‘Do you think it’s real, the Omega Scroll?’ Allegra asked, pressing for more information.
‘My father certainly does,’ David replied. ‘Although I’m not so sure, yet it’s always in the back of your mind when you’re near an archaeological dig. What about you?’
‘I think your father might be right and whenever people get close to uncovering it, strange things seem to happen. You heard what happened to Professor Rosselli?’
David nodded. ‘A sad business. He and Yossi corresponded regularly. They never found who did it?’
Allegra shook her head. ‘The file’s still open but the trail seems to have gone cold. Your father is still trying to break the codes?’
‘You read his article on the Dead Sea Scrolls?’
‘It made the news in Italy.’
‘I’m not surprised, given what he wrote. You will meet him tomorrow, after our briefing at the Rockefeller. I’ll take you for a walk through the Old City and around seven-thirty-ish, if you feel up to it, we can mosey over to the Shrine of the Book. The Professor’s giving a briefing on the Dead Sea Scrolls to a bunch of visiting American congressmen.’
‘The Professor?’
‘My father, it’s a term of endearment. I’ve arranged our briefing at the museum for half past three so I’ll pick you up about quarter past two. Ish. Just in case the Palestinians are out and about and causing havoc.’ David’s comment was not entirely in jest.
‘Is that a problem?’
‘It’s been pretty quiet here for the last couple of months, but in Israel you never can tell. You get used to it. Most people are in the Reserves which is a continual reminder that the country has to be protected.’
‘You’re in the Army?’
‘Used to be. Pretty well everyone serves in the Defense Force, unless you’re pregnant or a mother. I gather you’d have to sign up,’ he added, laughing.
‘On both counts!’ Allegra found herself responding to this interesting Israeli. She felt relaxed and at ease with a man who obviously didn’t take life too seriously.
‘How long did you serve for?’
‘Conscription runs for three years and after that you’re still assigned to a frontline Reserve unit until you’re thirty-nine. If there’s a war the whole country is mobilised. Buses and taxis carry troops, private planes and boats go into the Air Force and Navy and construction bulldozers and cranes go into the Engineers. All in all, we can put a quarter of a million troops into the field overnight. Back in 1973 it was very nearly not enough.’
‘Were you involved then?’
David nodded. ‘Pretty well everyone was. I had a gig in the ’67 event too.’
Allegra smiled to herself. Somehow David Kaufmann struck her as someone who would find the discipline of the armed forces irksome.
‘And your father?’
‘Far more distinguished career than mine. He was one of the youngest generals in the Army, although not everyone’s a fan. He has a view, and I agree with him, that fighting the Arabs is never going to solve the problem, but the High Command and a lot of politicians in this country expect their generals to be a bit more gung-ho. I don’t think he’s the flavour of the month with the Vatican right now either.’
‘Yes, after your father’s article on the codes in the Dead Sea Scrolls I can understand why the cardinal’s club would not be amused.’
‘That’s putting it mildly. I gather the Secretary of State – what’s his name – Petroli?’
‘Petroni.’ Allegra shivered with the memory.
‘That’s the fellow,’ David said, pulling out to push his way past a bus that was billowing thick black smoke. Up until now the road had been dead flat, passing through ploughed fields and the rich red soils of the fertile coastal plain, but now they had reached the rocky foothills of the Judaean mountains.
‘I gather he was bordering on apoplexy. I’m sorry, are you a Catholic?’
‘Don’t worry, lapsed, very lapsed,’ Allegra replied, deciding that now was not the time to go into her time in a convent. ‘You?’
‘Legally I’m Jewish.’
‘Legally?’
‘Being a Jew can be a bit complicated. If your mother is Jewish or you convert to Judaism, regardless of where you are born, according to Jewish law you are accepted as being a Jew. It’s a kind of worldwide citizenship. If you’re asking if I share the religious beliefs of the Orthodox Jews then the answer is no. I suppose I’m of no fixed religion. My father has a strong faith although only God would know how he’s kept it. He and my mother both lost their parents in the Holocaust. My mother’s pretty normal though!’
‘You seem remarkably well informed on the Vatican?’ Allegra was intrigued by his earlier observations.
‘My father is good friends with the bishop here, an Irish fellow by the name of O’Hara. Funnily enough he doesn’t seem too religious either. Nice guy. You’ll get to meet him too.’
As they reached the top of the long climb to the outskirts of Jerusalem, Allegra still couldn’t believe she was actually here.
‘The Old City goes back about four thousand years,’ David explained, not realising just how ‘lapsed’ Allegra was. ‘King David made it the Jewish capital about a thousand years before Christ after he beat the piss and pick handles out of the Philistines.’
Allegra smiled. She knew she would continue to enjoy David Kaufmann’s irreverent turn of phrase.
‘Not long after that his son Solomon built the first temple. That lasted about four hundred years until the good old Babylonians came in and knocked it over in 586 BC. Nehemiah built the second one about forty years later.’ David swerved to avoid a yellow Palestinian taxi. ‘Alexander the Great knocked the city off again in 332 BC, but the second temple lasted until the Romans in their inimitable style razed it to the ground in 70 AD. The Western Wailing Wall is all that’s left.’
At the end of the old Jaffa Road, they reached Zahal Square and Allegra got her first glimpse of the walls of the Old City. From her research Allegra knew that the walls themselves had survived since they had been built by Suleiman the Magnificent, the Ottoman sultan of Istanbul fame, in 1537. Against the backdrop of the wall, a contrast of ancient and modern pushed Allegra’s senses to their limits. A cacophony of cars, trucks, tourist buses, sheruts – the white Israeli minibuses – and their yellow Palestinian equivalents jostled for space on the crowded road.
‘That’s the Jaffa Gate and further down you can see the Citadel,’ David said, pointing to the massive blocks at the base of a huge stone tower. ‘Otherwise known as the Tower of David. Just before Christ’s time Herod rebuilt it, and today it houses the Museum of the History of Jerusalem. When we haven’t got you out searching for more Dead Sea Scrolls, you and the Old City can get better acquainted.’
‘I’m looking forward to that,’ Allegra said as David swung Onslow into the car park of the hotel.
Dusky lights accentuated the front of the American Colony Hotel, one of Jerusalem’s most famous and stylish hotels. The architecture was typically Turkish fortress style and the rooms looked onto a beautiful old stone courtyard and well cared for palm trees, gardens and fountains.
‘Would you like a table, Dr Kaufmann?’ asked Abdullah, the Cellar Bar’s long-serving barman, indicating a vacant alcove under one of the old sandstone archways.
David looked at Allegra and raised an eyebrow.
‘I’d be happy to stand at the bar. I’ve been sitting in a plane for hours,’ she said, smiling at Abdullah. ‘I’ll have a beer thanks.’
‘A woman after my own heart,’ David responded.
‘Shalom,’ David said, raising his glass after Abdullah had brought the drinks.
‘David!’
David turned around to see Tom Schweiker walking into the bar.
‘Tom! How are you? It’s been a while. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Dr Allegra Bassetti. Allegra is an expert in archaeological DNA and is joining us to do some research. Allegra, meet Tom Schweiker. Tom’s a journalist but don’t let that put you off, some of them are actually quite decent!’