The Second Messiah

“Then let’s try and move things along.” Lela looked over at the crew. This time she saw a tanned man wearing cut-off Chino shorts step out of one of the tents. He didn’t look in her direction but spoke with one of the other crew. Mosberg said, “That one’s Jack Cane.”

“Yes, I recognize him.”

Mosberg frowned. “You two know each other?”

“From another life, a long time ago.” The sun came out again and Lela slipped back on her shades. “But it’s probably a lousy time to be renewing an old friendship.”

13

The room had a scratched table and a couple of odd chairs. In one corner was stored a pile of archaeological site maps. In another, open wood crates were filled with a selection of label-tagged clay pots, pottery shards, and animal bones that the crew had unearthed.

Lela was alone and she tapped her fingers on the table. Jack Cane was next on her list of people to question. While Mosberg continued questioning other members of the crew, Lela had spoken with Yasmin Green and Buddy Savage. Yasmin was a stunning woman, with a figure that would stop traffic. She also guessed from the undercurrent of the conversation that Yasmin liked Jack Cane. She wondered how deep their relationship went, and just as quickly forced the thought from her mind. Unless it factored into the case in some way it was really none of her business.

Buddy Savage was a different specimen. He reminded her of the kind of man she’d sometimes seen hanging around in bars with a more attractive male friend, in the hope of latching on to any spare women that happened along. Behind it all, Lela figured that Savage was sharp as a barb.

As for Savage’s and Yasmin’s account of their movements, she’d consider them later, when she had gathered all the case facts. Her interview notes were in front of her but she barely studied them as she leafed through her notebook. She had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, a mix of suspense and excitement.

She remembered where exactly she had said her final good-bye to Jack Cane: at Tel Aviv airport twenty years ago. Footsteps sounded outside, the handle rattled, and her heart skipped a beat as the door opened.

* * *

Jack stepped in. He wore a cotton shirt with epaulettes. His camel-colored Chinos were cut short, his desert boots covered with a film of sand. He looked fit and tanned, older but handsome. Gone was the teenage face that she remembered. Age and fine lines and a few sun wrinkles around his eyes had matured his features, and his hair was flecked with silver. “Hello, Jack.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Lela Raul, well I’ll be darned. It’s been a long time. When I spotted you earlier I couldn’t believe my eyes. I know this sounds weird considering that this is a murder investigation, but it’s wonderful to see you again.”

Lela stood and they shook hands warmly. “It’s good to see you, too, Jack.”

He put a hand on her arm, held it there. “You look well. You look—”

“Older?”

“I was going to say great. You’re a cop now. An inspector no less. I’m sure your dad’s proud. How is he?”

“Living in a retirement home outside Jerusalem. He’s still in good health and refuses to slow down. They’ll probably have to shoot him on Judgment Day.”

“Did you marry?”

“Divorced, no kids. Jack, I’d love to talk some more. There’s a lot to catch up on, but first I have a job to do. I need to ask you some questions. Go over what you spoke about with Sergeant Mosberg.”

Jack slowly let go of her arm and took a step back. “Sure, I understand. But I told Mosberg everything.”

“Humor me, Jack. I need to hear it again, for myself. You know what I imagine? That a discovery like this could bring out the worst in people. Make them jealous, envious of the professional admiration it would bring. It could cause rows, arguments.”

Jack’s face clouded. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at. But you’re right. Except that Professor Green and I didn’t argue about the find, Lela. Just in case you’re wondering, I didn’t kill him either. I can give you the reasons why not. Number one, I doubt I could kill anyone. Number two, a find like this, it’s the dream of every archaeologist. The equivalent of winning the Oscars. It’ll attract a lot of attention, media, academic, the works.”

Lela looked toward the window and where the journalists and TV crews were gathered. “I can see that it’s got the media rattled already.”

“Lela, it’s the kind of discovery that I’ve worked hard for. It’ll probably be the pinnacle of my career, something I’d almost want inscribed on my headstone. Why would I ruin it all by murdering Green?”

Lela considered the reply before she again looked past the window toward the parched hills, then turned back. “Living near here, seeing all the digs take place, I learned enough about the scrolls to know that they were a remarkable discovery. But what’s so spectacular about the scroll you found?”

Jack’s voice sparked with excitement. “You’ve no idea, Lela. It may be one of the most dramatic finds of this century. Or any century, for that matter.”

“It’s that important?”