The Scroll Read online

  “You still with me, Abram?”

  “I’m still on the telephone, my friend, but I am not with you on this new focus.”

  “I’m sorry, Abram, but I’ve given it a great deal of thought. It is what I must do.”

  “Is it what you must do, or is it what you want to do?”

  Chambers rested his elbows on the desk. He didn’t want to have this conversation. “What’s the difference?”

  “I think you know.” There was an edge to Abram’s voice, nothing unkind, but Chambers could hear the disappointment draping his colleague’s words.

  “I don’t think you called just to scold me. What’s on your mind?”

  Another long pause. “It’s time to come back to the Holy Land.”

  “I don’t think so. My last trip was just that—my last trip.”

  “God wants you to return.”

  This time Chambers did laugh. “That’s odd. I didn’t get His memo.”

  The laughter wasn’t returned. “We need you, Dr. Chambers.”

  The formal “Dr. Chambers” told him Abram was serious. “There are scores of biblical archaeologists. You don’t need me. I’ve been lucky—”

  “Do not blaspheme, my friend. Luck has had nothing to do with it. HaShem has had His hand upon you from the beginning.”

  “If you say so, Abram. Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m moving on to other fields. I can recommend a few archaeologists who will do a good job for you.”

  “I want you, my friend.”

  Chambers stood as if Abram could see him do so. “Why? Why me?”

  “Because no one understands the tunnels beneath Jerusalem like you.”

  “There are plenty of people who know about such things.”

  “But not like you, my friend. You have made the discoveries. You know the topography like no other. It was you who found the ancient clay seals of King Hezekiah’s officials: Ahimelekh ben Amadyahu and Yehokhil ben Shahar.”

  “Names unknown to almost everyone. So what? That was a lifetime ago.”

  “Nonetheless, that find proved once again the accuracy and truth of the Tanakh.”

  “The Old Testament Scriptures have been shown historically accurate before. Those finds are nothing new.”

  That topic had been the primary cause for Chambers’s research. He had wanted to prove the Bible—both the Old Testament, what Abram called the Tanakh, and the New Testament—was accurate in every historical detail, and thereby prove its divine inspiration. He had helped achieve the first goal but lost all faith in the second.

  “The Copper Scroll.” That was all Abram said, and he said the words as if he were breathing a prayer. “Who knows more about the Copper Scroll than you?”

  “The Copper Scroll is not Scripture, Abram. You know that.”

  “No, but it will lead us to …” He paused as if the word had stuck in his throat.

  “Treasure?”

  “Yes, but not just historical treasures like most people think. These objects are history.”

  “You have your eyes set on finding the temple artifacts?”

  “Don’t you?” Abram’s sigh carried over the phone. “Once we sat in the cool of the evening and talked about what the scroll might lead us to.”

  “Good times, friend. Very good times.” Chambers could almost feel the breeze that pushed through the outdoor café as they sipped strong coffee and ate dates.

  “Indeed, my friend. I long for those days and those conversations again.”

  Chambers’s irritation slipped away. “Still, I don’t see how I can be of use to you. Others have sought the treasures and artifacts mentioned in the Copper Scroll. Very little has been found. I’m no magician. I can’t find what’s not there.”

  “It is there, and I think that together we can find those items. Think what it will mean to my people. Think what it will mean to history and science. Of all men, you have the greatest understanding of the ancient tunnel systems and the ancient topography.”

  Chambers closed his eyes. “Abram, my dear friend, I just don’t believe anymore.”

  “I have a grant, a grant that includes your school.”

  “Harvard?”

  “Yes. The dig will be the most challenging you’ve ever faced and promises to be the most rewarding.”

  “Abram, I don’t—”

  “Billions of dollars are at stake. David, this discovery may prove as great an archaeological find as Carter’s discovery of the Tutankhamun tomb.”

  Chambers tried to object but was stunned to realize that he couldn’t.

