He examined the woman’s body in front of him. It was hovering just above the bottom, arms and legs outstretched and relaxed, fingers trailing in the sand, and still leaking profusely. She was quite obviously dead. He immediately wondered if there were sharks in the remains of the harbor. No reason why not, he thought, and levitated himself smartly out of the ashlar canyon to go find Judith and the tour guide. He kicked hard to get over to the shipwreck where they were still kneeling down on the bottom, sifting the sandy bottom with their fingers, apparently looking for artifacts. He reached the guide and made the emergency/distress signal, then the follow-me signal. Once the guide saw the woman’s body down between the massive breakwater stones, she went right to the surface and popped a signaling device.
* * *
An hour later David and Judith were in a police van parked on the beach, talking to two detectives, while the crew of an Israeli navy launch retrieved the unfortunate woman’s body from the harbor. All the other excursions in the harbor had been canceled. While waiting for the cops to arrive, David had tried to make sense of what had happened down there. Had the killer been hunting him, specifically, or was he some kind of terrorist who just wanted to shoot a tourist? A bang-stick was a one-shot device—once he’d fired it, the killer could no longer do anything to David unless he wanted to get into an underwater knife fight. He’d done the next best thing—ripped David’s face mask off, which then gave him time to swim away. As the detectives approached, David thought fast. His whole plan to go back to Masada would be in jeopardy if he told the cops that it looked as if he had been the intended victim. He’d decided to leave that little bit of information out when he told the cops what he’d seen.
Man in a black wet suit, swimming above me. Waved like any other tourist. I waved back. I was down on the bottom, looking at the big breakwater stones, which form a sort of canyon down there. Next thing I know there’s a woman in front of me, and we bump into each other. Then she looks over my shoulder and—bang! It all happened in deep shadow between two enormous blocks of stone. The bang-stick was probably a 12-gauge, since it didn’t have a long pole on it, and then he ripped off my face mask. That’s what I saw.
You recognized this bang-stick, as you call it?
Sure; I’ve never used one, but I’ve seen the training videos. Used to protect yourself from an aggressive shark.
The two detectives asked him to go through it all again, then told him to remain in the area while they went to talk to the tour guide. David and Judith walked over to the seaside café nearby, where David ordered a brandy to steady his nerves. Judith hadn’t actually seen the woman’s body down between the giant stones, but she was still pretty upset at what had happened. They watched as the cops tried to get the attention of the recovery boat. They saw their tour guide in the back of the boat, and she looked just a little hysterical. A TV news-van crew was trying to talk its way through the entrance; they didn’t seem to be making much headway with the big cop at the gate.
“Well, didn’t this turn out to be a great date,” David said, shaking his head.
“Out of nowhere,” Judith said. “That’s a state park, the ancient harbor. How does an armed man just swim into a state park, with all those people around?”
“There were lots of people visiting the park. He could have been with the snorkel group, or he just came around the breakwater. That poor woman. Talk about wrong place, wrong time. God!”
He hadn’t told Judith that the man first threatened him with the bang-stick, and he wasn’t going to, either. He was beginning to think that it had been a threat, or otherwise he would never had the chance to turn around—the bang-stick was in contact before he even knew what was touching him. Judith was asking him something.
“You don’t think this was some kind of accident? An undersea hunter, shooting in the dark?”
“It wasn’t like a spear gun, where you shoot from a distance,” he said. “It was a bang-stick. First you have to press it against the predator’s skin—then you fire it. This was no accident. He meant to kill that woman.”
“Did the police say who she was?”
“A tourist is all they know right now,” he said, wanting another brandy but deciding not to have one. Their lovely outing had been ruined, and all he wanted to do was get the hell out of there. Like he’d told the cops, he’d never fired a bang-stick, but he’d seen a training video where a diver used one against a fifteen-foot tiger shark, giving it a shot to the gills. The huge creature had been killed instantly.
The detectives came back over to them from the beach and told David he could go back to his hotel. They cautioned him not to leave the country just yet as there might be more questions. Judith asked about the victim’s identity, but the cops just shrugged. A tourist, that’s all we know.
* * *
They got back to his hotel an hour and a half later, where David prepared to send Judith home in the hired car. She surprised him.
“You’ve had a bad shock,” she said. “You should not be alone just now. Let’s have Ari drive us around. We can go to the Carmel, where I grew up. It’s very pretty up there, and there are some interesting historical sites. The fortress of Acre is just beyond. You should definitely see that.”
The last thing David wanted to do was go sightseeing. He still wanted another brandy, and then he wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere. He couldn’t erase the way that guy had looked at him while pressing the bang-stick into his neck. The killing had been bad enough. That look had been even worse.
“Come on,” she insisted. “Ari, can you take us to Haifa?”
Ari gave David raised eyebrows, and he reluctantly nodded. Maybe she was right. Movement, activity, was probably better than being alone in the room, still seeing that horrible cloud.
