Useless information, considering all that happened afterward. “I remember the day the Israeli flag flying atop the Dome of the Rock was lowered. My father cried. So did I. That was when I resolved to never concede anything to our enemies.”
The ambassador knelt down, examining some of the rotting papers. “They lie here, in the dark, and slowly disappear. So sad.”
But there was something more important. “Like the bodies encasing us.”
She stood and faced him. “I want to hear more about your spark.”
Enough. “I want to hear what you know.”
———
TOM TRIED TO PROCESS WHAT BERLINGER HAD JUST SAID. “You agree with me?”
“Marc and I debated this point at length. He felt strongly that the secret should remain hidden. I thought then it was time Jews were restored their sacred treasures. Why not? Christians, Muslims, Buddhists all have theirs. Should not we also be allowed?”
He watched Alle, who was processing everything that was being said. He decided to offer her the complete note. “Here’s what your grandfather actually wrote.”
She accepted the paper and read.
“Why is their such tension between you two?” Berlinger asked.
“She hates me.”
“Is that true?” the rabbi asked Alle.
She looked up from the page and asked him, “Why did you trick me?”
“Your loyalty is to Simon.”
“Who is Simon?” Berlinger asked.
And he told him.
“I know the man. He has been here several times. His money is appreciated by some.”
“But not you?”
“I am always cautious with men who offer money freely.”
“He’s dangerous as hell,” Tom said. “He’s after the Temple treasure. And so is the American government. Any idea why?”
He saw that the information caught the old man by surprise.
“Marc was afraid that, one day, the secret could no longer be contained. His fears were centered on Germany and the Nazis. Mine were, too, but eventually I feared the Soviets more. Neither of us, though, thought of a threat from one of our own. Is Simon after the treasure for all Jews?”
“That’s exactly what he wants,” Alle said. “He agrees with you. It’s time we have our sacred vessels restored.”
“But you don’t concur,” Berlinger said to Tom.
“That’s the last thing Simon wants.”
“Then what is he after?”
“My father,” Alle said, “believes Zachariah is a danger. You may or may not know, but my father was once a newspaper reporter. He was fired for fabricating a story. So you better keep that in mind before you start listening to his tales.”
He slammed his hands onto the table and sprang from the chair. “I’ve had enough of your smart mouth. You don’t have a clue what happened with that story. I understand that you want to believe I’m a cheat and a fraud. That probably helps you keep on hating me. But you listen to me. I made enough mistakes with you as a father. Hate me for those, if you want. But don’t hate me for something that I didn’t do.”
His gaze bore into her.
Alle stared back.
Berlinger gently laid a hand on his arm.
He faced the rabbi, who nodded slightly, indicating that he should retake his seat.
He did.
“We have to make some decisions,” Berlinger said, his voice low. “Important decisions. Both of you, come with me.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
BENE FOLLOWED TRE, WHO LAGGED BEHIND FRANK CLARKE. None of them had switched on their flashlights. No need. Sharp rays of bright moonlight provided more than enough illumination. Tre was reading the GPS, but Frank plunged ahead without any electronic aid.
“He’s headed straight for it,” Tre said to him.
No surprise, considering the conversation he’d had with Clarke back at the estate. He’d never thought his old friend would deceive him in such a way. But that violation had made him cautious, so he’d come prepared, a semiautomatic tucked into a shoulder holster beneath his open shirt.
