Rabbi Gabrielle Ignites a Tempest (17 page)

What Tim learned about this yeshiva at Ein
Arugot made him want to work faster, but Schreiber's strength would
not permit it. The more he pressed to assemble and decipher the
fragments, the more the rabbi required frequent naps to restore his
strength. During these intervals, Tim would take short walks to
stretch his legs and clear book mold from his lungs.

To minimize the number of people entering his
apartment, Zechariah dismissed his Sephardic housekeeper and relied
on Tim to shop for food and prepare their meals. Though Tim was an
acknowledged master of many cuisines, none of his prior experience
proved useful while preparing kosher meals according to old world
traditions. When he was in the kitchen, Zechariah made a habit of
hovering nearby to be certain he didn't violate kosher laws. To be
supervised so closely was annoying, but Tim avoided hurting the old
man's feelings by letting him have his way and producing
unnecessarily greasy, over salted dishes.

Two days after reading the Ein Arugot scroll,
Tim sat down at his computer and typed out the address and phone
number of his apartment on Ussishkin Street, along with an
additional address in Chicago and Gabby's office number at the
university. These he intended to give Rav Schreiber, along with the
following letter:

Dear Gabby,

I have loved you from the day we met. You
have brought sunshine into a life that, on its own, would have been
dark and gloomy. For that wonderful gift I cherish you.

By now, you must have sensed that a major
change has occurred. I'm currently on a journey from which I cannot
return. At the beginning, I was so caught up in discovering
something of significance that I gave little thought to how
dangerous this quest might become. Soon, you will know exactly
where I have been, and you can judge for yourself whether it was
worth it.

Let me introduce you to Rabbi Zechariah
Schreiber, who has helped me immeasurably with
Fragments from the Dead Sea Scrolls
. He deciphered the
grammar and syntax that I could not. He is again assisting me on
new fragments, recently taken from a cave at Qumran. If I should
not survive this journey, please take the material he gives you and
see that it is published in a scholarly manner. How this is
accomplished will require sound judgment. And for that, you have my
complete confidence. Additionally, please turn over all fragments
you may find to the Antiquities Authority, to be added to the
existing Dead Sea collection in the Shrine of the Book.

From my assets, other than our Chicago home,
see that Rabbi Schreiber receives what he needs to maintain himself
and his beloved books for as long as he lives. If the publication
of these fragments produces royalties, make certain that he
receives no less than 50%, for without his knowledge the
compilation of these fragments would not have happened.

Love you,
Timothy

Tim printed out this note, along with Gabby's
contact addresses, then sealed the results in an envelope with
Rabbi Zechariah Schreiber's name handwritten on the outside.

The following morning, after a breakfast of
coffee and toast with peach preserves, Tim helped settle the rabbi
at the worktable, then prepared himself to begin reading scans made
at St. George. Before starting what both anticipated would be a
long, laborious task, he passed the envelope with Schreiber's name
on it across the table, announcing, "Rabbi, this is for you."

Schreiber regarded the envelope, but made no
attempt to open it.

"If anything happens to me, here's contact
information for my dear friend, Gabrielle Lewyn. She's a Reform
rabbi. I know you don't approve of female rabbis, particularly
Reform ones, and I won't ask you to change your mind about that.
Since I have no standing in this family squabble, it would be
audacious of me to intervene. I'm only asking you to please contact
Rabbi Lewyn if anything happens to me. Give her everything we've
worked on together. She's now completing a doctorate at the
University of Chicago and will know what to do with our work."

"You think something might happen?" the old
man said, surprised by the thought.

Tim enjoyed intellectual candor with
Schreiber and replied, "You Jews have come to terms with your past.
Christians are still struggling with theirs. Our history consists
mostly of myth, not fact. Most Christians would not approve of what
I am doing with these fragments because they won't like what they
say. We have an old adage: 'When you don't like the message, kill
the messenger.'"

A twinkle lit up the rabbi's eyes as he
tilted his head to the side youthfully. "But my dear Timothy,
you're with me now. Nothing can hurt you here."

