Standing in the center of the room, beneath three bare bulbs that burned bright, was the same woman from Vienna who’d met him at Schönbrunn.
Israel’s ambassador to Austria.
“You and I need to talk further,” she said to him.
———
ALLE WAS LISTENING TO THE RABBI AND HER FATHER TALK. BOTH men knew things she did not. Especially her father, who’d obviously withheld far more than he’d revealed.
Like the key, which resembled something that might open a pirate’s chest, except that one end was adorned with three Stars of David. The other markings they were discussing were too small to be seen from her vantage point.
Hearing the story of how Berlinger and her great-grandfather had met moved her. She’d never known Marc Eden Cross or his wife, as both died long before she was born. Her grandmother had told her about them, and she’d seen photographs, but knew little except that Cross had been an archaeologist of some renown.
“What was my great-grandfather like?” she asked the rabbi.
The old man smiled at her. “A delightful man. You have his eyes. Did you know that?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been told that before.”
“Why are you here?” Berlinger asked her.
She decided to be coy. “My father brought me.”
Berlinger faced her father. “If you are indeed the Levite, as the message says, then you know your duty.”
“It’s time for that duty to change.”
She saw that the old man was puzzled.
“Such a strange choice in you,” Berlinger said. “I sense anger. Resentment.”
“I didn’t make the choice. All I know is that my daughter and a man named Zachariah Simon are up to something. I don’t know what and I only care about any of it because a man died yesterday for it.”
“Yet you brought her here?”
“What better way to keep an eye on her?”
She resented his tone, but kept her words to herself. She was here to learn and arguing would not accomplish that goal.
Berlinger lifted the key. “I made this a long time ago. My contribution to Marc’s endeavor.”
“What was his endeavor?” she asked.
The rabbi apprised her with a stiff gaze. “He was the chosen one, called the Levite, to whom everything had been entrusted. But he lived at a time of great upheaval. The Nazis changed everything. They even searched for what he guarded.”
“In what way?” her father asked.
“They wanted our Temple treasure. They thought it the ultimate prize in destroying our culture, as the Babylonians and the Romans had done.”
“The Temple treasure has been gone for nearly two thousand years,” her father said.
“But they’d heard the stories, too,” Berlinger said. “As I had. That it survived. That it was hidden away. And only one person knew.” The old man paused. “The Levite.”
“Three days ago I would have said you were insane,” her father said. “Now I can’t do that. There is obviously something going on here.”
Berlinger pointed to the note. “Your father was the Levite. He knew the secret, or at least as much of it as was revealed. Marc was a cautious man. Understandably. So, for the first time in hundreds of years, he changed everything about that secret. He had to, given the times.”
She could only imagine what it had been like to be Jewish in Europe from 1933 to 1945. What horrors those people had experienced. Her grandfather had told her some, things his relatives had described to him. But here, standing before her, was a man who’d seen it firsthand.
“You said that you plan to change things,” Berlinger whispered. “What kind of things?”
“I’m going to find that treasure.”
“Why do such a thing?”
“Why the hell not?” Her father’s voice rose, the anger clear. “Don’t you think it’s stayed hidden long enough?”
“Actually, I agree with you.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
BÉNE STEPPED FROM THE PICKUP TRUCK. HE’D DRIVEN FROM HIS estate west, then north into the mountains, entering St. Mary’s Parish and the same valley he and Tre had visited yesterday, the site identified by the deed grant found in the Jamaican archives. The Flint River flowed nearby, as did a multitude of lesser tributaries dropping from the mountains toward the shore. Frank Clarke had followed him in another vehicle. He was agitated with his friend, irritated with more lies, hurt by how other Maroons might feel about him. He’d been good to those people, done more for them than anyone. Yet they resented him.
He’d searched for the mine on their behalf, only now to be told that they’ve known of it all along.
Ahead, a vehicle was parked, beside which stood Tre Halliburton.
He and Clarke walked over and he said, “How far from here?”
“Maybe a ten-minute hike up that slope to the east.”
A full moon cast the forest in a cold, pale light. Pink heat lightning flickered in the far-off clouds. He’d brought two flashlights and saw that Tre held one, too, along with something else.
He motioned toward the object.
“GPS locator,” Tre said. “Unlike the Spanish, we don’t have to grope in the dark. I have coordinates for the cave site.”
“You really think this is it?”
“I do, Béne. Everything points this way.”
He introduced Tre to Clarke and said, “He’s Maroon, and already knows of this place.”
He handed Frank a flashlight. Through the moonlight he caught the concern on his old friend’s face.
“What else aren’t you telling me?” Béne asked.
But there was no reply.
Instead Frank turned and headed into the trees.
———
ZACHARIAH STARED AT THE AMBASSADOR. “HOW DID YOU KNOW I was in Prague?”
“Those friends of mine,” she said in English. “Did you check on Jamison’s body?”
“Of course. Impressive.”
She nodded at his compliment. “The local mayor here is also a friend. After you contacted him earlier, I did as well.”
“And how did you know I made contact?”
“That phone you carry. If you use it, the world will know.”
“Which means you have friends in the Mossad.”
“Among other places. But, like I said yesterday, they know nothing. This is between you and me.”
“What do you want?”
“A private moment, and I thought this an excellent location.”
“How did you know I would come here?”
“The lord mayor assured me that he would bring you.”
He was uncomfortable with her presence. Yet there was nothing he could do but listen.
“I have to say,” she said, “when I first reasoned out your plan I thought it preposterous. But, on reflection, I began to see that you are right. The Temple Mount is the perfect ignition point.”
Since the 1967 Six-Day War Israel had controlled the city of Jerusalem. As a concession after the fighting, the Supreme Muslim Religious Council had been allowed to continue to police the thirty-five acres known as the Temple Mount. This was the place where God chose the Divine Presence to rest. From where the world expanded into its present form. Where dust was gathered to create the first man. Where Abraham bound Isaac. Jews around the world faced toward it when offering prayers. Solomon had built the First Temple there. The Second Temple rose from the same spot. So holy was the site that rabbinical law forbid Jews to walk there so as to avoid unintentionally stepping where the Holy of Holies once existed.
“You have never mentioned what my plan is,” he said.
She grinned. “No, I have not.”
Maybe it was good she’d come. He had a few questions of his own.