“So, what is this the ‘Aryan race’ idea all over again?” Funny, I thought, Dr. Margulies had related it to Nazi Germany, too.
“Yeah, I guess. Only this was long before the Nazi party came into being.”
“Well, Justin, you’re the historian. You know that man has always tried to conquer the world and take it for himself. You shouldn’t find that to be so alarming. If that’s what the thing said then it expresses sentiments that men throughout time have had.”
“It was a lot more than that Greg, and the information from the manuscripts was hidden. We’ve never hid any information on any part of history that I am aware of, no matter how bad it was. We may try to smooth it over, excuse it or lie about it, but we know about it. Nothing was purposely destroyed because someone thought it would be a ‘disturbing revelation’ to the world. That’s why it’s so important to get back to Jerusalem to find out what could’ve been so devastating that he would destroy it and then maybe even kill someone over it.”
“So why don’t you take your husband on this little caper of yours?”
“Because he thinks I’m sane. You’re the only one who knows the truth.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“You know, Justin,” amusement replacing the frown he had worn since the beginning of the conversation. “Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy. So, agreeing with me that you are crazy, doesn’t help your case. And, it means that there’s still hope for you. So, maybe instead of going along with your madcap ideas, I should just get you some help.”
“Michael’s going.” Maybe that would help convince him.
“Our brother Michael?”
“Yes, our brother Michael.”
“Why Michael?”
“Because he’s a ninja.”
He rolled his eyes and then hung his head. He chuckled and took a deep breath, “Michael is not a ninja.”
“Well, he thinks he is.”
“He thought that when he was six years old.”
“He still thinks he’s a ninja, ask Regina. And he’s been in the Marines, special forces and everything so he knows all about covert missions and plus he’s a teacher.” I knew that should convince him.
He started that grunting sound again. “What does being a teacher have to do with this?”
“He’ll fit right in at the University,” I said.
“Justin, Michael teaches second grade.”
I was definitely losing ground here.
“Claire’s going.” Always good to have back-up ammunition.
“Claire?” He just started laughing. And, then just kept laughing. Why was he laughing?
“Greg.” I said very seriously so he would stop. He didn’t.
“Why are you laughing and why do you keep repeating every name I say? What’s wrong with Claire going? She does medical research and they have some kind of medical research convention going on there, so that’s our cover. Claire is perfect for this.”
“I just can’t believe that you think Claire could help. Plus, Justin, you have a Ph.D. and you’ve taught at a university. You’ve been there and you know where the journals are and what we’re looking for. Why do you have to make such a big production number out of it? Why can’t we just go without a ‘cover?’” He made the gesture for quotation marks with his fingers.
“We? So you’re going?” I perked up.
He held up his hands. “I didn’t say that.”
The perkiness left.
“You just said ‘we’ – ugh. It can’t just be me because they know me there.”
“So?”
“So, if it gets back to the people that were there they may suspect something. I told you that they’re already trying to cover this thing up and killing people over it.”
“Stop saying someone was killed, because you don’t know that.” He looked at me. He really wasn’t being convinced. “I think you watch too much TV,” he chuckled. “You and your conspiracy theory.”
“I do not watch too much TV, this is real.”
“I could get disbarred for this.”
“No you can’t, I checked. It’s a foreign country.” I really hadn’t checked anything but it seemed like the right thing to say.
“Oh, you checked?” There he goes again, not believing my lies. “Well, they would deport me back to Ohio and then, you can be sure, they’d disbar me.”
“Greg, if you don’t help me, I am going to tell Mommy.” I hated pulling out the big guns, but he was making me do it.
“Tell Mother what?”
“Tell Mommy that you won’t help me with something that is very important to me.”
My mother hated when we didn’t help each other out. She always said, “All you have is family and you have to be able to count on them through thick and thin, no matter what.”
“Justin,” he spoke slowly as if to make sure I got every word. “I am a 42-year old man. I own not only one home, but several, in other states even. I have a two-hundred and fifty thousand dollar a year job, my own practice and have been rated a Super Lawyer. You threatening to tell our mother about this does not scare me.” He stood up to leave and I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. I tightened my jaw and narrowed my eyes and got real close to his face.
“I will go and tell Mommy, right now.” This time I wasn’t lying. “I’m not playing Greg, I promise I will tell Mommy that you won’t help me and when I tell her I will be crying so hard that it won’t even matter what I want, all she’ll care about is that you won’t help me.”
If I cried to my mother that Greg wouldn’t help me, especially after I’d been so depressed that I’d threatened to uproot my family and move hundreds of miles away, whether what I wanted help with was the right or wrong thing to do, she would have a fit. She would be so mad at Greg that it would take him a long time to make it right with her. She would tell him not to come around her anymore “acting like he cared,” she would say, because he didn’t “give a hoot about his family.” Then she would top it off with “and, I don’t want you to even come to my funeral,” (her favorite line when she was mad at one of us). That would kill Greg.
