Secret of the Scroll (Greg McKenzie Mysteries) (9 page)

“This is classical Hebrew,” he explained. “They didn’t bother to separate the words or use any punctuation. It also has no vowels. That really makes it challenging. It starts off identifying the writer with the kabbalists, a student of esoteric Jewish mysticism.”

“You’re getting over my head,” I said, frowning.

“It concerns the mystical or symbolic meaning of various biblical texts. Mostly from the Torah, the Book of Ruth and the Song of Solomon. It was first documented late in the first
century A.D. by Rabbi Simeon ben Yochai. He was a kabbalist, supposed to have written much of the
Zohar
, meaning ‘Book of Splendor.’ It’s the classic text about Jewish mysticism.”

He fell silent for a bit as he examined the document, then unrolled it to the second page of characters. “This writer–he never divulges his name–says he was a member of a group of Jews, maybe Zealots, I don’t know. Anyway, they journeyed to
Babylon
after receiving word that some stolen treasure from Solomon’s temple had been found hidden there.”

“Isn’t
Babylon
in present-day
Iraq
?”

“It’s on the
Euphrates
River
about fifty-five miles south of
Baghdad
. What’s left of the ruins, that is. Nebuchadnezzar hauled off all the sacred objects from the
Temple
in
Jerusalem
, most of it made of gold or silver. That was when he sent the Judeans into exile back around 587 BC. His dynasty didn’t last too long, though.
Babylon
was pretty much done for by 275 BC. That’s when the Seleucids moved the population to their new capital on the
Tigris
.”

He read a bit more, rubbing his chin. I was getting impatient. “What’s it all about?”

“According to this fellow, they found the ten lampstands, called golden candlesticks in the King James Version, and carried them back to
Jerusalem
.”

“Lampstands?”

“Menorahs, the seven-branched candelabrum. They held oil lamps in Solomon’s
Temple
and stood on each side of the Sanctuary. Only the priests were allowed in there.”

I nodded, remembering the tour. “We saw a model of the
Temple
at the Holy Land Hotel.”

“That was the one Herod built. It was on a little more grand scale than the first
Temple
. But Solomon was no slouch. His place of worship was a sight to behold. Let me show you.”

He pulled a small brown Bible from a shelf and opened it to reveal a model of Solomon’s
Temple
and a plan of the grounds. Then he flipped a few pages and said, “Here’s your candlesticks.”

I read:

The Golden Candlestick was fashioned of pure gold, containing a central shaft and ornamentation of knobs, flowers, and bowls. There were six branches extending outward, three from each side. The branches were ornamented identically with the shaft. The bowls were shaped like almonds. A lamp with sufficient oil and cotton to burn through the night was mounted at the top of the shaft and on each branch.

The text of Exodus gives no dimensions for the candlestick. Nevertheless, a height of 3 cubits (6 feet) and a breadth of 2½ cubits (5 feet) would keep it in proportion with the other furnishings. The Golden Candlestick’s value is defined as one talent, which at the present value of gold would be $32,492.24.

I looked up. “Ten of them would be worth about three hundred and twenty thousand bucks. Not bad.”

Dr. Welch turned to the front of the Bible. He read, “Copyright 1956. Things have changed a bit since then. A gold talent is fifteen hundred and seventy-two ounces. Figure about three hundred dollars an ounce–I’m not sure of the exact price of gold now . . . ”  He punched a few numbers into his calculator. “That makes them worth four million, seven hundred and sixteen thousand dollars. Definitely worth mounting a recovery operation.”

I looked at my watch. Time was winding down on me. “Does the scroll say what these people did with the lampstands after they got back to
Jerusalem
?” I asked.

He looked back at the parchment, which he had flattened out completely now. It was less than a yard long. “It gets a little hazy there,” he said. “The Jews had been in revolt since 66 A.D., and the Romans under General Titus captured
Jerusalem
in the year 70. Then they proceeded to demolish the
Temple
and most of the rest of the city. Apparently this group arrived shortly after the destruction. The writer says they worked at night, digging into the rubble, and buried the lampstands, covering them with flat stones for protection. Shortly after they finished, Roman soldiers took them prisoner. Somehow this scribe–he had to have been a scribe to produce such beautiful lettering–managed to escape across the
Jordan
. He wrote this and planned to hide it in the hope that it would be found by a future generation. After peace had returned, they could recover the golden lampstands and use them in a new
Temple
.”

