Читать книгу The 13th Apostle - Richard Heller - Страница 15

A few minutes later

The top floor of CyberNet Forensics shuddered with the combined boom of two televisions and a radio. On-screen reporters offered details on the latest disasters against a background of country music.

Since George had come on board, two finance people who had been working in rooms adjacent to his office had been moved to other locations. Another had taken a leave without pay until the company could relocate him to a lower floor, and one of the bookkeepers had just up and quit.

Management had changed the location of George’s office twice before exiling him to the far end of the longest hall in the building. George couldn’t have been happier. The huge man simply could not bear to work in silence. Even normal levels of noise were not enough. Surrounding himself in the clamor was not a mere idiosyncrasy, it was a necessity. And one that afforded him some extra perks.

“What can I say?” admitted George with a devilish grin, when the last person on the floor finally fled. “It leaves all that extra space just for me.”

Gil approached the office and steeled himself for an even greater rush of sensory overload; a few minutes of audio abuse was all he could endure. He had given up on asking George to turn down the volume. His request always met with George’s self-analysis: “News, computers, and country music. Them’s all I know, them’s all I love.”

Gil knocked and, without waiting, walked in on the all-too-familiar scene of George stuffing his face with food.

This morning, the big guy was polishing off the last of his high-fiber breakfast cereal. It was a daily ritual that never seemed to make any difference in his health, weight, or, as George so often explained in far too much detail, his regularity.

Gil entered. George did his best to rise to his feet. He looked as if he had been caught doing something quite obscene. In the ensuing confusion of dislodging his bulk from his rolling chair, George overturned his plastic bowl and spoon. The remainder of the soggy cereal and a half-opened container of low-fat milk flowed over the jumbled spread of computer printouts that were strewn across his desk amid research reports, memos, graphs, and journals that lay one on top of the other. All became potential blotters for the fast-spreading white liquid. In a half-hearted attempt to contain George’s most recent food-spill disaster, Gil reached below the soggiest section of paper and lifting it, turned toward the trashcan. George tripped over himself in an attempt to stop him.

Gil shook his head. “Why do you do this?”

“Do what, eat cereal?” George asked. He flashed Gil what was supposed to pass for an endearing smile and attempted to sop up the milk with a single paper napkin.

“I’m serious. This is nuts. You probably have two weeks’ worth of downloads here from every crackpot website in the world.”

“I know, but I haven’t had time to go over them yet. I spend a lot of time researching this stuff, you know, and some of it could be really important.”

Gil shook his head.

“You might be interested to know I’ve been saving one of these downloads for you!” George added.

Foraging through the pile, George carefully extracted one set of papers that had not escaped the sludge of cereal and milk.

“It’s about your Ludlow job…” George began.

“Look, about Ludlow. I think we ought to…”

George pulled one of the pages free. “Hold on. Where did I see it? Oh, yeah, here it is. Look at this. It’s a reprint of a Reuter’s news release from a while ago. It says that Ludlow, well, not Ludlow himself, but DeVris, the guy he works with in Israel, has one already.”

“One what?”

“One copper scroll, you putz. It says that they already have a copper scroll. So Ludlow, acting all academic and everything, isn’t just looking for this diary to lead him to any old scroll, he’s looking for the mate to one that the Museum already has,” George concluded. He rubbed his thumb and index finger together. “And, from what the article says, I would imagine the complete set could turn them a very nice profit.”

Gil shrugged noncommittedly. He had no clue as to what George was talking about. Gingerly, he took the soggy article by its corner and held it high. “Does this mean you’ll be raising Ludlow’s fee?”

George responded with unusual seriousness. “Maybe, but that’s not what I’m saying. There could be a lot at stake here, and you’re going to have to act like a professional for once in your life.”

Obviously, Ludlow had been in touch. Better to get it out in the open then. Gil summed up the low points of Friday night’s dinner meeting, stumbled over an apology, and explained that he had no problem with another consultant being assigned to the job.

“No such luck, goombah. Got an e-mail from Ludlow just a few minutes ago. He and the translator, what’s her name…”

“Sabbie,” Gil said glumly.

“Yeah, Sabbie. Seems like they still want you, though I can’t imagine why. Good thing you get by on your wits and good looks and not on your personality. You’re the only one for the job, they say.”

“For Christ’s sake, George! That makes no sense at all. Sabbie walked out on me and took Ludlow with her.”

George stared blankly.

Hadn’t Ludlow told George what happened? Now, that was odd.

“Look, George, just let me wrap up the project I’m working on. It won’t take more than a couple of days. That can’t make that big a diff—”

“This afternoon,” George interrupted. “Got you booked on a red eye that’ll get you into Tel Aviv mid afternoon. You can head for Jerusalem and the Museum straight from the airport.”

Gil looked to see if the big guy was smiling. He wasn’t.

“You gotta be kidding! Pulling me off the project for who knows how long it will take, will send me back to square one. Five months’ work shot to hell.”

“Oh, give it up. It’ll do you good to not know exactly what’s going to happen tomorrow. Consider it an adventure.”

George picked up the Reuter’s release Gil had laid aside and thrust it back into his face. “This ought to change your mind. Read it.”

“Look, there’s no way…” Gil began.

“Read it,” George insisted. “Then tell me what you think.”