They stopped for a late lunch up in Haifa, where he had a glass of wine and she actually ate lunch. Then she gave him a quick windshield tour of her hometown and the higher precincts of Mount Carmel. After that they went up the coast to the looming fortress of Acre. David had always thought that the fortified town right on the Mediterranean was a Crusader-era fortress, until he saw the plaque in the main entrance tunnel that listed the Conquerors of Acre, with one of the first ones being Ramses II. After a while, he got back into the groove and began paying attention to all the things she was showing him. They then spent a quiet trip back through late afternoon traffic on the coast highway, during which time she fell asleep on his shoulder.
* * *
David had been very glad he had hired the car and driver, because when they got to his hotel, she had suggested they go to dinner at a small place near her apartment in Jerusalem. He was more than amenable. He dropped off his diving gear, showered, and changed clothes, and then they went up to Jerusalem. When they got to her apartment, he quietly told Ari to pick him up at midnight. She changed, and they went out to a nearby restaurant and came back to her apartment a little after ten o’clock. She broke out a bottle of wine, and they sat out on the tiny balcony overlooking the garden enclosure. For a little while they simply sat there, not talking. David felt unusually comfortable doing just that, except for the residual horror at what had happened earlier in the day. He’d been squeezing it out of his mind all day.
“You were pleased with the restaurant?” she asked. He could see her face in the soft night light. Her dark eyes were luminous and concerned.
“Absolutely,” he said. “With one major exception, the whole day was delightful. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I haven’t done so many different things for … for a very long time.”
He heard the hesitation and realized that she was still on pretty shaky emotional ground even spending time with him. The tragedy in the harbor hadn’t helped. While he had been opening the bottle of wine and looking for glasses, she had touched up her makeup and refreshed her perfume. He was edified that she bothered, and very pleased to see that those dark shadows under her eyes had diminished, but knew
better than to make any physical moves, much as he wanted to. He did not want to admit to her how badly the incident at the harbor had scared him. More than that, however, he was grappling with an overwhelming urge to tell her what he’d found on the mountain.
“It will come,” he said quietly, not looking directly at her. A man’s voice rose in argument somewhere below them, answered quickly by a woman’s angry retort.
“Ah, marital bliss,” he said with a smile, and she laughed. They went silent again as the argument got louder; then a door was slammed and the drama ended. They’d had the TV on earlier to see if there was news of the incident. The broadcast was, of course, in Hebrew, but Judith said they were calling it a spear-fishing accident. The TV was muted now, but light from the screen was flickering against the windows.
“I have a confession to make,” she said. He turned his head to look at her.
“I have not made love with a man since Dov died. When I was with you, today, at Caesarea, I suddenly wanted to. Make love, I mean. My body ambushed me, I think.” She stopped then, and he saw that she thought she had embarrassed herself.
“But?” he asked gently.
“But,” she repeated, “my thinking mind was shocked. I felt so very guilty, as if my body had betrayed me into thinking impure thoughts.”
He smiled at her in the darkness. “I have to say that those are not necessarily bad thoughts.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it that way,” she said all in a rush, her hand at her mouth. “I mean, it wasn’t—I didn’t mean that you—”
He put up his hand. “I know, Judith. This isn’t about me. I find you extremely attractive. I think you know that. And of course, I would like to make love with you. What man wouldn’t? But I would be astonished if you just hopped into bed with anyone right now, me or anyone else.”
She sipped some wine, unable to meet his eyes. “This is so embarrassing,” she said. “I can’t believe I said that.”
“Look,” he said, “we’re grown-ups, right? We’re not two college kids trying to figure out who makes the first move. I like you. I like being with you. You’re easy on the eyes, and you’re smarter than I am. For me that’s a very appealing combination. I’m satisfied to spend time with you and let whatever will happen just happen. So you relax, okay? Be yourself. I’ll be myself. For right now, that’s good enough.”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “Thank you, Mr. Hall.”
“Thank you, David.”
“Yes, okay. David.”
Then he asked her what lay ahead in her career at the university, and she began to talk again. It gave him time to quell his own tumbling thoughts. Leading her on like this, he was beginning to feel like a true jerk. He had meant it when he said he would like to make love, but he knew that as long as he was lying to her about what he was really up to, that wasn’t going to happen, no matter what she did. He was using her and on another level, abusing her growing trust. He had to think of a way to break this off. No, you need her for the endgame, he reminded himself. Now someone had threatened to kill him, and he didn’t dare tell anyone. He was beginning to think that he had vastly overestimated his James Bond skills. Shit!
You have to tell her, the voice in his head declared. You have to.
“Where did you go, Mr. David Hall?”
Startled, he looked over at her. He hadn’t realized she’d stopped talking. “Is there any more wine?” he asked, stalling for time.
“Certainly,” she said, giving him a perplexed look before getting up to fetch another bottle. She came back, refilled his glass, and sat back down. Given that he was about to come clean, he wondered if they should move inside to the living room to spare the neighbors some reciprocal noise.
“Now I have a confession to make,” he said finally. He was glad that it was fully dark now. He didn’t want her to see his embarrassment.
“Oh, dear, now what?” she asked with a wan smile.
