Although Laurie was hesitant, she allowed James to talk her into coming on the tour after James found several nuns willing to stay with JJ, one of whom would come and get Laurie the moment the child awoke.

  The visit turned out to be quite helpful. At first they couldn’t figure out where it could have been that Shawn and Sana had found the ossuary, and it wasn’t until the resident archaeologist pointed out to them that to get to the tunnel entering Peter’s tomb, one had to raise one of the panels of the glass tourist deck to get down to the lowest level of the most recent excavation.

  Although Jack did feel some tenseness and nervousness prior to his and James’s setting out that night after ten with Jack carrying the ossuary and James an enormous ring of keys, it quickly dissipated. Jack had thought they would have to sneak in, but they didn’t. James had actually visited the archpriest, also a cardinal, who currently administered the basilica, and told him flat out he wanted to visit Clementine Chapel and Peter’s tomb that night, and was given the ring of keys and assured the lights would all be left on.

  The walk from Casa di Santa Marta to the northwest apse entrance of Saint Peter’s was thankfully short, less than a New York City block. After James unlocked the door, Jack walked into the hushed and darkened basilica through what he later learned was the Porta della Preghiera. To him, entering the basilica was the single most memorable moment of the evening. About a half-hour earlier the clouds outside had parted, at least temporarily, and a gibbous moon had slid into view seemingly for Jack’s benefit, which was now sending shafts of moonlight through the windows at the base of Michelangelo’s dome. The effect was to emphasize the vastness of the interior of the building.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” James questioned, coming up behind Jack.

  “It’s enough to make me religious,” Jack responded, only half in jest.

  James led the way across the transept, crossing to the column of Saint Andrews, one of the four holding up the enormous dome, where he unlocked another door that led below to the crypt.

  It took them another twenty minutes to descend all the way down to the lowest level of the excavation and the exact location in the wall of the tunnel leading into Peter’s tomb where the ossuary was found. The spot was marked by a sharply defined rectangular opening in the wall. Since the dirt was loose, Jack was able to dig it out with ease and quickly discovered all the lights, buckets, and other paraphernalia that Shawn and Sana had used and then buried.

  “We’re going to have to haul this stuff away,” Jack said. “But it will be easy. We can use the buckets. But first why don’t you find me some water? I can make a paste and really seal this up.”

  “Great idea,” James said. “I saw a water source a ways back.” While James was off foraging for the water, Jack got the ossuary back into the wall and started packing the rocks, dirt, and gravel around its sides. By the time James came back, he was ready to do the most exterior part, packing now-wet dirt on the end of the ossuary. When he was finished, it was almost impossible to see where the opening had been. As he was packing the last of the dirt, he thought about one unfortunate legacy of what he w
as doing hiding the ossuary. Mankind would have to forgo the Gospel of Simon. Jack felt bad about that, and although he’d never had much interest in the history of Christianity, he did now, and he would now always wonder what Simon Magus had really been like. Was he the bad boy he’d always been portrayed as, or had he been something else entirely?

  As much as Rome was rainy, gray, and dreary, Israel was crystal clear, with a desert-blue sky, and dazzlingly, even luminously, bright. Jack, Laurie, and JJ came into the country on a noontime Rome-Tel Aviv flight, with Jack’s nose pressed against the glass. Once again, JJ surpassed Laurie’s best-case scenario. As soon as the plane had gotten to altitude, he’d dropped off to sleep, and he was still sleeping when the wheels touched down with a thump and squeak on arrival.

  Waiting for them at the gate was a representative of a tour company called Mabat, who helped them through passport control and baggage formalities and then seamlessly handed them off to a car and driver scheduled to take them to Jerusalem. Jack had gotten the name of the tour company from a seasoned traveler, because he wanted to maximize the short time they were planning on staying in the country. The driver, for his part, took them directly to the King David Hotel, where he handed them off to an expat, Midwesterner-cum knowledgeable-tour-guide by the name of Hillel Kestler.

  “I understand you want to go first to the Palestinian village called Tsur Baher,” Hillel said with a smile. “Now, I’ve gotten lots of different personal requests, but this is the first to Tsur Baher. Can I ask why? There’s not much to see there, I have to warn you about that.”

  “I want to meet this woman,” Jack said, handing over the name and address that had come out of the computer uploaded with CODIS 6.0 and attached to the 3130XL genetic analyzer.

  “Jamilla Mohammod,” Hillel read. “Do you know her?”