BURIED TREASURE:

FOUND AND LOST

Arnold Narin, AP, Jerusalem

“In Horebeh that is in the valley of Ahur, under the steps going eastward at 40 long cubits: a silver chest and its content of a value of 17 talents. In the funeral monument under the third course: 100 golden ingots. In the large cistern, which is in the yard of the small peristyle, in a hidden recess of its bottom blocked by the alluvial deposits, opposing the upper opening: 900 talents…”

So reads one of sixty-four entries of The 3Q15 Copper Scroll, commonly referred to as The Cave 3 Copper Scroll of Qumran. The Cave 3 Scroll has been described as one of the world’s most tantalizing mysteries and for good reason. The Valley of Ahur described in The Cave 3 Scroll is real, although contemporary historians cannot agree on its location. Many researchers are convinced that the treasures the Scroll described within are genuine; incredible riches from the Second Temple, rescued before its destruction more than two thousand years ago. Other scientists have been certain that the concealed fortune was the renounced wealth of an ancient sect whose members held themselves to a strict vow of personal poverty.

No matter what the source, however, the waiting treasure is said to add up to as much as 200 tons of gold and silver. Today, more than five decades since the discovery of The Cave 3 Scroll and after a remarkable state-of-the-art restoration, this priceless manuscript remains a mystery.

On special loan to the Israel Museum here in Jerusalem for the past year, it has been on exhibit at Israel Museum’s Shrine of the Book, magnificent home to the Dead Sea Scrolls. This enigmatic piece of history will remain available for viewing to the public until March 20 of next year, the anniversary of its discovery. On that day, the Scroll and its promises of hidden treasure will be return to the Museum of Amman, Jordan, where it will be sequestered.

“The decision to place this priceless document in safekeeping is commendable,” noted Dr. Anton DeVris, Director of Acquisitions at Israel Museum’s Shrine of the Book. “The thought that the Scroll will soon be secured where scholars may no longer have access to it, that is difficult to accept. Still, we are grateful to have had it here for this time,” added Dr. DeVris diplomatically.

One word of caution to all you would-be fortune hunters, however: Before you start packing your shovels and heading off to search for hidden treasure, you should know that since The Cave 3 Scroll’s discovery in 1952, scholars have been debating as to the authenticity of the Scroll, the treasures it describes, and even the intent of its author. Some have decreed the scroll to be “the work of a madman” or “a forgery.” Some have declared its creator to be “a charlatan” who had only a “passing knowledge of the Hebrew language.” Others believe the Scroll’s critics to be part of a sweeping cover-up.

Even more intriguing: some experts agree that the secret to The Cave 3 Copper Scroll lies not in its writings alone but in a yet-to-be-discovered mate to the Scroll; a second copper scroll that holds the key to The Cave 3 Scroll’s secrets and to the location of the vast array of priceless treasures that wait to be unearthed. Dr. DeVris described the possibility of the existence of a second scroll as “intriguing, but unlikely.”

And some final advice: If you want a close-up look at the unsolved 3Q15 (Cave 3) Copper Scroll, make plans soon. In only twelve short months, the exhibit at Israel Museum’s Shrine of the Book will be gone—back under lock and key—perhaps forever.

Gil finished reading. “Yeah, so?”

“I can’t believe you don’t get it! Look, right now the Museum has the first scroll in their hands, and Ludlow has the diary that may show them where the second scroll is hidden. If they can get their hands on both of the scrolls at the same time, they should be able to figure out where the treasure is hidden. The problem is, that within a couple of months, the Museum’s got to return the first scroll. If you don’t help them find the second scroll before they have to return the first, they can pretty much kiss the treasure good-bye.”

George smiled with satisfaction and continued. “They’re caught between a rock and a hard place with all their contributors watching. If you can find some hidden message in the diary that leads them to a second scroll, you can just about write your own ticket.”

CyberNet’s ticket, you mean. Still, Gil had to admit it didn’t sound half bad.

“You said this Reuters’ article is how old?”

“Six months, more or less.”

“Which is it? More or less?” Gil asked.

“Ahah! Got your interest didn’t it? Knew it would. Actually, the article’s about eight months old. From what I can see, it was written before Ludlow and DeVris got their hands on the diary. Now, with the possibility that the diary might connect The Cave 3 Scroll with a yet-to-be-uncovered second scroll, they must be desperate. I’m telling you, we could get a bundle for this one.”

Shaking his head, Gil smiled at the big lovable manipulator he called boss. He was hooked and George knew it.

“Here are your plane tickets. You’ve got a red-eye that leaves out of JFK at eleven tonight. Ludlow’s still on his way back to London, but I’ll nail down the contract by fax within a couple of hours, that is, unless you still want me to pass this whole thing on to one of the other guys, in which case…”

“Shut up and give me something to write on,” Gil muttered, reaching for a pad.

Gil caught George’s fleeting look of supreme satisfaction.

Think you know me so well, don’t you?

In his eagerness to sell Gil on the idea, George had left out one vital detail. The news article carried none of the banners or pop-up ads that brought those websites revenue. Clearly, George had cooked up the article to sell Gil on the deal.

Gil shook his head. He had no idea why George was trying so hard to pull this one off, but whatever the reason, he was game for it.