He drank some more wine. “I’ll tell you on one condition,” he said. “You say nothing until I’m finished. Then if you want to yell at me, you can.”
“Why on earth would I want to—oh, no, not the Metsadá business again?”
He held up his hand. “Hear me out. Please.”
Her smile faded. His heart sank. Oh, well, he thought, in for a penny, in for a pound.
“It begins with Adrian, the woman who started all this, who fired up my desire to come here, to go to Metsadá. You remember the story I told at the first meeting? About her theories concerning the Zealots?”
She nodded.
“That wasn’t quite true,” he said. He sipped some more wine while trying to assemble his thoughts. Incongruously, a bird began warbling its song from one of the trees below.
“That the Kanna’im had escaped the mountain?” she asked. “Regrouped somewhere else?”
“Yes. Her theory was actually this: They chose suicide not to spite the Romans but to keep a secret. To protect something hidden there.”
She sighed. “Oh, Mr. Hall,” she said. “You are telling me you’re just another treasure hunter after all?”
He couldn’t think of anything to say.
She put down her own wineglass. “This is not exactly an original theory, you know,” she said. “People have been looking up on that mountain for years. Decades, even. Archaeologists looking for evidence of nine hundred sixty skeletons somewhere. Treasure hunters looking for the gold described in the Scrolls. The results are always the same: There’s nothing there. Nothing but the mountain and the myth.”
He lost his nerve. She was too much the skeptic about the entire story. Hell with it, he decided. He was in too deep now to turn back. He’d make the dive. If there was nothing in the cistern, then there was no point in making a fool of himself now by telling her about the cistern in the first place, or how he’d found it.
“Mr. Hall?”
“Sorry. It just seemed so plausible.”
“Is that the reason you went up there at night? You were looking for treasure?”
He nodded. “It wasn’t the only reason. I did want to get a feel for the place and contemplate the history. The myth, as you call it.”
“Not just me, Mr. Hall. Most professional archaeologists would call that story a myth. Until someone finds real evidence, it will remain a myth.”
“Won’t find it if no one is looking,” he said.
“It’s been two thousand years,” she said. “If someone finds a cave with nine hundred sixty skeletons, then, yes, we will all look a little foolish.”
Right now, I’m the one looking a little foolish, he thought. He looked at his watch and began making as graceful an exit as he could manage. He got out his rented cell phone and texted Ari to bring the car up.
They stood by the doorway as he waited for the car. Kiss the pretty girl good night? He looked into her large, dark eyes and saw the expectation. He kissed her then, lightly, tentatively even, and then again with a little more feeling. She broke it off after a few moments and smiled at him as she opened the door.
“Good night, Mr. Treasure Hunter,” she said.
“Can I see you again?” he asked, surprising himself.
She cocked her head to one side. “You are not yet officially shot down, David Hall. We shall see.”
* * *
As Ari drove him back to his hotel, David wondered if this whole project wasn’t getting a bit out of hand. The incident in the harbor had unsettled him, despite Judith’s all-day attempts to push it away. Would that guy have shot him if the woman hadn’t blundered into the frame? Had one of Israel’s many security organs deduced what he was up to? He’d found the cistern that no one knew about—was that enough? Why make a very dangerous dive into a black hole? Why not simply tell Judith and let the experts do it right?
He became aware of headlights behind them as they went down the winding highway back to Tel Aviv. It looked like the other car had his high beams on.
“We being followed, Ari?” he asked the
driver.
“Some asshole with his bright lights on,” Ari grumbled. “I will slow down, make him pass.”
Ari began reducing speed on the four-lane, and after a minute or so the other vehicle swung out and went past. David could see that it was some kind of nondescript van. He half expected a window to come down and bullets to start flying, but the van disappeared around the next bend in the road as Ari resumed highway speed.
Getting a little paranoid here, David thought. He turned around to look out the rear window and saw another set of headlights behind them, about a half mile back. This vehicle was on low beam. Was it a box trap being set up? He’d seen one in a movie, where the car ahead dropped back and the one behind sped up, and then the two of them pushed the target vehicle off the road and over a cliff. He looked sideways. There wasn’t a cliff, but there was a pretty deep ravine. He peered past Ari’s shoulder to see if he could spot the van, but there were no lights ahead as the road straightened out and the lights of the city hove into view ahead.
Get a grip, he thought. I’m gonna do it. I’m going to prove them all wrong about what happened long ago. Adrian might have dumped him after he got himself fired, but she had well and truly infected him with her unswerving belief in her theory. It was his theory now; nothing was going to stop him from validating it, one way or another.
“No traffic now,” Ari called out from the front seat. “Fifteen minutes, tops.”
20
He missed the turnoff onto the military road just north of the mountain, catching only a glimpse of it as he drove by in the darkness along the Dead Sea road. He slowed, stopped, turned off the headlamps, and then carefully turned around to find the entrance again. It was nearly 10:00 P.M., and he could just see the security lights of the hostel and tourist complex shining down onto the tour bus parking lot three miles down the road. He hoped no one had seen him coming.
The Last Man Page 26
