The Inquest (22 page)

“Quite rightly,” Martius remarked.

“Let us be clear,” said Varro. “Pilatus accepted that the Nazarene was dead?”

This Aristarchus confirmed. He said that Centurion Longinus then informed the prefect that the other two condemned men were still alive. To hasten their deaths he sought permission to break their legs. This would prevent the crucified men from supporting their weight with their legs, and they would soon asphyxiate. Pilatus granted permission for the legs of these two to be broken, and for all three bodies to be brought down from their crosses.

“A physician was not present?” Varro asked. “No one with medical knowledge certified the deaths of the prisoners?”

Aristarchus replied that no physician had been present at the executions. That was not normal practice, he reminded his listeners, because the bodies of crucified men were usually left up on their crosses to rot. Had the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth taken place at any other time, his body would have been left on public display for at least a week. It was only because the execution was rushed through on the eve of the Passover Sabbath that his body could be taken down so soon after being put up, said the scribe.

Varro was nodding. From his readings of the Lucius Letter and the Marcus and Matthias documents it seemed likely that Jesus had come to Jerusalem in the week leading up to the Passover with the fixed intention of being crucified, and specifically on the day before the Sabbath. Jesus would have known that his body would be taken down before sunset on the Friday, to prevent the pollution of the Sabbath. When put up on his cross that morning, Jesus had known that he would only be left up there for six or seven hours. “Let us be sure about this, Aristarchus,” the questor said, fixing his eyes on those of the witness, “as far as you were concerned there was absolutely no doubt in the prefect’s mind that the Nazarene was dead when he was taken down from his cross?”

“None, my lord. Longinus informed the prefect that to ensure the man was truly dead he had stabbed him with a spear. This convinced Pilatus, and he gave permission for the body to be taken down, in the ninth hour, toward the tenth hour.”

“So, two to three hours before sunset, the body was handed over to the Nazarene’s family, allowing time enough for the body to be disposed of before day’s end?”

The witness replied that the receivers of the body had not actually been the Nazarene’s family. Josephus of Arimathea had told Pilatus he was providing his own tomb for the interment of the prisoner, a new tomb in the vicinity of the execution place, in a garden just to the northwest of the city.

“The Jews do not cremate their dead, like ourselves?” Varro queried.

“I understand that outside Jerusalem the Jews used to cremate their poor on a large communal pyre, my lord, a rubbish dump which burned perpetually. Those who can afford a family tomb are interred.”

Varro had become suspicious. He heard King Agrippa’s words in his mind. “The body was handed over to Josephus of Arimathea,” he said. “What then?”

Aristarchus said that he could not testify to exactly what happened once the prefect gave Josephus permission to take charge of the body. No one seemed to know precisely what followed, and he was not an authority on Jewish burial customs.

This comment prompted Varro to instruct Callidus to fetch the expeditions expert on Jewish customs, Antiochus. As much as he dis liked the man, his knowledge might be invaluable. When Antiochus arrived soon after, Varro directed him to a place on one of the couches and instructed him to listen carefully to the witness’ testimony. In this interim Varro provided a stool for Aristarchus, and the Greek gratefully took a seat. The concession had the effect of putting the scribe more at his ease. Once Antiochus had sulkily taken his place, the questor resumed the questioning. “Scribe, we know that two days after the execution the Nazarene’s body disappeared from its tomb. What was Prefect Pilatus’ response to that?”

Aristarchus said that Pilatus was annoyed by this, particularly because the Sadducee members of the Great Sanhedrin created a great stir. They had asked Pilatus for men from the Roman garrison to guard the tomb against body snatchers, but Pilatus had told them to use their own Temple Guards, which they did. It came to light that someone bribed these sentinels to later say that they had fallen asleep, and this was when the body had been removed. The Sadducee members of the Sanhedrin then accused their fellow councilor Josephus of Arimathea of having been involved in a conspiracy to remove the body, and put Josephus in chains and lodged him in the Temple cells. He was released a day later, after the other Pharisees on the Sanhedrin had gone to Pilatus and protested.

“If I may make a comment, questor?” Antiochus spoke up.

Varro looked over at the Jewish magistrate. “If it is pertinent,” he agreed.

