The Second Messiah

“I—I don’t follow. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sometimes on site I’d work for myself. I’d take artifacts. Nothing major that would attract attention. But I’d sell them, like the Bedu who work the black market. Make some money.”

Jack was still thunderstruck. “Sell them to whom, Buddy?”

“Pasha. Some of his black-market stuff went to private collectors. The really important parchment material he sold to the Vatican by a special arrangement he’d had for years. I figured a few fragments of your scroll could make me a small fortune.”

Jack said, stone cold. “Go on.”

“A little after you left Green, I sneaked back into his tent. I’d been waiting for my chance all night. I got a smell of alcohol, saw him clutching an open bottle of Wild Turkey and lying on his bed. He looked to be asleep. So I went to work on the scroll, cutting off a few slivers. But Green was barely dozing and he woke and saw what I was up to. The guy went crazy. We scuffled, I pulled the gun. The rest you could probably figure.”

“I want to hear it, Buddy.”

“I couldn’t bring myself to shoot. But then Green came at me like a wild bear and knocked the gun out of my hand. That’s when I grabbed your knife from the table.” Savage’s eyes were moist. “I didn’t mean to kill him, Jack. It just happened, out of the blue. But I know I did wrong and that nothing’s going to put it right, not ever.”

Savage began to sob, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe his own admission.

Jack touched his arm. “Why steal, Buddy? It’s not you.”

Buddy tipped back his baseball cap, wiped his eyes with his arm, and looked out at the headlights as they drew even closer. “I could give you a hundred reasons.”

“Give me one.”

“Because at my age I got tired of scratching for a living, and for nothing much more than my board and keep. I got tired of traveling coach class and busting my guts with not so much as a decent pension to show for it. I got tied of hearing stories about some dirt-poor Bedu making a fortune for themselves digging our sites.”

“Is that what it was about, Buddy, money?”

“I figured I’d set myself up for retirement. Except I never reckoned on getting in way over my head. After I killed Green I decided to take the scroll. Make it look like a proper murder and theft. That way the police might think it was a criminal gang. I’d arranged to give Pasha the cuttings, but I gave him the entire parchment just to get rid of it. I didn’t want a cent from it.”

“You stopped Pasha from killing me, didn’t you?”

“He called and told me you were on his tail at Maloula. I warned him that if he killed you I’d tell the Israelis everything. That’s why he tempered it with a warning and shot you in the leg instead.”

Savage paused, closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again. “There was no talking to Pasha. He was a nasty piece of work who probably would have killed us all in the end, especially after you did the switch. He went crazy, wanted your blood. Your friend Lela did everyone a favor killing him.”

Jack said, “You told him I was in Rome, didn’t you?”

“He said if I didn’t give him some leads, he’d kill us all. He said all he wanted was the scroll back. If he got that, he’d leave us alone. I figured I had to tell him my suspicions that you’d gone to see Fonzi.”

“Why did you think that?”

“He was a scroll expert and familiar with the code. I reckoned he’d probably be one of your first ports of call. I warned Pasha again that if he harmed you, I’d tell the Israelis everything. He swore he wouldn’t kill you.”

“And you trusted him?”

“I never trusted him, but I figured he’d be smart enough keep to his word or risk being hunted down by the Israelis. I tried to call and warn you to be careful, left lots of messages, but you didn’t answer my calls.”

“Pasha killed Fonzi, Buddy. Cut his throat.”

Savage’s eyes were wet again, and he ran a hand over his face. “Oh, no. . .”

Jack glanced in the rearview. He guessed the headlights were less than a hundred yards away. “How could you be so dumb, Buddy? How?”

“We all do dumb things in life.”

“Why all of a sudden tell the Israelis?”

Savage looked back at him. “To square things. Make sure they didn’t put you behind bars. After I got Hassan’s call, I phoned Sergeant Mosberg. I told him I wanted to make a deal. The cops get me and the scroll and you walk free. I told him you were innocent. But now if Hassan has his way, the world’s going to know about the scroll anyway. The Israelis aren’t going to be able to deny its existence.”

Savage nodded toward the rear mirror and the approaching headlights. “You better get out, Jack. Any second now and the cops are going to be swarming all over this place like ants on a dung pile.”

Jack flicked an anxious look in the mirror. The cortege roared closer.

Buddy said, “Keep your hands in the air when you get out. I don’t want any misunderstandings and you getting hurt. My deceit’s caused enough of that.”

“Pops. . .”

Savage shook his head. “I want to face them alone, Jack. But I’m truly sorry for what I did. For letting you down.”