The Testimonium (26 page)

“He was,” she said sadly. But then she smiled again, and the memory of grief faded from her face like a morning mist chased away by a spring sunrise. “But I think you are pretty remarkable yourself!” she exclaimed, and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Well, well, what have we here?” a booming voice said from behind them. For the second time that day, Josh flushed red, as Giuseppe Rossini and Simone Apriceno approached.

“None of your business
,
vecchia
ficcanaso
!”
laughed Isabella.

“Old busybody, is it?” said Rossini. “My child, you wound me! I just wanted to make sure this wicked American was not inflicting his charms on you against your will!”

“Hey!” Josh protested. “I am the victim here!”

“Giuseppe, you dirty old man, leave these young people alone!” said Simone Apriceno, elbowing her companion in the ribs.

“You see, Joshua, what happens when you let women into your life,” the old professor said in a mock injured tone. Both women rounded on him for that, and the Italian banter flew back and forth for a moment faster than the bewildered young American could follow.

Finally he spoke in English to break up the mock squabble. “Isabella and I were going to the Capodimonte to look at the galleries,” he said. “Why don’t you two join us?”

“Actually, that is where we were headed,” said Apriceno. “I haven’t been there since I was a girl, and Giuseppe offered to give me the grand tour.”

Rossini proved to be an excellent tour guide, knowing all the back stories and salacious yarns about the various artists and paintings housed at the famous gallery. Time flew, and before they knew it the security guards were ushering them toward the entrance. Their party had acquired a large group of followers who applauded Rossini on the steps of the museum for his entertaining commentary. He bowed with a courtly Old World flourish, and the tourists went their separate ways.

“Isabella, you let me choose the museum, but now it is your turn,” Josh said. “What next?”

“Supper,” she said. “And then dancing!”

Rossini protested. “I am afraid my dancing legs were ruined several years back,” he said.

“Nonsense!” said Simone. “I have been watching you all week, and I have decided that you are exactly as crippled as you want to be!”

“Well, I might be able to manage a slow waltz,” allowed Giuseppe, “if I had a very patient and considerate partner!”

So they found themselves eating a delicious supper at La Belle Gourmet, a popular French restaurant, and then crossing the street to the Don Giovanni Ballroom, a popular swing club for those who liked 1940s era Big Band dance tunes. For the next two hours they waltzed, tangoed, and fox-trotted with abandon. Rossini managed the slower dances quite well, and Simone Apriceno quickly figured out just how often he needed to sit and rest, and which moves were too much for his bad leg. Josh had never been much for dancing, but Isabella was a natural, and under her patient instruction he managed to master some of the simpler steps pretty quickly, although the faster tunes left Isabella with a bruised toe or two, and Josh with bruised ribs from where she elbowed him in retaliation. At one point he found himself sitting next to Rossini while the two ladies visited the powder room. The older man leaned toward Josh.

“Young man, I must thank you,” he said.

“For what?” asked Josh.

“You have given Isabella her smile back!” he replied. “I haven’t heard her laugh like that in years. Whatever the future may hold, you have done a good thing today.”

Josh looked across the room as the two women emerged and walked toward their table. Isabella’s eyes were flashing and her smile lit up the room. “You know,” he said, “I don’t think I have ever seen anyone more beautiful.”

“My dear ladies,” said Rossini, “as much fun as this has been, we have a very big day ahead of us tomorrow. Might I suggest we return to our respective quarters?”

“Spoilsport!” Josh said, but he was secretly relieved. Dancing with Isabella was enjoyable, but he was too keyed up to relax, and the day had worn him out. As they rode back toward the hotel together, chatting about various things, he asked Giuseppe, “Where is Father MacDonald today?”

“He and Cardinal Raphael were having some sort of meeting most of the day,” said Rossini. “I spoke to him just before we met you, and he was getting ready to go to an evening mass.”

“I would have enjoyed having him along,” said Josh, “but I must say that it was a perfect afternoon and evening regardless!”

“Somehow, I don’t see the good Father cutting a rug with us at the Don Giovanni!” said Isabella.

Moments later they pulled up at the hotel. Rossini got out with a groan, and Simone helped him toward the front door. Isabella asked the cab to wait and got out for a moment, taking Josh by the hand. “Josh,” she said, “why don’t you come and spend the night with me?”

Josh groaned inwardly. This was a moment he had anticipated and dreaded at the same time. With a quick prayer for strength, he responded. “Isabella, I have had a beautiful time with you tonight. But I don’t think that is a good idea.”