“You wouldn’t make a scene at your own daughter’s going away party?” I think he was trying to convince himself of that but he knew better and my facial expression confirmed it. He also knew our mother.
“Okay, I’ll go. But only to watch you guys, make sure you don’t get into any trouble. And, I’m not helping to steal anything.”
He is such a momma’s boy, forty-two years old or two years old, he still did whatever his mother told him.
“Thank you, Greg.” I jump on him and give him a big hug, but I didn’t want him to “choke” me like he always threatened to do, so I kept my distance.
Callie walked into the room just then. She knew something was up just by the look on our faces.
Callie and I are close, but, like Mase, she was not one I could have an adventure with. She was very down to earth. Nothing had an underlying meaning. It was all black and white. I guess with six children, and as the principal of a schoolhouse full of them too, she couldn’t really afford to lend to capriciousness.
She came over and stood behind the chair I was sitting in. Greg got up. I knew he wanted to make his exit before Callie started asking too many questions.
“What have you two got your heads together about?”
“Nothing, Callie, just talking to Justin.” Greg answered as he leaned over and picked up his napkin off the table.
Ah, our cover-up begins. I could feel the rush.
“Greg was telling me about some legal case he has where they have to exhume the body.” I decided to add to the deceit. “He thought I might be interested. I told him unless the guy had been cooking and making weapons for hunting while he was six feet under it was of no interest to me.”
“Justin!” Callie seemed surprise at me saying that. She knew how I loved my profession and was always defending it from Greg and Doobie’s cruel jokes. “I guess Mommy is right, ‘
association does bring on assimilation.’ Come on, we better get you away from Greg, you’re beginning to sound just like him.” As she ushered me out of the room I turned and winked at Greg. He winked back and smiled.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The day for Courtney to leave for school came so quickly. She had been accepted at Fisk University and planned to study Education, like Callie and Michael. Mase had to rent a trailer to hitch to the back of the car to take all the stuff my family bought her. There were so many things to see and do in Nashville that the five of us made a mini vacation out of it.
The campus was beautiful. Located on a hill overlooking downtown Nashville, the old, august buildings on campus had placed the University on the National Registry of Historic Landmarks. I told Courtney if she dyed her hair here like she did at home they would arrest her for defacing a living history. I helped Courtney pick out her classes and get registered. We all helped her unpack and set up her room.
After that, she was ready for us to go. But before we left for home me, Mase, Micah and Logan visited local museums, Opryland and the Music Valley Wax Museum of the Stars. I didn’t enjoy it as much as everyone else, though. I cried as we left the campus, left Nashville, left Tennessee, and when we drove up in the driveway at home. I really was going to miss my child. I slept in Courtney’s room that night.
I was soon over that, though. October couldn’t come fast enough. Claire acted like a kid in a candy store she was so happy to go with me. She just knew we were going to solve the whole mystery and that I would be famous afterwards. She trusted me completely, which as I’m sure Greg would note, doesn’t say much for Claire.
And, Claire was excited about the seminar, too. She got to do what she loved and help me, too. According to Claire nothing could be better. When I called to make the arrangements for her to attend the seminar they said, “Oh, Dr. Jackson, very good, we’ll be looking forward to having her.” It’s like they knew Claire or something. When I mentioned it to her she said, “They should know me, I’m pretty special.” Who knew what that meant? ‘Special’ as in mentally challenged? Because that I could agree with. I know that she has been invited to colleges and seminars as a guest lecturer, but who could ever imagine Claire could say anything worthwhile? I made a mental note to go with her next time she spoke so I could hear for myself.
Me, Greg and Claire pretty much ran our own show and could take off from work without any problem. Michael’s vacation time was during the summer, so he had to call in sick. Claire could write him a medical excuse when we got back. I paid for Michael’s trip. I didn’t want him taking off from work and paying out of his pocket, too, for my conspiracy theory.
I told my assistant, Nichelle, that I was going to Israel, but left strict instructions not to tell anyone, especially Dr. Margulies. I hated not telling the truth to Dr. Margulies. But I didn’t want him to think I was being foolish.
Was I being foolish?
Well, we would soon find out. I figured once I found out what was going on, then I would present all the evidence (Greg told me that) to Dr. Margulies. Then he would be willing to go after those ‘history destroyers.’
The research seminar, The Effects of Altering the Peptide Bond Sequence in Immunotherapy, whatever that meant, was from October third to the tenth. It was at the Scopus Campus where the journals were kept.
Claire left for Jerusalem on the first, a week before me, Greg and Michael. She was being quite the detective and reasoned that she would have extra time to find out what she could before we got there. She said it wouldn’t look so suspicious for her to arrive early and poke around. Now, if only Greg turned out to be that helpful.
I finally spoke to Ghazi again. He tried to assure me that he had been legitimately sent away on business and that everything was okay. I told him of my plans to come back to Jerusalem. He told me he was willing to help us anyway he could. So, I had him pick up Claire from the airport. Even though Claire made friends easily wherever she went, I felt much more comfortable knowing that she wouldn’t be there not knowing anyone. After all, I was the reason she was there in the first place. If anything happened to her, I wouldn’t ever forgive myself. I knew Ghazi wouldn’t let her out of his sight.
