The 13th Tablet

She strolled down the broad streets of Maida Vale. It was a delightful part of London; central but secluded all the same, five minutes walk from Paddington station but cut off from the bustle of London traffic. As she walked past large white mansions lined with expensive cars she knew she was nearing her destination. She arrived at the canal, on Bloomfield Road. She walked across a bridge towards a barge-caf.. It was painted in a glossy maroon finish and ivy tresses hung down from the upper deck on either side.

The weather was chilly, so she walked onto the barge and into the caf.. She ordered a cappuccino and a croissant. The Buena Vista Social Club soundtrack was playing, which put her in a good mood. She had an hour before meeting Jack. She took out her notebook and placed it next to her coffee mug, leaned back and watched the cyclists shooting by, using the local network of canal routes to get to Paddington station. She remembered Jack saying that one could access most of London and avoid all traffic by using the cycle paths along the canals.

She thought back to their conversation in Tel Aviv the day before their departure to London. Jack could be very persuasive but she would not have left for London had she not felt deep down that he was right. She still felt utterly devastated about Eli’s death. She kept repeating the words that Jack said: she had neither wanted him dead nor had she killed him. Someone else had: Oberon Wheatley. He might be legally untouchable, as Jack explained, and would never stand trial for the crimes he had perpetrated, but by going to London she could at least make sure he would never learn about the other tablet. She would get there first for Eli and for all those who believed in saving mankind rather than annihilating them or holding them to ransom.

Right now, Wheatley had the stone tablet and most likely the rabbi’s chronicle as well. But they held the upper hand, as they already knew the contents of both and knew where to head next: Cambridge. Clearly the letter between the two brothers, from Cambridge to Safed, indicated that an ‘item’ was safe, and would one day be returned to its rightful place, the temple in Jerusalem. What else could this item be but the Jerusalem Tablet? She would have loved to know how the tablet had come to be a family heirloom of sorts, cared for by these two brothers. But first she had to speak to Moshe Shobai. Whatever Jack’s misgivings about the man, she would meet him. The whole world was not after them, Jack was being overcautious. One couldn’t be so na.ve as to think that academic pursuit was not fraught with danger. Shobai probably knew something about the tablet as a scholar deeply immersed in the field and was wise enough to keep away from what he sensed to be dangerous. He had kindly told her to leave it well alone but she hadn’t heeded his warning.

Her thoughts had drifted so much she’d almost forgot the time. She paid the waitress and left her a generous tip. Walking briskly across the bridge, she turned left down the street towards the restaurant. Jack was waiting for her out front holding a beautiful bunch of roses.

‘Hi Mina,’ he said, offering her the flowers.

‘Hi Jack. Thanks,’ she answered, taking the roses and kissing him on the cheek. ‘Now can I have my phone back?’ she added, smiling sweetly.

He grinned and pushed her gently into the restaurant. He had made a reservation for a table by the window. As they sat down, Mina looked out at the canal through the glass. Jack ordered a bottle of red wine and some sparkling water. They looked at each other without a word until the drinks arrived.

‘What should we toast to?’ asked Mina.

‘To the success of our quest! By the way Mina, if you’d checked your mobile you’d know that Hassan’s fine.’

‘He’s fine?’

‘Yes, he is. I’m not quite sure how he escaped Wheatley’s grasp but he did and he texted you to say he and his mother were staying with relatives in the countryside. I texted back saying it was good news and that you’d get in touch sometime soon.’

‘Thanks for that Jack. Now, seriously, where’s my phone? Are you a kleptomaniac? It’s the second time you’ve taken my mobile while I’ve been asleep.’

‘Technically, you fainted the first time. Does that really count?’

‘Just give me my phone.’

‘Here you are,’ he said, handing her a brand new one.

‘That’s not my phone.’

‘I know. Yours wasn’t safe to use any longer. We need to stay under the radar for the time being. Here’s a British passport by the way.’

‘A passport? You have been busy,’ she answered.

‘Let me explain.’

The waiter came to take the order. Jack chose the salmon, and Mina who hadn’t paid attention to the menu, said she would have the same.

‘Please, do explain,’ said Mina, sarcastically.