Disappointment, hurt, and anger chased each other across her features in quick succession. “I thought you were interested in me as much as I am in you,” she said. “I see I was mistaken. Good night!” She turned back toward the cab.

“Wait!” he exclaimed desperately.

“Why?” she asked. “I do not make such offers lightly, and I do not like rejection. Why should I wait?”

Josh sighed. “I am interested in you!” he said. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you from the moment we met. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, captivating woman I have ever known!”

She looked at him and saw the tortured sincerity in his eyes. “Then why make a fool of me?”

“That is NOT what I am trying to do!” he said. “You think I don’t want your love? There is nothing I want more. I want your face to be the last thing I see when I shut my eyes at night, and the first thing I see when I open them in the morning—and not just tomorrow, but every day! But I refuse to accept your love in a way that dishonors you, and dishonors God.”

She hesitated. Religion again, she thought. “I don’t understand,” she finally said.

Josh tried to explain. “I believe that sexuality is best reserved for marriage,” he said. “Virginity is a gift you can only give away once. I have guarded mine for my entire adult life so that I can give it as a gift to my bride, on our wedding night. It is the Biblical, Christian approach to love. I’ve never met anyone I want to share that moment with, until now. But not until the time is right!”

Isabella finally smiled and rolled her eyes. “I have a hard time believing the Almighty Creator of the universe is going to be offended if you come spend the night in my apartment,” she said.

“But he is a God of small things, as well as great,” said Josh. “It just would not be right for me to do this. I do love you, and I want you to know that. I’ve never been in love before—I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you. But I want to do this right, because I only intend to do it once. If you can’t share my beliefs yet, please, at least, respect them.”

“I don’t like this God of yours very much sometimes,” she said. “In Italy, we believe that God winks at small things! But tell me—” She stepped closer. “Where does your God stand on goodnight kisses?”

Josh heaved a sigh of relief. “I think a goodnight kiss would be lovely,” he said.

Isabella pulled him close and kissed him so hard that he was left gasping for breath. Several bystanders, watching the drama unfold between them, actually applauded. She turned to them and gave a quick curtsy and smile, leaving Josh red-faced on the sidewalk. He finally turned and headed into the hotel. Despite being very tired from the long day, he swam fifty laps before heading up to his room for the night.

* * *

The next morning the five team members met Dr. Castolfo at the lab. He walked them over to the main museum and showed them the area where the conference would be held. Over a hundred chairs were waiting for members of the media, and a few reporters were already touring the museum, looking for backdrops for teaser sound bites. Three long stainless steel tables were laid lengthwise across the front of the room, with five chairs behind them for the team members. Overhead, a large flat-screen digital monitor would play the video clips of the excavation they had prepared. After walking them through the room, Castolfo showed them the back door, which led to a narrow corridor and a rear exit to the museum. “This way you can bring in the artifacts you wish to display during the press conference unnoticed.”

This done, the five archeologists went and retrieved the items they planned to show to the press. Rossini would discuss the initial excavation of the chamber, and then Simone Apriceno would show several vials of dust, numerous photographs and video clips of the original condition of the chamber, and several blown-up photographs of ancient pollen samples she had taken. In addition, she had the inkwell and signet ring from the top of the writing table as visual aids. Father MacDonald would show the Tiberius scroll itself, still immovably molded to the top of the ancient writing table. Josh would be discussing the translation of the Tiberius scroll, and then presenting the sword of Caesar. Isabella would begin by describing the discovery of the tomb, and conclude by showing the ancient key and cameo portrait they had discovered. Then, last of all, she would reveal the existence of the other two scrolls.

As they retrieved the artifacts they intended to display, Father MacDonald walked over to the rehydration tanks to look at the scrolls. “Josh, come here!” he exclaimed. “In fact, all of you look at this!”

It took a moment for them to realize what they were seeing, but then it registered. The seals on the ancient scrolls were loosening—in fact, on the Pilate scroll, there was a gap of two millimeters between the center of the wax seal and the papyrus it had clung to for so long. “I think they will both come right off now,” said the priest. “Then it will not be long before the scrolls begin to unroll on their own. We should be able to read the first parts of each scroll tomorrow.”

He then carefully reached through the access holes in the front panel of the tank, wearing the acid-free gloves used to handle ancient perishables. Using a fine scalpel, he very gently pried at the wax seals. Each one popped off without difficulty, and he used a pair of forceps to extract each seal from the tank. Since the wax was not nearly as fragile as the papyrus, the two seals were transferred to the viewing table for photography, then each was assigned a separate catalog number and transferred to a controlled climate storage cabinet. After this was done, they walked over to the tanks. Each scroll had visibly expanded once the seals were removed, and it was obvious that as the papyrus became more and more pliable, the scrolls would unroll on their own.