"In your company, dear Rabbi, I feel in God's
keeping. But that can't last. Put this envelope in a safe place,
just in case."

"Are you frightened?" he asked.

Tim thought of Jesus and the trials he
endured before crucifixion. "Yes. But this is the most important
thing I've done in my life and I'm not turning back now."

CHAPTER SIX

Security checks to enter the Israeli Knesset
were stricter than Gabby had seen for entry into the U.S. Congress.
A thorough body search by female guards. Three sets of electronic
metal detectors. Everything carried into the building was carefully
inspected, then re-inspected by another officer. And all this while
she accompanied Major Zabronski, Itamar Arad, and his senior
scientific deputy, Dr. Shmuel Navid. The four were escorted along
corridors bustling with members of the Knesset in transit from one
meeting to another, reminding her of the hallway in an American
high school between classes. This was a particularly exasperating
afternoon. News of a terrorist bomb on Mount Carmel by a team of
suicide terrorists had been broadcast on the midday news. First
reports attributed the deaths of nine Jewish and five Israeli Arab
citizens to the attackers, a barbaric act that demanded an
immediate response by the government. At that very moment, the
cabinet was meeting to decide on a course of action. As usual,
opposition to the prime minister's conciliatory response threatened
to trigger a vote of no confidence in the government.

Getting Deputy Prime Minister Zebulon
Sonnenberg to see them had taken several days, during which Itamar
and Zvi Zabronski confronted a series of his staff, insisting that
no government official lower than the deputy PM would be suitable
for the highly confidential information they needed to convey.

Zebulon Sonnenberg's office was decorated
with modern Swedish furniture. An attractive blond aide in a tight,
body-revealing pantsuit told them that the minister was engaged in
an important meeting and would join them as soon as possible. Four
chairs were arranged in front of his desk. A second female aide,
far less attractive than the first, offered them bottled fruit
juices.

Shmuel Navid retrieved from his briefcase a
written report about Qumran for presentation to the deputy prime
minister.

While waiting, Zabronski took advantage of
his time with Gabby to say, "It doesn't look good for Professor
Matternly. We have the capability to trace just about every
financial transaction in the country. It's expensive, but feasible.
I decided to bite the bullet and spend some of the taxpayers' money
to place a tracer request on Matternly's credit cards and, sure
enough, we got a hit. Three days ago, your friend made a purchase
with his American Express card here in Jerusalem. He bought an HP
laptop, along with a printer and server with 1000 gigabytes of
memory at ha-Digital, a computer store on Jaffa Road. Looks like he
intends to do some heavy-duty computing. My guess, with documents
taken from Qumran. I'm looking to you for help in this. What's he
up to?"

"Tim didn't steal anything," Gabby insisted,
constantly annoyed by the accusation.

"You know that for certain, do you?" the
major responded, his tone patronizing.

"Yes, I know that for certain."

"Would you mind telling me how?"

Her eyes moved to Itamar for sympathy, but
found nothing. "Tim's not the criminal type. I've known him for
years to be a law-abiding, gentle human being, who, when he was a
practicing minister, preached respect for the rule of law and
discipline in personal affairs."

Zabronski pointed a non-threatening finger
"But wouldn't his presence at Cave XII implicate him in the killing
of Mumud banu-Nazeem?"

"That's preposterous," Gabby responded. "I
assure you, Tim didn't shoot anybody. He doesn't go around killing
people."

"Does he own a gun?" Zabronski ask, now
grilling her as if she were a suspect.

"Yes, and so does just about everybody else
in Israel these days. You guys can't stop all terrorists and
protect the citizenry. Where's Zebulon Sonnenberg at this very
moment? Debating the killing on Mount Carmel, right?" As soon as
she said this, she thought of the deaths of Itamar's family in
Netanya, and immediately regretted her words.

"Only licensed individuals," Zabronski
said.

"And what percentage of the gun-owning
population here would that be? Twenty-five percent?" Gabby
rallied.

"Of course, not everybody bothers to get a
license, but the figure certainly isn't that low. Do you know what
kind of weapon Matternly owns?"

