The Volcano That Changed The World (18 page)

“Could be y
ou just know more, Mr. Science,” Alexis said with a chuckle.

They wa
ndered through the rooms examining other frescos; some displayed sailing ships while others showed beautiful gardens. Standing before one ship fresco, Alexia said, “From artifacts found elsewhere, we know Minoan influence spread as far as Egypt, Cyprus, and Anatolia. Significant Minoan remains were found in Israel at the Canaanite Palace at Tel Kabri. The Minoans maintained significant trade routes, which, as you know, were a mainstay of their vibrant economy.”

“And then there‘s the possibility of Atlantic Ocean travel, perhaps as far as the Americas,” added Mark.

“That’s a possibility; unlikely, but possible,” agreed Alexia, knowing he was referring back to their conversation at Akrotiri about Native Americans. “I still need to check into that further.”

E
ventually they came to a large, more ornate room: the Throne Room.

“This is where the king presided
,” Alexia explained. “The palace here in Knossos was the religious and administrative center of their enormous sphere of influence. All major decisions affecting the Minoans were made in this room. The leaders in Akrotiri likely reported to this king.”

Mark watched
Alexia, as she seemed to be mentally transported back to another time. She remained silent, lost in that world. He looked around the room, noticing a central seat carved out of alabaster and adjacent benches made of gypsum, both soft calcium sulfate rocks. He snapped a couple of photographs.

Finally breaking
her trance, he said, “It’s hard to believe that all this was destroyed by one geologic event.”

Pulled back to
the present, she offered, “For that story, we need to visit the Minoan villa where my father formed his theory about the destruction of the Minoan civilization. Have you seen enough here? Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes,” Mark agreed, “but at some point during my stay
, I would like to come back and explore more.”

“
No worries. That can easily be accommodated.”

Leaving the palace complex and the tourists behind, they drove closer to the sea, to the place where Alexia’s father had excavated those many years before. Traveling to a slightly lower elevation than the palace, they took a narrow and winding road that hugged the coastline.

“This place obviously doesn’t have the draw that the
palace has,” Mark commented as they pulled into a small empty parking lot.

“No, very few tourists know about this villa
,” she responded somewhat sadly as they exited her truck.

“As you can see, i
t faces north, overlooking the sea. It’s often referred to as the Amnisos Villa after the community in which it is located.” A field of rocks and grass surrounded the isolated villa.

They reached the villa entrance and stopped.
Pointing down toward the sea a short distance away, she said, “See the large stones near the water’s edge?”

“Yes.”

“Those were once part of this villa. And if you look over here, you can see how the entire building was moved off its foundation. This is what my father observed when he developed his theory. This is what I wanted you to see.”

Mark
looked at the lower part of the structure and simply shook his head, amazed at the force of the tsunami. “The tsunami explanation seems such an obvious conclusion today. It’s hard to believe the idea was so radical in your father’s time.”

Entering the
remains of the villa, Alexia said, “This brings back fond memories. When I was a child, I used to come here with my father and play while he dug. I pretended to dig, emulating him. Before long, I was actually helping him.”

Again she drifted back to another time, but more recent. After a moment, Mark
said, “Well, the olive didn’t fall far from the tree.”

Alexia looked at him and smiled. Mark
asked, “What was the most important thing you learned from your father?”

She thought a moment
and said, “Patience. Excavating these sites is tedious, time-consuming work; it requires a lot of effort to unearth one small piece of the puzzle. Only when you finally find enough pieces can you begin the process of determining what happened in the past.”

“You’re lucky,” he said, “I
unfortunately never learned much patience. I’m still working on it.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Speaking of patience,” Mark turned to her, “as we are now in Crete and I’ve seen this villa, I’m ready to learn about the one-hundred-fifty-year discrepancy between when we know Thera erupted and when archeologists date the destruction of the Minoan civilization.”

Alexia
nodded. She began her story as she showed him around the villa and pointed out more of the powerful destruction her father had observed so many years before. “As you know, the eruption occurred about 1600 BCE but the Minoan civilization did not collapse until around 1450 BCE. By the time of the eruption, the Minoan empire was significant and included warriors, sailors, merchants, artists, farmers, and people with all the expertise needed to support and defend a vast empire.”

Mark
listened intently.

She continued
, “Volcanic ash from Thera began to fall on Crete, but it did little damage. Then the tsunami hit, pounding Crete’s northern and eastern shores with repeated massive waves, eventually knocking down entire buildings many feet above sea level.”

Mark nodded
, “We know the tsunami was large, but no one has determined just how large. Judging from the damage it did, it must have been a megatsunami. ”

“Hopefully, your work h
ere will shed light on its size,” she said enthusiastically. “What we do know is that the center of government located on the north shore at Knossos at the palace, where we just visited, was devastated. Major Minoan ports were located on the northern and eastern shores of Crete, just like Heraklion today. These ports, including the navy and merchant vessels harbored within them, were all destroyed by the tsunami.”