“It occurs to me,” Antiochus began, “that perhaps Pharisees on the Great Sanhedrin, led by Josephus of Arimathea, planned to wrest control of the council from the Sadducees by claiming that the Nazarene was the Messiah, proving that their philosophy was superior to that of the Sadducees. But this plan failed; the Sadducees continued to control the Great Sanhedrin right up to the time of the Revolt.”

“The plan failed,” said Martius, “because the Pharisees were unable to produce a walking, talking Nazarene following his execution.”

“How could they?” commented young Venerius with a laugh. “If he was still alive, we would have arrested Jesus and nailed him up a second time, and we would have crucified the Pharisees into the bargain, for harboring an escaped criminal.”

“Was Josephus of Arimathea acting alone,” Varro pondered, “or was there a broad conspiracy?”

“If I may speak, questor?” said Pythagoras. “In relation to the documentary evidence relating to the man Josephus of Arirriathea.” When Varro assented, he went on: “To refresh your memory, the Marcus document identifies Josephus of Arimathea as a member of the Great Sanhedrin, and a Pharisee, one who was expectant of the appearance of the Messiah. The Lucius Letter goes a little further, stating that Josephus did not vote for the execution of the Nazarene when the Great Sanhedrin heard the accusation of blasphemy. The Matthias document describes Josephus of Arimathea as both a rich man and
one of the Nazarene’s disciples
.”

“He was one of the seventy?” Varro raised his eyebrows. “Then Josephus had to be a
secret
disciple. The chief priests would not knowingly have tolerated one of the Nazarene’s elders on their council.”

“The document indicates as much,” Pythagoras remarked. “Whether Josephus of Arimathea was acting alone, or whether he represented or led a group of Pharisee conspirators, he was in a
particularly influential position to orchestrate a secret plot. He had a foot in each of three camps. As a follower of the Nazarene, he was Jesus’ spy in the Sanhedrin, being privy to the deliberations of the chief priests. He had the ear of the Roman prefect, and, as a rich man, Josephus of Arimathea could afford to offer substantial bribes to parties to a subterfuge.”

“A number of rumors circulated to the affect that Josephus of Arimathea did bribe the centurion Longinus, my lord,” Aristarchus volunteered.

Both Varro and Martius straightened.

“Bribed him to do what?” said Varro.

“Watch what you say, scribe,” Martius cautioned. “You tread dangerous ground when you impugn the reputation of a Roman centurion.”

“There were two principal rumors,” Aristarchus cautiously advised. “One had it that Longinus had taken money from Josephus of Arimathea to hand the body over. The second rumor had Centurion Longinus accepting a bribe to make it look as though Jesus of Nazareth had died on the cross, without actually going through with the execution.”

This revelation was met with a momentary stunned silence.

Martius was the first to speak. He was angry. “I will not have it! That Longinus might accept payment to hand over the body I can accept; that is not uncommon. But a criminal act on such a scale I find difficult, if not impossible, to accept.”

“A man who can be bribed on one thing, tribune,” Crispus chimed in, “can be bribed on all things.”

Martius scowled at Crispus. “Longinus risked his own neck to fabricate the death of the Nazarene, for money?” he countered. “Could Longinus have been that foolish?”

“The centurion was arrogant,” remarked young Venerius. “All centurions are arrogant. This one would deny any complicity and lay the blame at the feet of the Jews. Whose word would be taken? That of a Roman citizen and centurion, or that of a Jew?”

Martius, Crispus, and Venerius all began to talk at once.

As anarchy threatened, Varro clapped his hands to end the clamor. His colleagues fell silent. “This is not a rhetorician’s classroom,” Varro scolded them. “I am questioning a witness. Besides, at this point we have nothing but an unsubstantiated rumor.” He returned the focus to Aristarchus. “Was any proof offered that such a plot existed?”

The scribe shook his head. “The rumor about a sham crucifixion did not circulate until later that same year, after Centurion Longinus was himself executed for desertion.”

“See!” Venerius sneered in Martius’ direction. “Your ‘law abiding’ centurion could desert, but could not be involved in a conspiratorial crime? I think not!”

“Hold your tongue, Venerius,” Varro cautioned. “Go on, Aristarchus.”

