Eight Days to Live (39 page)

Jane sat up straight on the couch. “And?”

His lips tightened. “Come and see for yourself.” He turned on his heel and went back into the bedroom.

“Very curt,” Jock said. “Too bad Caleb isn’t here to give him an attitude adjustment.”

“I don’t care how polite he is,” Jane said as she got to her feet. “As long as he did his job.” She moved toward the bedroom. “Let’s go see what he came up with.”

“I’ll have a picture for you in a minute.” Tischler was arranging one of three cameras he had surrounding the small pedestal on which the bottle sat. “The interior of the bottle will be projected on the computer monitor over there on the wall. It’s probably not exactly what you want, but I won’t expose the contents in the bottle to air without proper precautions. The writ is probably goatskin leather instead of papyrus, or it wouldn’t have survived. If it had been plant-based papyrus, it would have disintegrated already. I’m not risking it.”

“You said that before,” Jane said. “I never asked you to open the bottle. That’s why you’re here.”

He gave her a cool glance. “No, you didn’t ask, but I know with whom I’m dealing. I had no idea what was in that bottle when they told me to come here. I was only pressed by the prime minister to cooperate with the CIA because Israel needs United States
good-will. We need everyone’s goodwill if we’re going to survive the next decade.”

She ignored the coldness and leaped on the inference in that second sentence. Excitement was zinging through her. “But now you’re able to tell what it is?”

He didn’t answer directly. “You and your CIA really care nothing about history or religion. This discovery is probably going to end up as just another chess piece. It doesn’t matter that this find could prove of gigantic importance to the religions of the world.”

“It matters.” Jane stared him in the eye. “But life means more to me. If this chess piece will save a life I value, I’m not about to let you take it to your lab to study and publish all your erudite findings in journals. Can you guarantee that if you take this back to your university, it won’t become just another reason for your government and the Palestinians to try to blow each other up? We took that bottle from Palestinian-held territory.”

“Which should have been our territory.” He looked at her defiantly for an instant, then his gaze wearily shifted back to the monitor. “There are no guarantees. Not in this world. The deaths never seem to stop.”

“Then tell me what’s in that bottle.”

“I’ll let you see it.” He turned on the machine and adjusted the focus. “The difficulty was fine-tuning so that I could see both outside and inside the pouch with the flick of the button.”

A grayish haze appeared on the wall.

He sharpened and zoomed in, and the haze began to take a defined shape. A crumpled cloth container at the bottom of the bottle.

The pouch?

“There’s a document of some sort on the other side of the pouch.” Tischler revolved the picture and focused on what appeared to be a piece of rolled leather. “As you can see, it was apparently crammed
carelessly into the bottle. It wasn’t even rolled properly, the writing is on the outside instead of protected on the inside of the scroll.”

Jane could see that, but the leather was cracked, the writing was smeared and almost indistinguishable. She couldn’t make out anything. Not that I would have been able to decipher it anyway, she thought ruefully. “It’s ancient Aramaic?”

“Yes, the temple priests were practically the only ones who used Hebrew, but they often were forced to use Aramaic when dealing with commoners like the potter, who couldn’t read Hebrew.” He made another adjustment. “It’s damaged, but the protection of the bottle itself and being buried in the clay kept it in better shape than I would have thought. But it would take months to be able to decipher the entire document.”

Her gaze flew to his face. “You’d be able to do it?”

“With time and care and the right technology. Yes, I could do it.” He looked at her. “But you’re not interested in a complete translation, are you? That’s not what you want.”

“And what do you think I want, Professor?”

He zeroed the camera in on a wrinkled upper corner of the document. “I think this is why you brought me here.”

She looked at him in bewilderment. “If this is supposed to be some great dramatic revelation, it’s not working. I can’t read the damn thing.”

He zeroed in a little more toward the edge of the folded scroll and hit the laser. “This word is a name.” He paused. “Judas.”

She inhaled sharply. “
Yes
.”

“Of course, it could be another Judas. It’s not as if there weren’t other men named Judas during that time period.” He pointed the laser again. “But we can see two other Aramaic equilvalent letters before it reaches the fold. “I and S.”