  “I am authorized by my government to offer you a substantial reward. I know you are a man of some wealth, but this will eclipse all of that. You would be financially independent, and you could fund your own future excavations.”

  Chambers couldn’t speak.

  “Please, my friend. One more trip. For me, for your university, for science, and for yourself.”

  Several minutes passed without conversation. Chambers appreciated the quiet Abram allowed him. Most likely, Abram believed that silence was better than rejection.

  Finally, Chambers spoke. “When?”

  Professor Abram Ben-Judah set the hand piece back in the phone’s cradle.

  A voice behind him said, “Will he do it?”

  Abram didn’t bother turning around. He knew who spoke. He also knew who else sat at the conference table.

  “He will come.”

  “You do not sound so sure of yourself.”

  Abram inhaled deeply. “I said he would come. He will come.”

  TWO

  April 29, 2013

  The Embraer Legacy 600 business jet entered its final approach with a steep bank to the left and set down at Republic Airport on Long Island.

  Republic Airport serviced many business travelers commuting in private jets. Since the airport allowed no commercial airlines, it was less crowded and much easier for pilots with impatient passengers.

  The moment the State of Israel’s private jet came to a stop, David Chambers stood and stretched his legs. The flight from Boston was short, just over an hour, but Chambers felt antsy. It had been thirty days since Abram Ben-Judah’s first call, and each day, Chambers had questioned his sanity. He had just made up his mind to leave behind biblical archaeology and the pain and fame it brought him, then an old friend called, and he folded like a card table. Well, that and the lure of a well-funded dig—and monetary reward.

  The stopover was to be short. Abram explained that a team member was in New York speaking at one of the universities. He would join Chambers on the flight to Tel Aviv. Abram didn’t give the man’s name and Chambers didn’t ask.

  Chambers arched his back and stretched the muscles. The short hop from Boston had been smooth and the hour passed quickly. It was the eleven-hour flight to Tel Aviv that concerned him. At least he wouldn’t be flying alone. Not that he minded being alone. Most days he preferred it. He had plenty to occupy his mind, but a little professional conversation couldn’t hurt.

  The pilot and copilot emerged from the cockpit over the long nose of the Brazilian-made aircraft. Both were short, thin men, as if small stature were a requirement for private pilots.

  “Can I get you anything, Dr. Chambers?” The captain, identified by the four gold stripes on his epaulets and the gray hair that stuck out from beneath his cap, motioned to the small galley at the forward end of the compartment. “Beer? Wine? A bottled water perhaps?”

  “No thanks. I’m fine for now. How long will we be on the ground?”

  “Just a few minutes, sir. We have one passenger to pick up and a spare crewman. Did you want to disembark for a few minutes?”

  “No thanks. I’ll just pace here.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  The copilot opened the door and extended the metal stairs that slowly unfolded to the tarmac. A movement outside caught Chambers’s attention. A black late-model Lincoln Town Car pulled near the front of the aircraft. The small windows of the aircraf
t hindered his view, so Chambers moved to the open hatch. A man in a black chauffeur’s uniform exited the driver’s side and opened one of the rear doors. Without waiting, the driver went to the trunk and removed two large rolling suitcases and started for the stairs.

  The passenger was slow to emerge. So much so, Chambers had to move aside to let the chauffeur haul the bags up the stairs, where the copilot took them and stored them in the luggage compartment at the rear of the aircraft. Once the driver descended the stairs, Chambers returned to the door. The passenger had yet to emerge.

  Another vehicle—a restored ’56 T-bird—pulled onto the tarmac and stopped a short distance away. A woman was driving. Seated next to her was a thickly built man. Both exited, stepped to the front of the car, and kissed. Both wore slacks and coats to fend off the cool breeze.

  Chambers turned to the copilot. “Is that your other crewman?”

  The copilot looked over Chambers’s shoulder. “Yep.”

  “Wow, he has a great car.”

  “Yes, he does, but I think you’re confused. That’s Beth Clayderman. She’s the backup pilot.”

  “She is? I thought—never mind what I thought.”

