The City of Lost Secrets: A Mara Beltane Mystery (11 page)

“Yes, my dear friend,” Uri confirmed.

“Professor, I referred Miss Mara to you because I thought you would help her,” Lev said, clearly agitated. “Please don’t involve me! I got in so much trouble last time!”

Uri stepped forward and reached his hand out, as if to comfort Lev with a friendly squeeze on the arm. “I know, Lev. I understand. Just listen…”

“You don’t need my help,” Lev said, shrugging away from Uri’s touch.

“Yes, we do,” Uri said. “You are the only one with influence.”

“Professor, I have shamed my family! And I have police watching my every move!”

All I could do was stand there in stunned silence as the two Israelis carried on with their own private conversation.  

“We were foolish last time,” Uri said. “We won’t be this time. We’ll better prepare, have a back-up plan.”

Lev threw his hands in the air. “Hasn’t this tomb cost you enough?” Uri lowered his head, as if to give himself a private moment to think. He sighed, then looked at Lev. “I don’t regret what we did. Do you?”

“I…I don’t know,” Lev said.

“Wasn’t it worth it in the end, to see what only a handful of people in the whole world have seen?” Uri said. “To experience what may be the most significant find of all antiquity?”

Lev did not respond. His eyes were skyward, searching, like the appropriate reply was written on the ceiling.

Uri tried again to get through to the boy. “Was your sacrifice too great?”

Lev sighed and flopped his long arms against his sides in what looked like a sign of defeat.

“I feel sorry for you, professor, really I do,” he said. “Your sacrifice was much greater than mine, of course. But that was your choice, not mine. You came to me. You asked for my help.”

“I do not blame you for what happened to me, Lev. You are right. I asked for your help and you gave it, willingly and unselfishly. Believe me, I feel guilty for what happened to you.”

“Then why?” Lev asked. “Why ask me to sacrifice again? Why take the risk when we all have so much to lose?”

“Look at this opportunity we have been given,” Uri said, grasping his hands together as if imploring, almost begging, Lev for help. “A second chance to see the Talpiot tomb! And a chance for me to make things up to you.”

“And Miss Mara?” Lev asked, acknowledging me for the first time in several minutes. “What role does she play in all this?” Are you using her as your excuse to clean your slate?”

Uri shrank back, surprised by Lev’s accusation. “Absolutely not!” He turned to me and grasped both of my shoulders. “Mara, you have been given this wonderful opportunity as well. You have met two people in Jerusalem who are able to get you inside the Talpiot tomb! Isn’t this what you came here for?” He raised his eyebrows and set his mouth, the way I had seen him address his students. He was waiting for me to tell him yes, that I believed his intentions were good.

It did seem awfully convenient for Uri, my presence in Jerusalem. He could be using me and my desire to see the tomb for his own selfish motivations. But wasn’t that the exact thing I was doing? Was I not using Lev and his connections, whatever they were, and Uri and his knowledge to write a novel that I hoped would turn Christianity on its head? Wasn’t I being selfish and disingenuous?

Giving Uri and Lev a chance to see the tomb a second time did seem like a good way for me to cleanse my conscience, though. And Uri had spent a lot of time with me already, teaching me what he knew and showing me around his great city.  So for those two reasons I chose to believe him.

I nodded at Uri, who smiled in recognition of my trust in him and my willingness to sacrifice whatever it took to see the Talpiot tomb. We both looked at Lev, putting the ball in his court.

Lev sighed heavily. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he said. He looked past the two of us and through the glass door of the shop into the bustling alleyways of the marketplace, searching. “But we can’t meet here. It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s already too late,” Uri said. “Mara received a phone call yesterday. And so did I.”

I snapped my head over in Uri’s direction. “You received a similar call yesterday?” I asked him. “Someone breathing on the other end who didn’t say anything?”

Uri nodded.

“It wasn’t a prank call?” I asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means that someone knows what you plan to do. And they know that I am involved.”

Lev’s eyes grew big as he looked at us. “Miss Mara, who knows you are here in Jerusalem?”