Judas Iscariot.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Tischler asked sarcastically. “You can see how it caught my attention.”

“And made you angry.”

He shrugged. “I always seem to be angry these days. Angry and sad.” He added, “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll increase the depth of field so that you can look in the pouch.”

“You’ve already seen what’s inside?” Jock asked.

He nodded as he pressed the button to show them the interior of the pouch. “Coins.”

Jane stared at the coins. They were discolored, oxidized, with just a hint of the original silver, none of them impressive. No one would guess that there was anything unusual or valuable about them.

“Are they Shekels of Tyre?”

“Oh, yes.”

“How can you tell?” Jock asked.

“They’re very identifiable,” Jane said. “One side has a laureate head of a man with a lion skin around his neck. The reverse side has an eagle with a palm-frond background.” She glanced at Tischler. “But they’re so discolored, I’m asking the same question. How can you tell?”

“It’s not as bad as it could have been. The brass stopper and being buried kept it almost airtight.” Tischler pointed his laser light at the coins. “First we select, magnify, then we zero in.” The image gradually grew larger and larger until it filled the wall. It was dark but distinguishable. “The noble laureate head of Melquart.”

Jane inhaled sharply.

He switched to another coin. “This one is turned on its side in the bottle.”

The eagle.

“The palm is partially blackened on it, but there’s a plus. See the two symbols to the left of the eagle? That indicates the year
130 in the Phoenician calendar, the Era of Tyre. That’s four or five A.D., squarely in the right time period.” He ran the laser over the stack of coins. “As you can see, they’re jumbled up, some on their sides. It took me a while to count them. But evidently Matthew was wrong. There were only twenty-eight shekels of silver.”

“He wasn’t wrong. The potter, Ezra, gave two to his slave, Dominic, after he freed him.”

Tischler’s brows rose. “You wouldn’t care to tell me how you know that?”

“Not now. But I will,” Jane said. “If you’ll do one more thing for me.”

“What is that?”

“Is it possible for you take photos of both the document and the coins?”

He nodded. “Of course, it’s possible. I brought the equipment to do it. I fully intended to make records.” He paused, “Whether or not you or the CIA liked it.”

“I do like it. Take all the photos you like for your own files,” Jane said. “I want photos of the coins, and I need shots as clear as you can make it of that text.”

“Very well.” He hesitated, then said belligerently, “It won’t only be for my own files. I’m going to go to the prime minister and report to him.”

“We can’t let you do that,” Jock said.

“You can’t stop me.”

“Oh, but I can,” Jock said softly.

“But he won’t,” Jane said hurriedly. “All we want is your promise to wait until after the first of April. After that, we don’t care who you talk to about the Judas bottle.”

He didn’t answer.

Lord, he was stubborn, she thought. Give him something else.
“And I swear that I’ll come back and tell you what this is all about when I can do it safely for everyone concerned. If I can, I’ll even let you publish your findings.”

Tischler frowned, then finally said, “You’re only asking me to wait one day. I suppose it wouldn’t be irresponsible to wait.”

“No, not at all. When can I have the photos? And could you put them on my phone camera?”

He nodded. “I believe I could. Leave your phone and give me forty-five minutes.”

She put her phone down on the bedside table and turned toward the door. “Thank you, Professor Tischler.”

He didn’t answer, his gaze narrowed on the screen.

“Do you think he’ll keep his word?” Jock asked as he closed the door behind them.

“I don’t know. I hope he will. If he doesn’t, we’ll cope with the fallout later. I won’t have him hurt or even intimidated. There have been too many innocent people who have suffered because of those coins.”

Jock nodded. “I’m not arguing. It’s your call.”

And the decisions were becoming more and more terrifying. “Do you know, I don’t believe I actually thought the coins would be in that bottle. I followed the directions. I dug in that damn clay. And yet part of my mind wouldn’t accept that . . .” She shook her head. “I’m still not accepting that we found Hadar’s bottle. It seems impossible.”

“There are many stories in the Bible that seem impossible. The Bible is founded on wonder and miracles. Actually, everything in Hadar’s Tablet is fairly believable. Ugly, but that adds to the veracity. And, after all this trouble we’ve gone through, you’d better accept it.”

