The City of Lost Secrets: A Mara Beltane Mystery (20 page)
“He’ll get to that,” Lev said, sitting back down on the floor of his cell.
“Okay, sorry,” I mumbled.
Uri nodded at me and continued his story.
“Ziva told me about the Talpiot tomb and the ossuaries when we first met. She took me to the warehouse and showed me the ossuaries. Naturally I was interested in their history. I thought it would make for a lively debate for my students.
“I joked with Ziva that I would break into the Talpiot tomb and prove it was the true resting place of Jesus of Nazareth. I was kidding, at first…”
“But Ziva took you seriously?” I asked.
“No, not at first. But the more research I did, the more I talked about the tomb and the ossuaries, the more anxious Ziva became. She accused me of being obsessed with the tomb. She warned me that talking about it with my students could jeopardize her job—-and possibly mine. She begged me to let it go and not talk about it anymore.”
“Did you?” I asked.
“For awhile. I was in love with Ziva and asked her to marry me. She said yes, and the majority of our conversations from then on were about the wedding. We no longer spoke about the Talpiot tomb. Ziva was happy, and so was I, but the Talpiot tomb was still there, in the back of my mind, beckoning to me…”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I asked Ziva to use her power to convince the IAA to open the tomb for further investigation.”
“And Ziva agreed to do that?”
“On one condition: That I would never talk about the Talpiot tomb again.”
“Finding out the truth about the Talpiot tomb is your passion. How could she ask that of you?”
“At the time I believed it was fair,” Uri explained. “I asked her to make a big sacrifice, and she asked for one in return.”
“So what happened?”
“My request was denied, of course. I think we both knew it would be. Soon after, Ziva left me for Benjamin.”
“Just like that?” I said, snapping my fingers. “She left you for a stranger?”
“Ziva and Benjamin were hardly strangers,” Uri said. “They’d known each other for several years. The IAA frequently works with the Jerusalem police to prevent theft, looting and other crimes against antiquities.”
“So you wanted Ziva to ask the IAA powers-that-be to contemplate opening the Talpiot tomb for further investigation. Where’s the sacrifice in that?”
“In the months leading up to my request, Ziva and Benjamin grew closer. She talked about him a lot. She spent a lot of time on cases with him. Late-night meetings. Early morning phone calls. I felt her pulling away from me…She was falling for Benjamin.”
“Was she cheating on you?” I asked.
“She claims no. And I have to believe her. And that is where the big sacrifices came into play. I told her I’d give up the Talpiot tomb, stop talking about it, quit my research, if she would give up Benjamin and truly be with me.”
I wanted to abhor Ziva Feldman. For breaking Uri’s heart. For betraying Lev, her own flesh and blood. For snitching on us. I really wanted to hate her…
“That didn’t happen, did it?” I asked.
“She didn’t love me enough to stay,” Uri said. “And we both knew I wouldn’t be able to give up the Talpiot tomb. Neither of us could be trusted to live up to our word. So we went our separate ways. It seemed the only just thing to do. As you know, we remained friends…”
“A friendship she then betrayed by diming you out to her new husband,” I said, “who just happens to be with the Jerusalem police.”
“She was trying to protect me,” Uri said. “She thought that if she told Benjamin about what I might be planning to do, then he would take it easy on me as a favor to her.”
“She was trying to protect
herself
!” I said. “She wanted to keep her job and protect her reputation.”
“The Talpiot tomb is public knowledge,” Lev said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. “Everyone knows where it is and where the ossuaries are kept. It’s not a secret. And, as you know, anyone can visit the Bet Shemesh warehouse. We didn’t need any information from Ziva for our research or planning.”
“Well, so much for Ziva’s persuasion,” I said. “Benjamin wound up arresting the both of you anyway!”
Uri and Lev looked at each other.
“We broke the law, plain and simple,” Uri said. “Benjamin was only doing his job. It didn’t matter that Benjamin is Ziva’s husband. He had to uphold the law. No amount of pleading or persuasion on her part could’ve helped us. I don’t blame him.”
“Ziva tried to help, but in the end, we got caught,” Lev added. “We might’ve gotten away with it had Ziva not told Benjamin, but probably not.”
