“Jesus followers on Masada, one of them with biological ties to the tomb in the Kidron. One of them a member of the Holy Family. And to prove that I’ve got to prove the James ossuary came from that tomb.”
Jake turned, eyes burning with something that froze my response.
“I thought we had two unrelated first-century finds, each mind-blowing on its own. That’s not true. It’s all connected. The missing Masada skeleton and the Kidron tomb are all part of the same story. And it’s mega, maybe the biggest discovery of the century. Hell, the millennium.”
Jake strode back to the table, picked up the physical anthropology report, laid it down, touched an ossuary photo, then another, stacked the photos, laid the report on top of the stack, ran his finger around its edge.
“This is bigger than evenI imagined, Tempe. And more dangerous.”
“Dangerous? But we no longer have Max. And no one knows about the shroud bones.”
“Not yet.”
“It’s time we tell Blotnik.”
Jake spun on me. “No!”
I jerked as though shocked by live current.
Jake raised an apologetic hand.
“Sorry. My head’s cranking up again. It’s just. I-Not Blotnik.”
“Jake, are you allowing personal feelings to cloud your judgment?”
“Blotnik’s a has-been. No.” Jake snorted. “That’s being charitable. He’s a never-was. And a real asshole.”
“Blotnik could be Caligula, but he heads the IAA. The man must have done something to earn that position.”
“He published a few brilliant articles back in the sixties, got the academic world shitting its fancy French shorts, got a lot of plum offers, then sat back and never wrote another thing of merit. Now he rides on the backs of others.”
“Despite your view of Blotnik, the IAA has authority over antiquities in this country.”
Outside, a car door slammed. Jake’s eyes skittered to the window, to the locked cabinet, then back to mine. Sighing, he picked up and began clicking a ballpoint pen.
“I’ll visit Ruth Anne Bloom this afternoon.”
“Bloom is the physical anthropologist attached to the IAA?”
Jake nodded.
“You’ll tell her about the shroud bones?”
“Yes.” With his free hand, Jake squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“You’re not just saying that?”
“I’m not just saying that.” Jake threw down the pen. “You’re right. It’s too risky to keep the bones here.”
Risky for whom? I wondered, watching Jake cross back to the window. The bones? Jake? Jake’s future career? I knew my friend. He, too, had academic ambitions.
“Would you like me to go with you to the Rockefeller?”
Jake shook his head. “I’ve got to swing by the dig and warn my crew about the Hevrat Kadisha. They know the drill, but I want to be sure the damn bone police don’t take them by surprise.”
I looked at my watch.
“I’m supposed to meet Ryan at the hotel at four. But I can change that.”
“No need. I’ll call you in a couple of hours.”
“You’ll have dinner with us tonight?”
Jake nodded, thinking, no longer listening.
Ryan arrived at my room shortly after I did. I must have looked unhappy.
“You okay?”
I nodded, not wanting to go into details of my spat with Jake.
“How’s your pal?”
“His head’s hurting, but he’s fine.” I slammed the door on the minibar. “Judgmental, but fine.”
Ryan let it go.
“Learn anything useful at thePost?”
Popping a Diet Coke, I told Ryan about the articles in which Yadin contradicted himself concerning the use of radiocarbon dating.
“So the old boy did send materials out of the country. Why wouldn’t he do that with the Masada skeletons?”
“Why not indeed.”
“But listen to this. I got DNA results. A number of individuals in the Kidron tomb had identical sequencing.”
“Meaning they’re related.”
“Yes. But that’s no big deal. It’s a family tomb. You’d expect the people buried there to be related. What is a big deal is that mitochondrial DNA links Max’s odd tooth to that family.”
“Meaning someone buried in Cave 2001 was a member of the family buried in the Kidron tomb.”
I love Ryan’s quickness.
“Exactly. And since Jake’s convinced the Kidron tomb held the members of the Holy Family, that would place early Christians on Masada at the time of the siege.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. The Israelis will be antagonistic to any such suggestion.”
“Jesus people at Masada, maybe even a member of the Holy Family.”
“Exactly. But I still have no idea who Max is.” I took a swig. “Was. His DNA sequencing was unique. If he was related to those in the Kidron tomb, it wasn’t through any of the ladies Jake recovered.”
“Kaplan was dancing around the subject this morning.”
That got my attention.
“Claimed Ferris was on a first-name basis with Max.”
“He had proof of identity?”
“The world according to Kaplan.”
A tingle of excitement ran up my spine. I’d spent a month trying to attach a label to the Masada skeleton. It’d been like chasing smoke in a pitch-black tunnel. If I was honest with myself, I’d come to suspect all hope of individualization had evaporated with time.
“For God’s sake, Ryan. Tell me what Kaplan said.”
“Kaplan claims he never found out. But word on the street was, the bones were big.”
“The street of illegal antiquities?”
Ryan nodded. “Here’s the bad news. Friedman had to cut Kaplan loose.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Kaplan lawyered up. Counsel suggested, ever so politely, that his client’s rights were being violated in that he’d been held well past the legal limit. I believe the term ‘constitutionally impaired’ was directed at Friedman.”
“What about the shoplifting?”
“Litvak dropped his complaint. And I’ve got zilch to tie Kaplan to the Ferris hit.”
“Kaplan admitted he was hired to shoot the guy.”
“He says he didn’t do it.”
“He planned to sell a stolen skeleton.” My voice sounded shrill in the quiet room.
“Intent isn’t a crime. Besides, he’s now claiming he never really intended to hawk the thing. Just made some calls out of curiosity.”
“Bloody hell.”
“Here’s another interesting development. Courtney Purviance is in the wind.”
“Ferris’s secretary has disappeared?”
“When Kaplan first told us about the Masada skeleton, we asked why Ferris decided to sell after hiding the bones for more than thirty years.”
I’d wondered that myself.
“He claimed Ferris’s business was tanking.”