Thoughts of Jill closed in. I tried to think. This unnamed Jew must have been in
Jordan
when he wrote the document. But where had he hidden it? And more importantly, where had they buried the lampstands? I asked Dr. Welch.

He looked up with a smile. “I think you’ll have to go back to David Wolfson with that question.”

“Why?”

“The writer identified himself with the kabbalists. They’re the people who started the Torah codes business. I’ve read a little about it, but I was completely turned off by all the ridiculous claims people have been making. Among other things, some people tried to use the codes to ‘prove’ Jesus was not the Messiah. David and I have argued about all this, but one thing he did convince me of was the historical basis of biblical cryptology. In Jeremiah, for example, the word ‘Sheshach’ is used for ‘
Babylon
.’ It’s done by letter substitution in a code called Atbash. Anyway, this kabbalistic encoding led to the modern development of cryptology.”

I checked my watch again. Nearly
six o’clock
. My home number was set to forward calls to the cell phone, which I had stuck in my jacket pocket. But I did not want to be here when the mysterious Palestinian called. With the phone set to vibrate rather than ring, I had ignored two calls while Dr. Welch was talking. Neither was a number I needed to answer immediately. What I really needed to do was get moving.

“Are you saying there’s some kind of code in that scroll?” I asked.

“It’s likely. He never says where they buried the lampstands. But presumably that’s what he’s referring to when he writes: ‘The location will be found within.’ If the Romans had turned up the document, they would’ve had no idea what he meant.”

“And you think David could decode it?”

“Definitely. He has a computer program that can search Hebrew text and pull out coded passages.”

I zipped up my jacket. “I’d better be on my way then,” I said. “We’ll just roll this up–”

“Don’t do that.” He reached out to stop me. “I’ll put it between two sheets of plastic and back it with cardboard. It won’t stand much more handling. By the way, I guess you know it’s against Israeli law to remove something like this from the country.”

“I suspected as much,” I said. “But I had no idea this is what I had bought as a souvenir.”

“I think you should call the Israeli Embassy and let them handle these people, whoever they are.”

“I wish I could,” I said. “But there’s a complication I didn’t mention. I don’t believe it would be advisable for either of us if I did. But I really appreciate your help. And I promise to let you know how it turns out.”

The look he gave me said he was against what I was doing. Nevertheless, he found some plastic sheets in a closet and sealed the flattened scroll inside, then taped cardboard in front and back. I left his house with what had the look of a large picture or a poster. It was about the size and look of a package I had sneaked into the house for Jill some years back, a portrait of her mother and dad based on an old photograph. I had surprised her with it on her birthday. She was as emotional as I’d ever seen her when she opened it. She gave me a bear hug. Right now I ached for that closeness.

That was how I remembered her as I placed the package in the back of my Jeep. She had been gone for only a few hours, but I could not have missed her more. I slid behind the wheel, feeling the Beretta’s butt hard against my ribs, and headed for home.

Chapter
12

The temperature had dropped since my arrival at Dr. Welch’s, but I wasn’t sure if it was the mercury or the madness that was getting to me. I glanced at the dashboard clock. The red figures glowed
6:10
. I was just turning onto the interstate ramp when my cell phone rang. It was early for the Palestinian. I pulled out the phone and pressed the talk button.

“This is Jay Rogers, Greg. Ricky is chomping at the bit to bring your mail over. He got out of school early this afternoon and started over there with it but saw Jill leaving with some folks. I’ll bring him over there if it’s okay.”

Leaving with some folks?

No doubt Ricky was still in the woods and they hadn’t seen him. But what had he seen?

“I’m on my cell phone just leaving downtown,” I said. “I can stop by your place on the way home.”

“Okay. Sorry to bother you.” He lowered his voice. “I think Ricky is anxious to collect whatever Jill promised him. I hope it wasn’t much. He’s been making exorbitant demands for doing his chores.”