"He once told me he had an American army
rifle from World War II."

"Is it in your apartment?"
She considered
lying, but that was bound to backfire. All Zabronski needed to do
was demand that she produce the gun. "No. I looked for it recently.
It wasn't where Tim usually stored it."

"A U.S. military rifle?"
"A carbine, I
think," she said, fearful of additional questions she could not
answer.

"Some of our licensed guards use them because
they're light to handle. But they're 30 caliber. Mumud banu-Nazeem
was killed by a 9 mm Israeli Uzi. Who removed this carbine from
your apartment?"

"How should I know?"

"I hope Matternly still has it. Given the
trouble he's in, he's likely to need it to stay alive."

The office door suddenly flung open. The
attractive female aide breezed through, leading the way for Deputy
Prime Minister Zebulon Sonnenberg, a heavyset man with a thicket of
wild gray hair. Long, determined strides brought him beside Dr.
Navid whom he knew through mutual government contacts. He also knew
less well Itamar and Zabronski, but not Gabby. After a quick
introduction, his hands settled on his hips, a sign that he wanted
to know what was so important to pull him from the prime minister's
side at such a critical time.

Dr. Navid handed over his confidential report
about the Qumran cave.

After a perusing glance at the packet, the
Deputy PM laughed, "You've got the wrong man, friends. I'm afraid
I'm one of the rare politicians in this country who doesn't give a
duck's feather about archeology."

Itamar ignored the jibe at his profession,
but admired the minister's forthrightness. He said, "Whatever was
in Cave XII was plundered. We're fairly certain an American
academic, Timothy Matternly from the University of Chicago, is
implicated. Rabbi Lewyn happens to be Dr. Matternly's significant
companion."

A finger rose to Sonnenberg's lips that
opened wide before he spoke. "I heard from the army about activity
in Qumran."

"Yes, sir," Itamar said. "Unfortunately,
looting occurred before we knew the cave existed."

Looking to the uniformed border police
officer, the deputy PM said, "And did I also hear something about
foul play there?"

"A murdered Bedouin. We think he was shot in
the cave, but died while trying to escape."

"Is organized crime involved in this? Sounds
like their style."

"It's a good possibility."

"Oh," Sonnenberg's eyes rose to look at
Gabby, hiding his curiosity about why an attractive female rabbi
would be living with a man out of wedlock, and not just any man,
but a Christian scholar. But on second thought, it was hard for him
to imagine such an attractive woman without a partner. "So, what do
we do about this? Wait until artifacts show up on the auction
block? Isn't that too late? I sniff another fight with the Vatican.
If what was stolen refers to early Christianity in any way or form,
the bishops will accuse Israel of not properly protecting their
Christian heritage. Every time we manage to calm things down in
Rome, something like this pops up and I find myself in a new brawl.
I don't mind telling you that I hate theological food fights." He
looked impatiently at his wristwatch.

The door opened and the deputy's senior aide
planted himself in the doorway. "The PM wants you back in the
meeting, Zeb. Avi Krugger is on the warpath."

"I'll be right over," he snapped. "Shit, this
is all we need now." He paused to stare at Gabby. "And why did my
friends bring me a female rabbi? You think I need some
religion?"
"I beg your pardon," she said, not the least intimidated
by Sonnenberg's position. "They brought me because I'm Tim
Matternly's friend. He's performed a gargantuan task by compiling
unread fragments from the earlier Dead Sea scrolls. And he may be
useful in deciphering material coming from the new cave."

That stopped Sonnenberg in his tracks. "I
wasn't aware of that." To Itamar he said, "How much of this
business has leaked to the public?"

"At this point, virtually nothing."

"Then I suspect the Vatican's ambassador,
Bishop Deporia, won't be visiting me soon. How did this debacle
happen?"

Itamar said, "Two years ago, the Antiquities
Authority commissioned the University of Pennsylvania to perform
deep penetrating radar scans at Qumran, just to be sure that we had
found all the repository caves. Nothing turned up."

"Did the university snooker us?"