Mark added, “T
he shape of your ports likely focused the wave energy, causing higher wave crests and the worst flooding exactly where the fleet and associated infrastructure were located. That’s a problem with most natural harbors during a tsunami.”

“Exactly.
” As she continued, Alexia became more passionate, bringing life to the history she described. “Although the Minoan civilization was severely damaged, it was not totally destroyed. True, their central government was largely dysfunctional, and their fleet was in ruins, weakening both their defense and trading economy. But the palaces and settlements in the island’s interior and along its south and west coasts remained mostly intact. Though a shadow of their former selves, the Minoans continued to survive and began to rebuild.”

Mark added, “As a result of the eruption,
I imagine ash filled the skies. This probably caused the earth to cool for several years. And eventually, this could have led to severe crop failures and famine, adding to the challenges they faced.”

“That’s true. The impact to their food supply would have presented additional challenges, but the
invasions were their ultimate undoing.”

“Invasions?”

Alexia
gathered her thoughts. “In Plato’s story, the people of Atlantis had attacked cities in Greece; and prior to the eruption, so did the Minoans. The Minoans and Mycenaeans, or early Greeks, were enemies. With the Minoan fleets, their main means of defense, crippled, Crete became easy prey, and it was time for payback. The Minoans were attacked by the people whom they had attacked previously, Mycenaean invaders from the Greek mainland.”

“Wait, how do you know that
?” Mark interrupted.

“We know the
Minoans suffered repeated attacks as indicated by their statues and monuments being desecrated, mass graves of Minoan warriors, and the discovery of Mycenaean weapons, such as swords, in battlefields.”

With a hint of sadness, she said, “Eventually the Mycenaean invaders conquered Crete, an island so important
to them that it eventually was considered the birthplace of Zeus, the father of all gods and men in Greek mythology. This honor likely was bestowed on Crete because of the Mycenaean respect for the Minoans.”

Mark understood.
“So the Minoans did not disappear overnight. Almost one hundred fifty years passed after the devastation of their strongest cities and their fleet before the civilization itself was completely destroyed and conquered by the Mycenaean invaders and Crete became Greek territory.”

“Yes
, the Minoan Empire finally ended.” With a twinkle in her eye, she asked, “Does that satisfy your curiosity, Dr. Malloy?”

He
smiled. “Yes, Dr. Papadopulos, it does.” Then becoming serious, “It’s amazing, we, Western civilization, owe so much to the Greeks, the Mycenaeans—and the mighty Greek civilization was built on the backs of the Minoans. And the Greeks owe it all to a volcano.”

He paused, looking out at the sea.
“I wonder if Plato was paying homage to the Minoans when he wrote about Atlantis. I also wonder how the world would have developed had the Minoan civilization not been destroyed.”

Also l
ooking toward the sea, Alexia added, “I’ve often wondered that myself.”

Chapter Twelve

Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life.

—
Rachel Carson

Tallahassee, July 1998

Despite having just run an article a few weeks earlier praising Dr. Malloy’s work on linking Atlantis with the Greek islands of Crete and Santorini, the
Tallahassee Democrat
showed no hesitation in blasting Mark for allegedly fathering a child with a black student out of wedlock. Carter read the article and noted how the paper played up the fact that the student was a black undergraduate and Mark, her teacher, was a white professor. The student’s picture was on the front of the “Local Section” of the paper. In it, Dr. Sam Bolton stood by her side.

T
o lend credibility to the story, the paper frequently quoted Bolton criticizing Mark for taking advantage of the vulnerable Shadron Taylor. Carter found Bolton’s comments self-serving and irritating. The reporter indicated that Dr. Mark Malloy could not be reached for comment because he was visiting the Greek islands. The implication was that he was vacationing, having a good ole time, while Shadron was left behind to fend for herself. Carter wondered exactly how hard they had tried to reach Mark—he seemed pretty accessible when he spoke with him the other night.

T
he coverage was one-sided, with the paper playing up Bolton as a white knight and espousing Mark’s damnable guilt—yellow journalism at its best. The truth didn’t matter; selling newspapers did. Earlier in the summer, the paper had been critical of Carter for not solving the attempted murder of Dr. Malloy; now they wanted Mark crucified.

The paper considered the
Taylor case cut-and-dried, thought Carter; Mark was the father, no doubt about it. He disagreed. His instincts told him that something wasn’t quite right, a feeling only amplified by Bolton’s involvement in the whole affair. Since the call from Mark, Carter had continued his own investigation into this new territory, and finally thought he might have a way to learn the truth.