We arrived in the middle of the week and three days before the seminar ended. I figured that should be enough time since there would be five of us, including Ghazi, to find the other journals. And with Claire gathering information the week before we got there, I was sure it would be easy sailing.
When we arrived in Jerusalem, Claire was standing waiting for us at the gate. She had a huge smile on her face and hugged us like she hadn’t seen us in years.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as we headed toward the baggage claim area. “I thought you were going to wait for us at the hotel.”
She hooked her arm through mine and whispered, “They’ve moved the book.”
“The book?” I questioned. Then I realized what she was saying. “You mean the journal?” I asked in disbelief. She nodded slowly, her eyes opened wide. True to her word, she had already been playing the detective.
“Moved it? Moved it where?”
“I don’t know.” She hunched her shoulders.
Okay, so not a very good detective.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” We had come all this way and no journal. Greg was going to kill me. And, this confirmed my suspicions. Now, I knew there was something going on.
“How do you know they moved it?” I asked.
“Because it’s not there.”
“Not where?” I needed to find out if she remembered exactly what I told her, she is so easily confused.
“Where you told me it was.”
“Where did I tell you it was, Claire?”
“The corner office on the second floor, with the big mahogany -”
“Oak. Mahogany is a dark wood.”
“Yeah. Oak door with 204 next to it.”
“The door was a light wood, not dark, right?” Maybe she hadn’t gone to the right place.
“Yeah, light colored, and anyway, Ghazi showed me, he would know exactly where to go.”
“You’re right. So, go ahead.”
“Go ahead? Nothing more to tell,” she said. “The door was unlocked so I just walked in. The book was not there. The file cabinets were empty. The desk was empty. The only things in the room were the two file cabinets, a coat rack, a desk with a lamp on it, and a chair.”
What could they have done with it? I was starting to get really upset and nervous. “Maybe they knew who you were and that you were there to help me?” I looked at Claire, she raised her eyebrows. She didn’t have a clue either.
“I wish I could figure out what’s going on.”
“What’s in it Justin?” Claire asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered. My stomach was beginning to tie up in knots. “That’s why we are all here. So I can find out what’s in the journals.”
“Well, you saw some of it, right?”
“Yeah, just the part I told you about.” This was killing me. I had stopped walking and was just standing there looking at Claire.
“Come on you two.” Greg yelled and got our attention. He and Michael had gotten ahead of us. “Michael and I already got our luggage, yours too, Justin. C’mon, let’s get a taxi and get to the hotel. I need a shower and some food.”
We took a Sherut, which is a Mercedes limo. One look at the Mercedes emblem and Greg was feeling right at home. He was always one for class, with his closet full of three-buttoned silk suits and eight hundred dollar Italian leather shoes, Egyptian cotton French cut shirts, and a collection of expensive cars. The Mercedes, especially as a taxi, was right up his alley. He sat in front. Michael, Claire and I sat in the back.
I whispered to Claire, “Don’t tell Greg about this. We’ll have to figure something out.”
“Tell Michael. He’ll help you figure out what to do.”
“Yeah, okay. But not when Greg’s around, okay?” She
nodded. “This is really upsetting to me. I don’t know what to do.”
“We’ll come up with something,” she assured me.
“Yeah, but what?”
We looked at each other. I really didn’t know what to do. And I knew Claire didn’t either. I had this feeling of hopelessness. Plus, I was getting scared. If Greg found out that we had come all this way and no journals - - he really would choke me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jerusalem, Israel
It was taking forever to get to the hotel. The awe and wonder I experienced just a month or so ago traveling this route wasn’t there. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window and just stared out.
“So, what am I going to do now?” I only meant to think it but I said it out loud. Evidently too loudly.
Claire nudged me, she placed her index finger up to her lips and said “Shhh,” and pointed to Greg.
“Okay, okay,” I lowered my voice. “Maybe Ghazi knows something. Have you talked to him about this?” He was always on top of things, maybe he could help.
“Yes,” she said dreamingly, placing her hand over her chest.
“Yeeessss,” I mimicked her gestures and response. “What does that mean?”
“I think he’s kind of salacious.”
I laughed at her. “Do you even know what that word means?” She couldn’t have realized what she was saying.
Greg looked back at the two of us. “What are you two talking about back there?” he asked accusingly. We both just giggled. Greg rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Michael, you better watch those two.”
I looked at Greg. I suppose I shouldn’t make him angry with me and Claire. When he finds out about the journals being missing, he’ll be upset enough. I had him fly half way around the world for nothing.
“Okay. So, you talked to Ghazi? What did he say?” I whispered. “Did you two talk about the missing journals?”
“Yes.” She didn’t say anything else.
“And? Come on now. Don’t make me have to ask you every detail. Just tell me the whole conversation. What did he say?”
In the Beginning: Mars Origin I Series Book I Page 8