“Ziva felt responsible for what happened to the both of us,” Uri said. “She resigned from the IAA because she didn’t think it was fair that she got to keep her job and I didn’t. Eventually she found a job at Hebrew University, which I helped her get.”
I wanted to hate Ziva Feldman. I kept trying. But Uri and Lev would never allow it.
“How come Benjamin arrested you the last time despite Ziva’s pleadings,” I said, “but this time he was willing to let you go?”
“Ziva didn’t tell Benjamin about our plan this time,” Lev said. “I did.”
I wanted to reach through the bars and shake him. “What?” I said. “Why would you do that?”
“Ben is my brother-in-law,” Lev said. “We have grown close. I thought if I explained to him how important seeing the Talpiot tomb was to the three of us, that I could work out a deal with him.”
“So you told the police we were going to do something illegal, and then tried to negotiate a deal for us to get away with it?” I was flabbergasted.
“I thought it was worth a try,” Lev said. He seemed so sure of his decision to tell Benjamin about our plan.
“What kind of deal did you work out?” I asked.
“I told Ben that if he helped us gain access to the tomb, that I’d agree to be in the Civilian Guard.”
“Civilian Guard?” I asked, wondering how that worked into Lev’s plan.
“The Civilian Guard is a group of local volunteers who help the police prevent crime,” Uri explained. “These volunteers identify problems in their neighborhoods and single out what is required of the population in order for them to stay safe. The volunteers network with watch groups and the police to improve the quality of life for the inhabitants.”
“You agreed to do that for us?” I asked Lev.
“Yes,” Lev said. “My father, and Benjamin too, have been trying to convince me to join. I thought it would look good on my resume, so I decided to use it as a bargaining chip.”
“And Benjamin agreed to this, this deal you came up with, knowing that he’d be helping us break the law?” I asked.
“It’s only considered breaking the law if you get
caught
,” Lev said slyly, a smirk on his face. “But in this case, the police already knew about it…”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
Uri took over for Lev.
“The tomb sits on land that is owned by the Talpiot Apartment Owners’ Association,” he said. “If we were to gain access to the tomb, as civilians we could be charged with trespassing and breaking and entering and a whole bunch of other possible charges. But if the police are there, escorting us on official police business…” Uri used air quotes around the phrase “official police business.”
“But the police weren’t there,” I insisted. “There was no one there but the three of us!”
“Ben was there,” Lev said. “As well as one of his field officers. Both of them were hiding in the bushes. Ben agreed to give us a head start of thirty minutes. If we were still there after a half hour, he and his officer were going to come out and take us into custody. He agreed to not arrest us, however.”
“Was not being arrested another stipulation of your deal?” I asked Lev.
“That part was Uri’s idea,” Lev said.
“Benjamin said that no matter what happened tonight, the incident couldn’t go unrecorded,” Uri said. “He’d have to give an explanation as to why he and his officer were at the Talpiot tomb. I agreed to give a written statement that said, in effect, I went to the Talpiot tomb to look at the exterior of it, and nothing else. When I arrived, there were some people hanging around, acting suspicious, so I called the police. It was dark, so I couldn’t identify who anyone was, see any features, or even distinguish male or female. I waited for the police to show up, and when they did, the suspicious people ran off.”
All of my questions had been answered and, it seemed, Uri’s and Lev’s story had ended. There was silence between the three of us, and I contemplated everything that had transpired.
I was the first one to speak.
“Why, Uri?” I asked. “Why were you willing to take the fall?”
“I didn’t want you to get wrapped up in our plan, just in case something went wrong,” he said. “And Lev took it upon himself to make his own sacrifice for us, so it was the least I could do.”
Just then, the same two police escorts that had walked Uri back to his cell came around the corner. One of them had a set of keys in his hands. We were being released.
As the three of us made our way to the lobby, Uri said, “Now you understand the full implications of the Talpiot tomb, Mara. What some people are willing to do to protect it.”
“You mean the religious implications of the tomb?” I asked.
Uri nodded. “Allegations that the Talpiot tomb is the final resting place of Jesus of Nazareth is a slight against Christianity.”
