The Second Messiah

“I was here on digs a bunch of times. In fact, most of ancient Rome has been buried, but parts of it can still be seen. There’s almost an entire city thirty to sixy feet below street level, and I’m talking almost every street.”

“I’ve read about it.”

“Even under the Vatican there are deep subterranean passages, tunnels, and sewers that traverse Rome. They lead down to crypts and catacombs, baths and palaces, prisons and brothels. It’s pretty incredible.”

The Fiat continued to strain upward through a maze of narrow streets. Then the car nudged to the right and they were hurtling downhill, the sad-faced driver jabbing the brakes gingerly. Another five minutes and they drove past the vast splendor of St. Peter’s Square.

Jack studied the ancient plaza, peppered with flocks of pigeons, as the taxi driver halted near the side entrance to a Vatican courtyard. It was protected by a barrier pole manned by Swiss Guards. The cheerless driver scratched his stubble and looked back at Jack for guidance, his eyes asking, Is this where you want me to stop?

“This is fine,” Jack said, and paid the man from a wad of euros that he’d exchanged at Tel Aviv airport. The sad-eyed little man started to babble something.

“What did he say?” Yasmin asked.

“That his name’s Mario. That he’s got five kids who never stop opening his fridge door. That business is slow and if we need a driver he doesn’t mind waiting for us. He says he’ll show us Rome or take us wherever we want to go and his charges are very reasonable.”

“I almost feel sorry for him.”

“We could be a while.”

“Tell him you’ve got a meeting and to wait right here but that we don’t know how long we’ll be.”

Jack told the driver. The man was so pleased he stepped out of the cab and gallantly held open the rear door. “Take your time, signore, signora. Mario will wait, no problem.”

As they strolled toward the Swiss Guards at the barrier, Jack said suddenly, “I have a confession to make. I took the scroll from Father Novara’s study.”

Yasmin stopped walking and stared at him, her mouth open. She felt too stunned to talk.

“It’s the truth, Yasmin. When I discovered the original I switched it with one of the other old parchments I found in the study.”

“You mean Pasha has a fake?”

“He sure has.”

She laughed, but then her face began to darken as the reality set in. “Pasha’s not going to like you duping him.”

“It’s a risk I took.”

“How did you smuggle it into Israel?”

Jack patted his injured leg. “The guards never checked my dressing. I’d slipped it into a clear plastic bag from Josuf’s first-aid kit and covered it with more gauze. After we crossed the border and I had a moment to myself I tucked it inside my shirt.”

“Wasn’t the parchment damaged?”

“More like roughed up a little.”

“Jack, this could cost us both our lives.”

“Now you understand why I wanted to come to Rome alone.”

Yasmin was tense. “It’s a bit late to be telling me that now. But where’s the scroll?”

“In a safe place. Don’t ask me any more.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“It’s got to remain my secret for now. No exceptions. I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious? After all we’ve been through? Thanks a bunch for trusting me, Jack.”

“It’s for your own good, believe me. Maybe at a later time. You’re the only one who knows I’ve hidden the scroll. I didn’t even tell Buddy. I don’t want anyone else getting roughed up or killed on account of what they know. But I can tell you that I believe I’ve decoded another line of text.”

“You’re kidding.”

“While you were asleep during the flight I worked on a complete sentence I’d jotted down. I think I’ve cracked it.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Jack flipped open his notebook. He pointed to a sentence he’d written in block letters.

ON LEARNING THE TRUTH, JUDAS NOW BELIEVED HIS MASTER TO BE A FALSE MESSIAH AND NOT THE TRUE MESSIAH, THE ONE COME TO CHANGE THE WORLD.

Yasmin said, puzzled, “What’s it supposed to mean?”

Jack said excitedly, “I wish I knew, but it’s another incredible statement, like the last one. Judas believing his master to be a false messiah. That’s an astonishing revelation.”

“Could you decode any more?”

“Sure I could, but it would be slow progress. To make any significant development we’re going to need expert help. Parts of the text are missing, others are damaged, you see.”

“So there’s no way some of the text can be translated?”

Jack folded away his notebook. “Actually, that’s not true. Some years ago unique software programs were written to help patch together and make sense of damaged Dead Sea scrolls. The programs can sometimes help fill in any missing gaps in the text by using mathematical projections. Don’t ask me how it works, but if the stories I’ve heard are true it’s been a terrific help to translators. The guy I know who’s an authority on Schonfeld’s code ought to be able to help in that regard.”

“Are you at least going to tell me who you know in the Vatican?”

“An old contact of my father’s I haven’t seen in years.”

“Who?”