PART III
THE CRESCENT’S SHADOW
43
“Sophie, I think I may have a hot one for you.”
Sam Levine nearly tripped as he burst into the Director of Antiquities’ office. The cuts and bruises on his face from the incident at Caesarea had mostly healed, but he still carried a large scar on his cheek from the encounter with the Arab thieves. Sophie was seated at her desk, studying a Tel Aviv police report on a grave looting, but looked up with interest.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“One of our network informants, an Arab boy named Tyron, reports a possible dig tonight in the Muslim cemetery at Kidron.”
“Kidron? That’s just over the wall from the Old City. Somebody’s getting rather brazen.”
“If it is even true. Tyron has had a spotty track record when it comes to tips.”
“Who is supposedly turning the shovels?”
“I only got one name out of him, a petty thief named Hassan Akais,” Sam replied, sliding into a chair opposite Sophie’s desk.
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Sophie replied after contemplating the name. “Should I know him?”
“We picked him up a few years ago on a raid at Jaffa. We didn’t have enough on him to press charges, so he was let go. Seems to have kept his hands clean since then. He’s been paying our informant to tend some sheep, and apparently the boy overheard talk of an operation tonight.”
“It sounds like small fish to me.”
“I thought so, too. But then there’s this,” Sam said, handing Sophie a computer printout. “I ran his name through the system and, lo and behold, the Mossad suspects him of having possible links to the Mules.”
Sophie leaned forward and studied the paper with heightened interest.
“His links appear a bit tenuous, at best,” Sam added, “but I thought you would want to know.”
Sophie nodded as she finished reading the report but neglected to pass it back to Sam.
“I would like to talk to this Hassan,” she finally replied in a measured tone.
“We’re a bit thin for an operation tonight. Lou and the gang are in Haifa until tomorrow, and Robert is home sick with the flu.”
“Then it will just have to be you and me, Sammy. Any objections?”
Sam shook his head. “If this guy had anything to do with Caesarea, then I want him, too.”
They made their plans for the evening rendezvous, then Sam rose and left the office. Sophie had resumed reading the police report when she suddenly felt someone staring at her. She looked up in surprise to see Dirk, standing outside her doorway, holding a large bouquet of lilacs in his hand.
“Pardon me, I’m looking for the chief gunslinger around here,” he said with a radiant smile.
Sophie practically leaped out of her chair.
“Dirk, I didn’t think you’d be free until next week,” she said, hopping over and giving him a peck on the cheek.
“The university suspended the excavation at Caesarea for the season, so I guess my work is through for now,” he said, placing the flowers on her desk. He then grabbed her in a tight embrace and kissed her. “I missed you,” he whispered.
Sophie felt her skin flush, then remembered her office door was open.
“I can take a short break,” she stammered. “Shall we go have lunch?”
As soon as he nodded, she led him away from the prying eyes of the office and into a nearby courtyard.
“I know a beautiful spot to picnic in the Old City. We can grab something to eat along the way,” she offered.
“Sounds perfect,” he said. “I haven’t seen much of Jerusalem. A walk in the streets is always the best way to capture the essence of an interesting city.”
Sophie grabbed his hand and led him off the manicured grounds of the Rockefeller Museum. Just a short distance away stood Herod’s Gate, one of a handful of entry points into Jerusalem’s Old City. Roughly a mile square, the Old City is the religious heart of Jerusalem, containing the historical landmarks of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Western Wall, and the Dome of the Rock. An imposing stone wall constructed by the Ottoman Turks over four hundred years ago runs in a complete perimeter around the historic section.
Walking through the gate and into the Muslim Quarter, Dirk admired the aged beauty of the cut limestone, which seemed to be the basis of every monument, business, and residence in the city no matter how shabby or dilapidated. But he was more amused watching the diverse population making their way through the narrow streets and alleys. Spotting an Armenian Jew waiting for a crossing light beside an Ethiopian in a white robe and a Palestinian wearing a
Sophie guided him down a dark and dusty alley that led to a bustling open-air market called, in Arabic, a
“You said you wanted some local flavor, so here it is,” Sophie teased, making Dirk carry their ad hoc lunch.
She led him down a few more blocks, then crossed onto the grounds of the St. Anne’s Church. A graceful stone structure built by the Crusaders, its location in the heart of the Muslim Quarter represented one of the many peculiar juxtapositions to be found in the ancient city.
“A nice Jewish girl is taking me to a Christian church?” Dirk asked with a chuckle.
“We’re actually headed to the grounds in back of the church. A place that I thought an underwater explorer might enjoy visiting. In addition to the fact,” she added with a wink, “it’s a lovely spot for a picnic.”
They entered the property and made their way to the rear grounds, where they found an open area shaded by mature sycamore trees. A trail led a short distance to a fenced chasm that dropped away like an open mine. Remnants of brick walls, stone columns, and ancient arches rose from the dry base of the cavity.
“This was the original Pool of Bethesda,” Sophie said as they peered down into the now-dusty depths. “It was originally a reservoir for the First and Second Temples, then baths were later constructed. Of course, it was better known as a healing center after it was written that Jesus cured an invalid here. There’s not much water left, I’m afraid.”
“Probably just as well,” Dirk replied. “Otherwise, it would be wall-to-wall tourists vying to take a bath.”
They found a secluded bench beneath a towering sycamore, where they sat down and attacked their lunch, passing the delicacies back and forth.
“Tell me, how is Dr. Haasis getting on?” she asked.
“Quite well, actually. I just visited him this morning before traveling to Jerusalem. He’s resting at home but eager to get back to work. The leg wound didn’t prove serious, so he should be free of his crutches in another week or two.”
“The poor fellow. I feel so sorry for him.”
“He told me he feels bad for you. He seems to think it was his fault that your agents were placed in such a dangerous situation.”