“But it’s not even true, Uri!” I said. “At least, it hasn’t been proven, yet. So why are there religious implications for a tomb that hasn’t been proven to be the final resting place of Jesus Christ!”
“The mere thought of it, I suppose,” Lev said, shrugging.
“Yes, the fact that a dialogue even exists is enough to incense some Christians,” Uri said.
“So despite the supposed falsehood of the claims, the very subject of the Talpiot tomb must be kept from the Christians?” I asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m not saying I agree with it, but I believe that is what’s happening,” Uri said. “As you know, I want to keep researching.”
“It sounds silly to me,” I said.
“Jerusalem is a Jewish majority,” Uri said. “There is fear of anti-Semitism.”
So there it was: the reason why the Talpiot tomb might remain buried. Possibly forever. Because of fear of anti-Semitism.
Tovah’s comment to me during my tour of the Rockefeller Museum made sense now:
Israel has seen enough war and terror and doesn’t need another battle on its hands
.
The Bible is, according to Christian tradition, still the best existing historical record of Jesus’ life. It doesn’t say he was married. It doesn’t say he fathered children. It certainly doesn’t say that he left behind a pile of bones in a stone box stored in a family tomb. The Bible mentions spiritual resurrection, my last hope of proving the Talpiot tomb’s validity, but most Christians don’t believe that is a possibility. If any of it was possible, and the truth got out, it could mean World War III. It leant credence to Uri’s comment to his student, who asked about the possibility of a Jesus/Mary Magdalene marriage:
We may never know. We may never be allowed to know.
After we were released, Uri, Lev and I walked out the front door of the police station into the cool night air. I was silent for a minute, allowing my thoughts to sink in, deciding my next move.
“Now what, Miss Mara?” Lev asked.
“Now, I go home.”
The old Mercedes eased through traffic without much trouble. It was early Saturday morning, and the streets and sidewalks of the New City were nearly deserted in observance of the Sabbath. I glanced over at Uri as he drove, a look of constrained intensity on his face that could have easily been mistaken for the focus needed to navigate the normally traffic-choked streets. But there were no distractions to speak of, in the way of a traffic jam or a broken-down car blocking traffic or a pedestrian darting into the street. And yet it was there: a furrow of the brow that contorted his face ever so slightly, as if someone was poking him in the side from the back seat.
Uri’s face betrayed some other emotion, then, and one I had seen only moments before.
“Is everything all right?” I asked as we continued to drive west, now on the outskirts of town.
He looked over at me and gave me a weary smile.
“Of course,” he said.
“I appreciate the ride to the airport. Given the day, I know it is an inconvenience for you.”
“Not at all,” Uri said, tapping his finger on the steering wheel as if keeping in time with the beat of a song only he could hear. “It is no inconvenience.”
“Did I tell you how grateful I am for everything you’ve done?” I asked, turning my attention to his twitching finger.
“Only about a million times,” he said, smiling.
“Well, I’ll probably mention it about a dozen more times on the way to Tel Aviv.”
“It was my pleasure, Mara,” he said.
“Seriously, though, I couldn’t have done any of this without your help.”
His finger abruptly stopped its rhythmic dance as his head snapped in my direction. “But you didn’t accomplish your goal.”
“My goal?”
“You plan to write a novel that would challenge Jesus’ death and resurrection.”
“It’s okay,” I said, waving him off. “I’ve come to terms with the fact that some things aren’t meant to be.”
I realized that that statement, in light of a recent impulsive act, had suddenly taken on new meaning. The thought of my brash move, the embarrassment I now felt, caused me to look away, out the window at the dusty landscape. I didn’t want Uri to see the sudden blush that had arisen in my cheeks.
“I feel responsible,” he said.
“For what?”
“For leading you on a wild-goose chase.”
“Nonsense. It was time well spent,” I said, continuing to watch the city disappear and the dry sands of the Jerusalem suburbs emerge. Suddenly I grew dizzy from allowing myself to focus on each building as it whizzed by. I shut my eyes and fingered the envelope in my hand.
“You were right, though,” I continued after a moment of silence. “What you said at the Bet Shemesh warehouse. I’m only one person trying to tackle an institution that is one billion people strong. I was naive. There’s no way a novel could change their minds.”