  He watched as she stepped to the Town Car and looked in. He could see that she said something but was too distant to hear. She smiled and motioned to the business jet, then started forward. When she reached the stairs, she gave the pilot a friendly punch to the shoulder and bounded up the steps. As she did, she stripped away her coat, revealing the same white crew uniform the other pilots wore.

  Chambers stepped out of the way as she entered. “Hey, Chuck.” She shook the copilot’s hand. “Jake says we can flip a coin for second seat. You want to kick it for a while or take first shift?”

  “I got the seat adjusted for my muscular frame, so I’ll go first.”

  Beth laughed. “Muscular frame. That’s a good one.”

  “Hey, I been hitting the gym.”

  “Pumping aluminum, no doubt.”

  “You are a cruel woman, Beth. Just plain mean.”

  Chambers watched the friendly exchange. Beth turned to him. “You must be Dr. Chambers.”

  “Call me David.”

  “All right. I’m Beth Clayderman.”

  “So I hear.”

  She elevated an eyebrow but didn’t question the remark. “Just call me Beth. Is there anything I can get you?”

  “I’ve already been asked, but no thanks.”

  “What about our other passenger?” Chuck looked at his watch.

  Beth shrugged. “I think he’s on the phone.”

  As Beth hung up her coat, she hesitated and then swore. “I’ll be right back.”

  She raced down the stairs, then slowed when she saw her boyfriend standing by the car holding a leather overnight bag. She took it, gave him another lingering kiss, then jogged back to the aircraft.

  Moments later, she had stowed her bag and taken one of the front seats. The interior of the business jet was designed for comfort. Brown leather covered each seat, and a sofa ran along the left bulkhead. A teak table with a high-gloss finish was anchored in the middle of the passenger compartment. The rest room sported brass fixtures, marble counter, and a gold-trimmed mirror. A deep-blue carpet ran the aisle. Chambers had flown in a few business jets but nothing this well appointed.

  Chambers took a seat and gazed out the window. The chauffeur stood by the limo’s open door, then took a step back. A man emerged from the backseat: tall, straight in the spine, broad in the shoulders, dark skin, a thick black mustache, and head full of thick, curly black hair. He shook the chauffeur’s hand, then walked to where the pilot stood at the foot of the stairs.

  “You have got to be kidding.” Chambers closed his eyes.

  “Is there a problem, Dr. Chambers?” He recognized Beth’s voice.

  Chambers nodded. “Not for you.” He opened his eyes again. Beth was standing by his side.

  “I don’t understand. Did you forget something?”

  “No. I didn’t forget anything.”

  “I don’t understand the problem.”

  “That would be me, lovely lady.” Just inside the door stood the cause of Chambers’s frustration. “Hello, my good Dr. Chambers.”

  “Nuri. Why did it have to be you?”

  Nuri Aumann grinned. “Iron sharpens iron, David.”

  Beth frowned. “I take it you two know each other.”

  “Unfortunately we do.” Chambers focused on keeping his mouth shut.

  “It’s been two hours, David.” Nuri sat in front of Chambers. Like most corporate aircraft, the Embraer Legacy was designed to facilitate conversation, not keep passengers separate. Nuri’s seat faced the rear of the aircraft, while David’s faced forward. David had done his best not to make eye contact with his nemesis.

  “I’ll take your word for it, but it seems like only two weeks.”

  “I had heard that you had grown more somber and depressed since we last met.”

  “I’m not depressed; I’m just picky about my travel mates.”

  “See, we do have something in common. I don’t like traveling with you.”

  “That breaks my heart.”

  Nuri tugged at his mustache. Like many Middle Eastern men, he wore what Chambers’s father called a perpetual five o’clock shadow.

  “They did not tell me you would be the American on this project.”

  “They didn’t tell me about you. Or …”

  “Or what, David? You would have refused to come?”

  Chambers looked up. “That’s right. I tried to get out of this from the beginning.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Chambers shrugged. “Abram Ben-Judah is a friend. I feel like I owe him.”

