The Sacred Bones (31 page)

Now, it was a book that seemed to threaten everything he held sacred. The very institution that had protected him was under attack.

For a long moment he stared behind the glass panel at the
Ephemeris Conlusio
-- the lost scripture that had set in motion the momentous events leading to the theft in Jerusalem. It was hard to grasp that it was only two weeks earlier that he had presented this incredible discovery to the Vatican secretary of state. He saw the meeting with Santelli as clear as day, as if a movie played in his memory.

"It's not often I receive such urgent requests for an appointment from the Vatican Library." Cardinal Santelli's hands lay folded on his desk.

Seated opposite, Father Donovan clutched his leather satchel. "Apologies for the short notice, Eminence. But I hope you'll agree that the reason I've come here warrants your immediate attention...and will justify why I have chosen not to involve Cardinal Giancome."

Vincenzo Giancome, the
Cardinale Archivista e Bibliotecario,
was Donovan's superior and acted as the supreme overseer of the Vatican Secret Archive. He was also the man who'd tabled Donovan's fervent request to acquire the Judas Papers. So after much deliberation, Donovan had made the unorthodox decision of not including Giancome in on this matter-- a bold move that could potentially backfire and cost him his career. But he was certain that what he was about to divulge would directly involve matters of national security-- not reserve documents. Furthermore, the mystery caller had specifically chosen Donovan for this task and there was no time for delays or bureaucratic infighting.

"What is it?" Santelli looked bored.

Donovan was unsure exactly where to begin. "You recall a few years back when the Chinon Parchment was discovered in the Secret Archive?"

"Clement's secret dismissal of charges brought against the Knights Templar?"

"Correct. I came to you with further documents detailing the clandestine meeting between Clement V and Jacques DeMolay, the Templar Grand Master." Donovan swallowed hard. "The pope's account specifically mentioned a manuscript called the
Ephemeris Conlusio
, supposedly containing information about the Templars' hidden relics."

"An attempt to restore the Templar Order," Santelli interjected. "And a rather crude attempt at that."

"But I think you'll agree that DeMolay's negotiations had to be quite compelling for Clement to have exonerated the Templars after ordering their disbandment."

"A fabrication. No book was ever produced by Jacques DeMolay."

"Agreed." Donovan dug into his satchel and retrieved the book. "Because it wasn't in his possession."

Santelli shifted his chair. "What is that you have there?"

"This is the
Ephemeris Conlusio
."

Santelli was bewildered. This was one legend he had always hoped to be pure fantasy. None of the Vatican's darkest secrets began to compare. He clung to the hope that the librarian was wrong, but Donovan's confident gaze confirmed his worst fears. "You're not suggesting..."

"Yes," he confidently replied. "Let me explain."

Donovan recounted the history of Jacques DeMolay's imprisonment, his secret discussion with Clement, his trial in Paris in front of Notre Dame cathedral and final execution on the Ile des Javiaux. "Apparently his dying curse worked," Donovan explained. "Pope Clement V died one month later from what many accounts say was severe dysentery-- a hideous death. Seven months later, King Philip IV died mysteriously during a hunt. Witnesses attributed the accident to a lingering disease that caused him to bleed rapidly to death. Many speculated that the Knights Templar had exacted their revenge."

Santelli looked spooked. "Poisoned?"

"Perhaps." Donovan shrugged. "Meanwhile the Holy Land had been fully reclaimed by the Muslims. The European countries and the Church lacked proper funding to stage further crusades to retake it. Pope Clement's documents and the Chinon Parchment gathered dust in the Secret Archive as the papal conclave focused on its two-year struggle to restore the insolvent papacy. The
Ephemeris Conlusio
-- this book-- faded into history," Donovan explained. "Until I received a phone call this week." Donovan summarized his phone conversation with the mystery caller, then went on to describe the transaction with the caller's messenger in Caffe Greco. Santelli listened intently, hand covering his mouth. When Donovan finished, he waited for the cardinal's response.

"Have you read it?"

Donovan nodded. As the Archive's senior curator he was a polyglot-- proficient in ancient Aramaic, and completely fluent in Greek and Latin.

"What does it say?"

"Many disturbing things. Apparently this book isn't a Templar document
per se
. It's a journal written by Joseph of Arimathea."

"I don't understand, Patrick."

"The entries in these pages chronicle many events specific to Christ's ministry. Eyewitness accounts of miracles, like his healing the lame and lepers. His teachings, his travels with the disciples-- it's all referenced here. In fact, after reviewing the language, I'm convinced this book is 'Q.'"

Biblical historians had long theorized that a common source influenced the
synoptic
-- or "one eye"-- Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke since all three spoke of the historical Jesus in a common sequence and writing style. The
synoptic
Gospels, believed to be written between 60 CE and 100 CE, each bore the name of an actual disciple who inspired the work, though all three authors were actually unknown.

Santelli was temporarily encouraged by this, but acutely aware that Father Donovan remained troubled.

"There's much more here, however," Donovan warned. "The book describes events leading to Jesus's apprehension and crucifixion. Again, most of Joseph's account is in agreement with the synoptic Gospels...with some minor discrepancies. According to Joseph of Arimathea, he himself secretly negotiated with Pontius Pilate to remove Christ from the cross, in exchange for a hefty sum."

"A bribe?"

"Yes. Probably a supplement to Rome's meager pension." Donovan took a deep breath and gathered himself. "In the New Testament, Jesus's body was supposedly laid out for burial in Joseph's family crypt."

"Before you continue, I must ask. This Templar relic...the book. Is it authentic?"

"I had the parchment, leather, and ink dated. The origin is unquestionably first century. But this book isn't the relic Jacques DeMolay implied. It's merely a means of finding the real treasure he alluded to."