“I’m working on it.” She grimaced. “But the important thing is to make Roland accept it.”

TISCHLER CAME OUT OF THE
bedroom fifty minutes later and handed her phone back to her. “It came out fairly clear. I was surprised it was that good.” He paused. “I’ll pack up my equipment and get out of here. You’re sure you wouldn’t consider letting me take the bottle back to the university?”

She shook her head. “But I promise I won’t damage it by opening the bottle and exposing it to air.”

“I won’t risk it. I’m going to leave a small portable metal container with you. It’s got an oxygen gauge. I’ll put the bottle in the container. All you have to do is press the button and it will take out the oxygen and keep the container airtight.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m trying to preserve a precious historical artifact from being destroyed.” He turned and started back toward the bedroom. “Besides the fact that you appealed to my curiosity, and I’m taking a chance that you’ll keep your word.”

“I’ll keep it,” she said absently, already accessing the photo on her cell phone.

He was right. The photos were amazingly clear. He had given her two of the script on the scroll and one of the coins themselves.

She handed the phone to Jock. “We got lucky. They’re astonishing.”

His lips curved in a faint smile as she gazed at the photos. “You might say almost miraculous, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ll take a miracle or two.” She took the phone back. “Now all I have to do is convince Roland that he should—”

Her cell phone rang.

Private number.

She tensed, then punched the button.

“I’ve been very eager to talk to you, bitch.” The man’s voice was mocking. “And I’m sure you’ve been waiting for my call with bated breath.”

“Millet?”

“You guessed. I thought you would. I had to keep myself from calling you before this. You’ve caused me a good deal of trouble, and I wanted to vent. But then I told myself wait, anticipate, let the bitch suffer. I took a great deal of pleasure thinking how frantic you must be about your Eve Duncan.”

“How is she? How badly is she hurt?”

“Not too badly. Yet. But I plan on entertaining myself with her after I hang up. She may be in considerably worse shape by the time the two of you are reunited.”

“Don’t hurt her.”

“But I must. Still, there’s a possibility that she could live if we could come to an agreement.”

“You’re talking about a trade.”

“Consider the situation. Look at all the innocent people that you’ve forced me to kill just so that you could keep on living. Do
you want me to have to kill Eve Duncan? You know you’ve sinned. You may even be forgiven if you give yourself as the Offering.”

“I haven’t forced you to do anything. If you weren’t totally unbalanced, you’d realize that you’re the sinner. Murder is the ultimate sin, Millet.”

“I’m beginning to tire of talking to you. I think I’ll seek other amusement. Do you wish to speak to your Eve before I take her away?”

And she knew what that amusement would be. “Don’t hurt her. I’ll consider a trade. You can’t expect me to jump at the chance of having you stick your knife in me.”

“That’s not good enough. I don’t have time to let you hem and haw before you give in to the inevitable. The members mustn’t have a major disappointment at the last moment. I have to make preparations. Six hours from now, I’m going to send out a message to them either confirming that you’ll be the Offering or announcing a new sacrifice. I’ll give you those six hours, and no more, for you to tell me that you’re going to pay for your sins. After that, I’ll announce to the members that Eve Duncan will be the Offering.” He added, “They won’t be as pleased as having you, but she has a certain notoriety that will make the sacrifice titillating. It’s always exciting to bring down a star in any field. The most popular Offerings are always the rich, the famous, the brightest. You didn’t answer me. Do you wish to speak to Eve Duncan?”

“Of course, I do.”

“I’m turning up the volume so that you can share every precious word with me,” Millet said.

The next moment, Eve came on the line. “You know that I don’t want you to give in to this monster. I’ll work it out.”

“No, we’ll work it out. How is your wound? Did they change the bandage?”

“No, but I’ll survive. Stop fretting, Jane.”

“Fretting? I’m not
fretting
. I’m scared to death. I never dreamed that I’d get you into this mess.” She paused. “Though even if I
had
dreamed it, I wouldn’t know enough to get you out. I don’t know where you are, how to get to you. I feel helpless, Eve. Like I did when I was a kid, and I’d come running to you to make everything all right.”