“The rumor had it that Josephus of Arimathea and Centurion Longinus had been complicit in a plot, and that Jesus of Nazareth was not dead when he was entombed.”

“There would have been many witnesses to the crucifixion,” said Varro, “none the least of whom would have been Sadducees from the Great Sanhedrin. There can be no doubt they wanted the Nazarene dead, as he was a threat to their power. Any hint of foul play would have attracted their attention, Aristarchus.”

“If I might put a question to the witness, questor?” said Martius. “Aristarchus, for all we know, your colorful tales regarding this rumor and that rumor may be nothing but fictions. Is there anyone who could support your claims?”

Aristarchus thought for a time, then replied, “There was a Jewish apothecary at Jerusalem. According to one rumor, which I heard from several different sources, this apothecary was paid
by Josephus of Arimathea to provide Centurion Longinus with a soporific drug which Longinus in turn administered to the Nazarene on the cross. This drug supposedly created the appearance of death. The apothecary could tell you himself.”

“Why did you not tell us about this before?” Varro demanded.

“I was about to, my lord, but I was interrupted.” Aristarchus cast his eyes to Martius, Crispus and Venerius, his interrupters.

Now that the subject of a drug had been raised, Varro regretted not calling Diocles the physician to be present for the questioning. He momentarily contemplated suspending the session again to summon the doctor, but decided against it rather than interrupt the flow of evidence. “Do you know what drug was supposedly employed?”

Aristarchus replied that he had only heard that the drug in question had the capacity to induce a deep sleep and slow the heartbeat, so that any person taking it had every appearance of being dead. He added that the drug had been mixed with vinegar to disguise it, and in that form it was given to Jesus to drink at the time of the execution.

“Name this apothecary,” said Martius irritably.

“His name was Matthias,” Aristarchus replied. “Matthias ben Naum.”

Varro sat bold upright. “What name?”

“Matthias ben Naum,” the Greek repeated.

Varro looked over to Artimedes. The secretary nodded. He too recognized the name of Naum as the same the questor had heard in his first dream. “Naum?”

“Yes, Matthias, the son of Naum,” the witness replied, looking mystified.

Oblivious to Varro’s new train of thought, and antagonistic toward the scribe for implicating a Roman centurion in a significant crime, the tribune fixed his gaze on Aristarchus. “I believe that the scribe has concocted all this nonsense, questor,” he said accusingly. “If not for a reward, then to ingratiate himself. Or, is there another reason? Could it be that he is out to slander Gaius Pontius Pilatus? Is that your game, Greek? You have held a grudge against your former master all these years. You saw the questor’s visit as your opportunity to make Pilatus look a fool. What better way to achieve that end than to create the impression that Pilatus was hoodwinked by the Jews?”

Aristarchus looked appalled. “Not true, my lord,” he said earnestly. “I swear it!”

“You know the penalty for giving false evidence before a magistrate, do you not?” said Martius in a low, threatening voice. “It is a capital offense, scribe!”

“Every word I have uttered here today has been the truth, my lord,” the Greek protested. “I harbor no grudge against Prefect Pilatus. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I have every reason to be eternally grateful to Pontius Pilatus. Before he returned to Rome, he set me free from the bonds of slavery. I have my lord Pilatus to thank for my freedom. Surely, there is no greater gift, no greater reason for gratitude.”

His accusation demolished, Martius sat back, folding his arms.

“Tell me about the apothecary Naum,” Varro resumed, now that his deputy had flung his accusations, and missed the target. “Could he still be alive?”

Aristarchus replied with a shrug that it might be possible; Naum may have survived the Revolt, could be among the last prisoners being held by General Bassus. He knew for a fact, he said, that Matthias ben Naum was still practicing his art at Jerusalem just before the Revolt broke out. He had seen him there, at his business premises on one of the streets of the Upper City, advanced in years but apparently in good health.

“You could recognize him again if you saw him?”

“Oh, yes, my lord, I am certain of it.”

Varro nodded slowly. “You have been most helpful. You shall have your endorsement, and a cash reward besides. I will have one of my secretaries pen a suitable testimonial. You can display it in your premises. Does that meet with your approval?”

Aristarchus was beaming. “Indeed it does, my lord. Thank you, my lord.”