  “Because he helped you get permission to dig where no one else was allowed?”

  The sound of Nuri’s voice grated on Chambers’s nerves. “I earned those rights by hard work and superior research.”

  “And grant money. You had access to better grant money.”

  “That didn’t hurt.”

  “So you told Ben-Judah no.”

  “At first.”

  “At first. Yet here you are.”

  “You see, that’s what makes you such a great scientist, Nuri. You have the ability to state the obvious as if you’ve made an important discovery.”

  “Scuttlebud has it that you have left biblical archaeology.”

  “It’s scuttlebutt, Nuri, not scuttlebud. And you heard right.”

  Nuri stiffened. “There are a few Hebrew words I could teach you.”

  “No doubt. Did Ben-Judah talk about me?”

  He shrugged. “Archaeology is a small and tightly connected universe. Archaeologists talk about other archaeologists all the time. You know that.

  “It’s nice to know people are thinking of me.”

  Nuri scoffed. “I repeat: you quit your science, and yet here you are.”

  Chambers straightened. “I didn’t leave my science. I’m still an archaeologist; I still teach; I still lecture and publish. I’m just changing focus.”

  “To what?”

  Chambers pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been thinking about the Olmecs—”

  Nuri erupted in laughter, his deep voice rolling up and down the cabin. “The Olmecs. Mexican Indians? Surely you joke.”

  “They predate the Spanish influence. If you were any kind of scholar, you’d know that.”

  “And the Olmecs, they have changed the world how?”

  “There is a great deal of mystery about them and the influence they had on other Mesoamerican people groups—”

  “You would trade the history of the Jews and Arabs in the heartland of the world for that? All of this because of a woman?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chambers turned away, his jaw tense enough to shatter teeth.

  “I am not the only one saying it, my friend. It is common knowledge. Your discovery of Herod’s tunnel is what other archaeologi
sts dream of, yet you walk away shortly after you reveal it to the world.”

  “I left it in good hands.”

  “The point is, David, you left it. Period.”

  “What is it you want, Nuri?”

  Nuri leaned forward, invading Chambers’s space. “What do I want, you ask? I will tell you, David. I want to know why you are here. Why did you agree to this expedition if your heart is not in it?”

  “I told you. Abram—”

  “I do not believe you are that accommodating, David. Maybe in your early career you were but not now. You have another goal, don’t you?”

  “What if I do?”

  “It is time for honesty, Dr. Chambers. We will be working together whether we like it or not. I want to know where you stand. We owe each other honesty. It’s the scroll, isn’t it?”

  “Abram mentioned the scroll and wants my expertise.”

  “The scroll?”

  Chambers looked up to see Beth standing nearby.

  “Excuse me?” Chambers asked.

  “I’ve tried to take a little nap, but there are a couple of men on the plane arguing. Since I can’t sleep, maybe I can learn something.”

  Chambers couldn’t tell whether she was sincere or not. “I apologize. We’ll try to control our volume.”

  “I too apologize, my dear lady. We archaeologists are a hot-blooded people.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Are you really interested in the scroll, or are you just trying to head off any violence on your plane?”

  “Both. I have an hour before I relieve the captain, and I might as well learn something.”

  Chambers popped his safety belt and stood. “Let’s sit around the table. I’ll be right back. I need to get something.”

  He turned and walked the aisle past the four seats situated around a low table, past the sofa, past the bathroom, and into the rear baggage area. The compartment was large enough to hold luggage for fourteen passengers. Chambers retrieved a well-worn, soft-sided leather briefcase, then returned to the others.

  Nuri sat opposite Beth. Chambers chose the seat next to her.

  “This should be good,” Nuri said.

  “You are free to leave the aircraft anytime you like.”

  Beth shook her head, pursed her lips, then said in a hard, don’t-mess-with-me tone, “I’m telling you, gentleman, we have handcuffs on board, and I know how to use them.”