That was an easy one. I’d only told two people. “My best friend back home in the States and my literary agent.”

“Who else?” he prodded. “Who here in Jerusalem have you spoken to?”

“Abigail Greenberg,” I said, looking at Uri for reassurance that the archaeologist, whom I had spoken to several days before by phone, was who she claimed to be.

“Who?” Lev asked.

Uri smiled as if recalling an old memory. “Abigail Greenberg,” Uri said. “She is a dear friend of mine. She taught me a lot about archeology and encouraged my studies.”

Lev opened his mouth as if to object or argue but Uri cut him off.

“She poses no threat to us or our progress,” Uri said.

“How do you know?” Lev asked.

“I just do,” Uri said reassuringly.

“So who else knows you’re here, Miss Mara? You must have spoken to someone about the Talpiot tomb…?”

I had emailed various people during my initial research back home. But since only one had responded, Abigail Greenburg, I had to assume the rest deleted my message without giving my request a second thought. Surely none of them would be perturbed by my presence in Jerusalem.

The only person I had spoken to about the Talpiot tomb-—other than Uri and Lev--was Tovah from the Rockefeller Museum. We had gotten into a rather heated discussion about the possibility of it being the final resting place of Jesus of Nazareth. As an employee of the Israel Antiquities Authority--the governing body that runs Jerusalem’s museums and oversees its treasures—-Tovah was probably obligated to say that the tomb and the ossuaries found inside were not extraordinary and warranted no further research. In response, I told her that it wasn’t up to the IAA to decide. The tomb should be open to the public and the ossuaries should be on display, not hidden away in a warehouse. Let the court of public opinion decide.

“I think the IAA knows,” I said. 

“
What
?” Lev exclaimed, his face red.

Uri put up a hand to calm him. “What do you mean? How could the IAA know?”

“I had a private tour of the Rockefeller Museum a few days ago,” I explained. “So I asked for the tour guide’s opinion of the Talpiot tomb and the ossuaries.”

“Miss Mara! Why would you do that?”

“The IAA was in charge of the excavation and still stores the ossuaries in one of their facilities, so who better to ask?” I asked, shrugging.

“What happened?” Uri asked me.

“Our discussion got rather heated,” I said, laughing, recalling how the tour guide’s nostrils flared like a bull at the mere mention of the tomb. “I mentioned the documentary that claims the tomb might belong to Jesus and his family. She denied this possibility.”

“I figured as much,” Uri said, stroking his chin, as if contemplating how to proceed in light of this new information. “We’ll have to be especially careful now.”

“Why?” I asked. “What’s the big deal?”

“It’s a bigger deal than you think,” Lev said.

“I’d read about the IAA’s response to the documentary’s claims,” I said. “I know that they feel the Talpiot tomb is just that: a tomb, but…”

Uri and Lev were looking at each other as I spoke.

“What?” I asked the both of them.

“Ziva,” Lev said to Uri, ignoring my question.

Uri contemplated for a moment. “Yes, Ziva,” he agreed.

Again, the two Israelis ignored my pleas and engaged in their own private conversation.

“Do you think she knows?” Lev asked Uri.

“I can’t be certain. But it’s a good possibility. Have you spoken to her much since the incident?”

“A few times,” Lev said. “You?”

“Yes, a few times,” Uri said. “But we mustn’t worry ourselves about that right now.”

Uri turned to me, determination in his eyes. “Mara, are you ready for a once-in-a-lifetime experience?”

I looked at Lev, who was smirking at me.

“I suppose,” I said, turning back to Uri.

“There must be certainty,” Uri said. “Because once we start, there’s no turning back.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jerusalem Post 

October 15, 2007

PROMINENT PROFESSOR, LOCAL BOY ACCUSED OF BREAK-IN AT TALPIOT TOMB

Dr. Uri Nevon, professor and biblical scholar at Hebrew University, and Lev Geller, a shop clerk in Old City, were arrested yesterday for illegally gaining entrance to the Talpiot tomb, a controversial burial cave in the Talpiot suburb of Jerusalem that a recent documentary claims is the lost tomb of Jesus of Nazareth.

