The Second Messiah

Jack thought about it. “Probably simple vanity. In the years after Jesus’ death his name would have spread as Christianity grew. Jesus’ legend would have been well-known in Rome. Judging by Agrippa’s long list of triumphs the guy had a big ego. Maybe he wanted to stake his claim for posterity and suggest he played a part in the drama of Jesus’ death.”

“I don’t get it. Why isn’t a significant piece of history like this well-known, Jack?”

“Newly discovered Roman sites are being uncovered almost every day by construction workers. References to Jesus’ followers are a dime a dozen. This one doesn’t even mention Jesus by name. Let’s face it, if someone translated the inscription it probably wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense without some kind of context.” Jack finished writing in the notebook and flipped it shut.

“Isn’t there any more?” Yasmin asked.

“Nothing worth talking about. And the rest of the inscription is destroyed forever.” Jack frowned as he climbed down off the limestone, careful not to strain his leg.

Yasmin said, “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“If we’re talking about the same messiah that the world knows as Jesus—and remember, we’re talking about the same time period, so it’s probable—then this poses a huge question. Everyone knows that in the gospels Jesus was sentenced to death and crucified in Jerusalem by Pontius Pilate.”

“Go on.”

“So how could a commander, Cassius Agrippa, serving almost eighty miles away in Syria, have been responsible?” Jack offered up to Yasmin his hand.

She took hold of it and Jack added, “If my sense of direction’s right, we’re under or near the Vatican. Ease yourself down.”

Yasmin slithered down into his arms.

Jack released her and then closely inspected portions of the shattered marble. “This area is probably normally out of bounds to anyone but Vatican officials with the authority to be down here.”

“What are you saying?”

Jack slapped a hand over the damaged portion of the marble. “It all seems a bit convenient. What if someone deliberately defaced the marble to hide the full inscription? Some of this damage could just as easily have been inflicted with a hammer or chisel as by falling debris.”

“Where does that leave us?”

“Nowhere, except with a bunch of questions. The big one being, how could Jesus have been crucified in two places?”

“Any suggestions that make any kind of sense?”

Jack considered, and then an excited tone crept into his reply: “Only this. What if two messiahs existed at about the same time?”

“Are you serious?”

“As weird as it sounds, it’s about all I can think of. And it poses a couple of mind-blowing questions. Did this second messiah have any relationship to the Jesus of history that we know of? Did their two stories connect in some way?”

A noise sounded behind them, of stones falling away. They turned and saw the Arab appear out of the shadows, his pistol aimed at them. “Move and I kill you both.”

82

Nidal stepped into the room. Behind him the Serb appeared, armed with a machine pistol. Nidal said in perfect English, “Place the lamp on the ground and keep your hands away from your body.”

Jack put down the metal lamp and it made a clink as it hit stone. He and Yasmin spread their arms.

Nidal’s eyes darted restlessly. “You’ve led us both in a tiring dance, Mr. Cane. But no matter where you ran we would have found you.”

His voice was laced with arrogance and he snapped his fingers. The Serb patted Jack and Yasmin for weapons, then stepped back.

Jack said to Nidal, “Who are you? How do you know me?”

Nidal glanced up at the marbled walls. “You’ll find out soon enough. What are you both doing down here?”

“Trying to escape from you and the others following us.”

Nidal aimed his pistol at Yasmin. “You. Tell me who are the others.”

“Israelis. One of them is Inspector Lela Raul, of the Jerusalem police.”

Nidal considered, and then without warning he turned and struck Jack a stinging blow across the face with the barrel of his pistol. Jack staggered back, clapping a hand to his jaw.

Nidal fixed him with a steely look. “Take that as a warning, Mr. Cane. You are not here just to escape, are you? I think you had a purpose when you dug a hole through that rubble back there. What did you hope to find?”

Jack wiped his mouth, stained wet with blood. “You probably wouldn’t understand.”

“I’ll decide that.” Nidal put the tip of the pistol to Yasmin’s temple.

“If I have to repeat the question you’ll be scraping her brains off the walls.”

“A clue led us here.”

Nidal cautiously lowered his Beretta. Raising his lamp, he edged closer to the damaged marble. He studied the chiseled words with interest, touching them with his fingertips. “You mean here, to these inscriptions?”

“Yes.”

“Which period are they?”

“First century A.D.”

Nidal raised his gun again. “Translate the words. Whichever ones interested you. You’re an archaeologist. Latin should not be a problem.”

Jack interpreted the inscription.