Santelli stared at him.

"Joseph of Arimathea describes Jesus's burial rituals in vivid detail. How the body was cleaned, wrapped in spices and linen, and then bound. Coins were placed over the eyes." Donovan's voice sank an octave. "It claims that the body was laid out in Joseph's tomb...for twelve months."

"
A year
?" Santelli was aghast. "Patrick, this isn't yet more Gnostic scripture?" In the past Donovan had routinely briefed him on the many pre-biblical writings that presented Jesus quite differently-- an attempt by early leaders to entice pagans to adopt the Christian faith. Many of those stories were wildly exaggerated, rife with philosophical interpretations of Jesus's teachings.

"According to Joseph-- the man entrusted with burying Jesus-- there never was a physical resurrection. You see..." There was no subtle way for him to say what needed to be said. He locked eyes with the cardinal. "Christ died a mortal death."

It wasn't the first time Santelli had heard this argument. "But we've been through all this before-- assertions about early Christians seeing resurrection as being spiritual not physical." He gestured at the book dismissively. "This
Ephemeris Conlusio
is a clear contradiction to scripture. I'm glad you found it. We'll need to ensure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. We don't need some enemy of the Church rushing off to the media."

"I'm afraid there's more."

Santelli watched silently as Donovan reached into his satchel and removed a furled, yellow scroll. He laid it out on the desk.

The Cardinal leaned in. "What is this?"

"A technical illustration-- a kind of map, actually."

He made a face. "Certainly doesn't look technical to me. A child could have drawn this."

The one-dimensional style used to draft the image was simplistic, Donovan would agree. But three-dimensional illustrations weren't employed until the Renaissance period, and he wasn't about to belabor the point with Santelli.

"Despite its lack of detail, there are a few critical things you can see here," Donovan explained. He indicated the elongated rectangular base. "This is Temple Mount in Jerusalem." Then he pointed to the image drawn atop it. "This is the Jewish Temple that was built by Herod the Great, later destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD. As you know, the Dome of the Rock Mosque is there now."

Santelli looked up sharply. "Temple Mount?"

"Yes," Donovan confirmed. "This is Joseph of Arimathea's representation of how it appeared in 30 AD during the time of Christ."

Donovan explained that Joseph's writings described in great detail what the temple looked like-- its rectangular courtyards and sacred Tabernacle; its storage houses for oil and wood; the water basins used to consecrate sacrificial offerings and the wooden pyres to burn sacred animals during Passover. He said that Joseph had even noted the temple's sacred threshold beyond which gentiles were forbidden to cross-- a railed, outer perimeter called the "
Chell
." Then there was the account of the Roman garrison that adjoined Temple Mount-- the place where Jesus was taken before Pontius Pilate.

"But it's this spot here"-- Donovan pointed to the small darkened square that Joseph had drawn inside the gut of the platform-- "that's most important. It's meant to show the location of Jesus's crypt. In the text, Joseph includes specific measurements as to its proximity from the Temple Mount's outer walls."

Santelli's hand was over his mouth again. For a few seconds he remained perfectly still.

Beyond the window the looming black clouds finally made good on their threat.

"After obtaining the
Ephemeris Conlusio
," Donovan continued, "I researched the site in great detail. I'm absolutely certain that the secret crypt is still there. I believe that Crusaders-- the Knights Templar, in fact-- might have discovered the crypt and secured it."

"How can you be so sure?"

Donovan reached across the desk and carefully turned the ancient pages, stopping on a group of sketches. "This is why."

The cardinal had trouble comprehending what appeared to be a catalogued collection-- the drawing style equally crude.

"Those items," Donovan went on, "are the relics that Joseph of Arimathea buried in the crypt. The bones, coins, and nails. Plus the ossuary, of course. These are the things Jacques DeMolay was referring to."

Santelli was thunderstruck. Slowly his eyes settled on an image of a dolphin wrapped around a trident "That symbol there. What does it mean?"

"It's the reason I'm sure these items are still secure." He explained its significance.

Santelli crossed himself and set it down.

"If these relics had ever been discovered, without a doubt, it would certainly have been referenced somewhere. In fact, we probably wouldn't even be sitting here having this conversation if they had been." Donovan retrieved yet another document from his satchel. "Then there's this recent article from the
Jerusalem Post
which our mysterious benefactor included with the book."

Santelli snatched it away and repeated the
Post
's headline out loud. "'Jewish and Muslim Archaeologists Cleared to Excavate Beneath Temple Mount.'"

Donovan gave Santelli time to absorb the rest of the article, then spoke up. "Since Israeli peace accords don't permit digging on the site, the Templar Knights are Temple Mount's last known excavators. But in 1996 the Muslim trust that oversees the site was permitted to clear rubble from a vast chamber beneath the platform-- a space that was once used by the Templars as a stable, and completely blocked off since their twelfth-century occupation. The messenger who delivered this book was an Arab. Therefore, I'm fairly certain that the
Ephemeris Conlusio
must have been discovered by the Muslims during their excavations."

"But why have they waited until now to present it?"

"At first, I too was suspicious," Donovan confessed. "Though now I've got a good idea as to why." From the satchel he retrieved a modern drawing-- his own. The final exhibit of the presentation. "When the areas were cleared, the Muslims converted that space into what is now called the Marwani Mosque. Here's an aerial view of the Temple Mount as it stands today. Using Joseph's measurements, I've calculated the precise location of the crypt."

On the schematic, Donovan had converted the ancient Roman measuring units,
gradii
-- one
gradus
equal to almost three-quarters of a meter-- to their modern metric equivalent. "I've marked in red the area that is now the Marwani Mosque, situated about eleven meters below the esplanade's surface." The shape of the subterranean mosque looked like a stacked bar chart.