“I heard what sounded like a jackhammer,” said a resident of the apartment complex that sits beside the now-covered tomb. “I looked out my window {that faces the tomb} and saw shadows and heard voices and knew right away what was going on.”

When police arrived on the scene, they discovered that the slab of concrete covering the tomb had been pried away. A young man, identified later as 20-year-old Lev Geller, was found at the scene near the entrance of the tomb. He initially told police he was alone, but several minutes later the 40-year-old professor emerged from the tomb, confessing his role in the break-in. Neither men resisted arrest.

The Talpiot tomb was discovered in 1980 during a construction project. The tomb was found to contain ten ossuaries, six with names inscribed on them. The cave didn’t create any controversy when it was initially found; many such tombs have been discovered in and around Jerusalem and Israel, most of which are believed to be first-century burial chambers of upper-class Jewish families.

But a recent documentary, which initially aired in early 2007 on the Discovery Channel, has stirred up controversy for its claim that the Talpiot tomb is the final resting place of Jesus of Nazareth. The documentary also claims the cave contained the remains of several of Jesus’ family members, including his mother, Mary, and brother, James, and that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene and they had a son, Judah. Both of their ossuaries, the documentary says, were also found in the Talpiot tomb.

Biblical scholars, archaeologists and educators the world over have come forward to express their doubts and question the validity of the research that was used to derive at the claims made in the documentary. It has sparked a worldwide debate that is unlikely to end anytime soon.

It is believed Dr. Nevon gained access to the inner chamber of the tomb where the ossuaries had once been housed and was inside for several minutes before police arrived. It is also believed Mr. Geller served as a look-out. Nothing was missing from the tomb, as it had been emptied of its contents by archeologists working for the Israel Antiquities Authority when it was excavated 27 years ago. It is uncertain as to why the two men would want to gain access to an empty tomb.

Since the break-in, the tomb entrance has been under 24/7 security surveillance.

Public speculation suggests that Dr. Nevon and Mr. Geller did not act alone, and that other parties may have been involved in helping the two men gain access to the tomb. Jerusalem police doubt this is the case.

“There is no evidence that this was an inside job, or that other parties were involved,” said Jerusalem station chief Benjamin Schwarz. “These two men acted alone. End of story.”

The Talpiot apartment owner’s association--which arranged to have the tomb sealed after it was discovered to avoid injury to its residents--refused to comment for this story. The IAA--which has jurisdiction over the antiquities found in the tomb but not the tomb itself--has also refused comment.

The fates of the two men are yet to be determined.

*  *  *

The Bloomfield Library for the Humanities and Social Sciences, on the Mt. Scopus campus of Hebrew University where Uri taught, is north of the city of Jerusalem. I was in the Current Periodicals Reading Room on the third floor of the library, in search of documentation for what Uri called “the incident”: his and Lev’s break-in of the Talpiot tomb. Local news outlets must have covered the story, but multiple searches of online archives that morning turned up nothing. Perhaps I’d find what I as looking for at the library.

The receptionist at the Help Desk told me that the Jerusalem Post, the city’s English-language daily newspaper, would be my best bet for finding articles dealing with the break-in of the tomb. Given the non-threatening yet ominous phone calls Uri and I had recently received, I was hesitant to ask for help or make my presence known any more than I had to, but what other choice did I have in this case? The Internet had proven useless, and besides, I thought, what were the chances that this young college student knew or even cared what I was up to? She no doubt had problems of her own, and probably couldn’t care less about this American stranger asking for her help.

She typed a query into her computer, disappeared for a few moments to search for my request, and re-emerged with two pieces of microfilm.

There were a handful of people in the room on this Friday afternoon. Some read quietly at wooden tables or oversized fabric chairs that were scattered throughout the room; others were picking through print journals and newspapers housed on long rows of shelves. From my vantage point, seated behind a microfilm machine tucked into a corner in the back of the room, I could see the entire third floor of the library.