“How long do you think each one is?” asked Joshua.

“The last will of Augustus is definitely the shorter of the two,” said Father MacDonald. “I imagine it will unroll to roughly one meter in length. The Pontius Pilate report is considerably longer—I imagine that it will be slightly over two meters! This is exciting, my friends. Tomorrow the mystery will begin to unfold!”

“And the eyes of the world will be on this lab,” said Isabella. “How I wish that they had been willing to wait one more week before making the announcement.”

“Too late for that now,” said Rossini, shaking his head sadly. “It is time to begin making our way to the arena.”

“Is that what they call the press room in Italy?” asked Josh.

“Why not?” shrugged Giuseppe. “It is a place where you can be eaten by the lions, is it not?”

At noon the press auditorium was packed with journalists from over twenty countries. Dr. Sinisi’s “teaser” leak to the press over the weekend had worked well—combined with a slow springtime news cycle, it had created a huge audience for their announcement. The five archeologists sat behind the table, smiling for the cameras as Dr. Castolfo prepared to introduce them. At exactly noon, the president of the Board of Antiquities stood, and the cameras began to roll.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press corps,” he began in flawless English. “I would like to thank each of you for attending our conference this day. The discoveries made within the last week on the isle of Capri are of extreme significance, not just within our narrow world of history and archeology, but also in a much broader sense, as they may touch upon the beliefs of countless millions worldwide. I would like to introduce to you the five members of the team who have labored exhaustively this week to uncover, remove, and analyze the artifacts from the Villa Jovis ruins on Capri. First, our ancient documents specialist and Church historian, Father Duncan MacDonald. From America, our linguist and specialist in early Christian history, Dr. Joshua Parker. Specializing in the history of the late Roman Republic and early Roman Empire, Dr. Giuseppe Rossini. Then we have our Paleobotanist and expert on carbon-dating, Dr. Simone Apriceno. Finally, our lovely and remarkably talented team leader, an expert on Roman archeology, Dr. Isabella Sforza. She will take over the press conference from here. Dr. Sforza?”

Isabella stood, and flash bulbs popped throughout the room. Lara Croft jokes aside, the fact that this expedition had been led by a woman whose looks could have made her a fashion model was good copy, and every reporter in the room knew it. She smiled and began.

“For the last week it has been my privilege to work with this group of consummate professionals in one of the most remarkable discoveries in the history of modern archeology. I must ask you to bear with us as we present these finds in the order that they were made; I can promise you your patience will be rewarded by the end of our time together. To begin, I have asked Dr. Giuseppe Rossini, who made the initial discovery, to explain how that came about.”

Rossini stood. Ibuprofen had calmed the throbbing in his leg from the night before, and his silver hair and charming manner captivated the room quickly. “I am the resident docent and curator of the ruin known as the Villa Jovis on the isle of Capri. For those of you whose history is a bit rusty, this was once the home of the Roman emperor Tiberius Caesar, who ruled Rome from 14 to 37 AD. Last Sunday we experienced an earthquake on Capri—not a huge catastrophe, but enough of a trembler to make me go check and see if the ruins of Tiberius’ palace had been damaged. Fortunately, damage was minimal, but as I descended a staircase from one level of the ruin to another, I saw that part of its supporting wall had collapsed. This staircase had always been thought to rest on a solid stone pile foundation; however, the wall collapse revealed that a small chamber had been hidden underneath it all this time. When I shone my pocket torch into the room, I saw that the room and all of its contents were buried under such a thick coat of dust—mostly atomized stone from the stairs above—that they must have been undisturbed for many, many centuries. I could also see that the room was still furnished. Next to the opening created by the quake were a small table and a backless chair, such as was favored by the Romans in the days of the late Republic and early Empire. I immediately realized that these items might possibly date to the time of Tiberius himself, and called Dr. Sforza.” He nodded at Isabella. “She arrived later that afternoon, and as you can see on the video above, we filmed the chamber as best we could before beginning to remove any of the dust. We collected samples from every surface before we uncovered anything, since the dust itself and the pollen it contains can help us date the chamber with some precision, and reveal if the contents had ever been disturbed. We did, that first afternoon, clean the top of the small table off—although we left one area of dust undisturbed so that the stratigraphy would be intact. We found several interesting items on top of the table, and I will let my colleague Simone Apriceno explain some of those.”