***

DNA
, or deoxyribonucleic acid, contains genetic instructions that control the development and functioning of a living organism, making us who we are. Because each of us is distinctive, DNA is a unique biochemical identifier, and is sometimes referred to as a “DNA fingerprint.” That fingerprint is passed down from parent to child through chromosomes, a combination of DNA and proteins found in most cells, allowing the ability to identify the parents of a particular child.

T
he first use of DNA in a criminal case in the United States was in Carter’s own state of Florida. Less than ten years earlier, in November 1987, the Circuit Court in Orange County convicted a rapist by matching his DNA from a blood sample with that of semen traces from the rape victim. Since then, Carter had been trained on DNA testing, and he planned to put that training to use to determine the father of Shadron Taylor’s child—or at least to show that Mark wasn’t the father.

T
he use of DNA for paternity was now universally accepted, having been made famous earlier in the year by an investigation of the country’s third president, Thomas Jefferson, and one of his slaves, Sally Hemings.

Based on DNA tests from descendants of both president and slave, scientists concluded that Jefferson fathered all six of
Hemings’ children in addition to the six children he had with his wife. The resulting scandal meant that paternity testing using DNA became a common topic at breakfast tables and in office coffee rooms throughout America.

Carter knew
from his training that a fetus’s DNA could be tested between ten to twelve weeks of pregnancy by taking and analyzing a small sample of tissue from the placenta that connects the fetus to the uterine wall. More invasive than the usual swab of saliva cells from a person’s mouth, the procedure still presented the opportunity that Carter needed.

***

Carter
planned to test Mark’s DNA as soon as he returned to Tallahassee at the end of the summer. For now, he focused on Shadron, who was at this moment sitting in his office.

On the premise that she had charged an attempted-murder victim with impregnating her,
Carter had contacted her and asked her to come in for questioning. Although his gut told him she didn’t play a role in the murder attempt, he planned to begin his questioning with the attempted murder in order to throw her off balance, frightening her into telling the truth.

D
ressed in tight grey stretch pants with a matching light grey-flecked top, she showed a slight baby bump. The fact that she was pregnant was not in question based on earlier testing and her current condition.

Her
uneasiness at being in the police station given this situation was clear but it did not detract from her beauty, thought Carter.  He believed her apprehension might make her more susceptible to his questioning. He motioned for her to sit on the chair alongside his desk. The room was large and filled with other desks, but it was late morning on a Saturday and only a few people were around.

In an effort to help her feel
more at ease, and less guarded, he asked, “Would you like something to drink, a glass of water perhaps?”

“Oh n
o, uh-uh, I’m fine, thank you,” she replied nervously, continuing to look around, but focusing on nothing in particular.

“
Alright then. Let’s begin. Ms. Taylor, first of all, thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

She simply nodded.

He smiled and reached for a device on his desk. “Do you mind if I tape this interview?”

“Um, n
o, that’s okay,” Shadron replied a little sheepishly.

H
e switched on the tape recorder with a click. Looking up, he observed her as she focused on the tape spinning slowly. Carter found that people he interviewed were initially acutely aware of the tape, but once they began speaking, they usually lost track of its presence.

He started with the perfunctory question
s. “Would you please state your name for the record?

“Shadron Taylor.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“And you’re a full-time student at Florida State University, is that correct?”

“Uh-huh
. Yes.”

“Ms. Taylor, are you on any drugs or medication that would
affect your ability to answer my questions?”

Her answer was almost as
automatic as the question. “No, I don’t take drugs.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“Of course! Can’t you see? I’ve already had to buy new bras.” She reached up and adjusted herself, obviously uncomfortable with her new enlarged size.

He ignored the l
ast comment. “How far along are you?”

“The doctor
believes I’m near the end of my first trimester.”

“Who is the father?
”

“Professor Malloy.”
As she said his name, she recalled a similar discussion a few nights ago she had had with her brother, who was devastated by the news. She was unsure whether he was more upset about her condition or the naming of Dr. Malloy as the father. He also had questioned her, and in the end, did not believe her story about the father because her answers were too hesitant and inconsistent. She hoped she sounded more convincing today.  

Carter was surprised with her
use of his formal title. If they were lovers, why didn’t she refer to him as “Mark?” As planned he shifted to the attempted-murder case. “As you may know, I’m investigating the attempted murder of Dr. Malloy. Your alleged affair with Dr. Malloy makes you a person of interest. Do you understand?”

“Um
…I think so.” Her eyes still wandered aimlessly around the room; she avoided looking directly at him. She had not really focused on the question.

He took a moment
to stare at her until their eyes met and she seemed more likely to listen. “Ms. Taylor, where were you the night of May twenty-first earlier this year?”

“
What? I don’t remember. How should I know? Why do you ask?” She seemed genuinely confused.

“That’s the evening when
the attempt on Professor Malloy’s life occurred,” Carter said sternly. He finally had her attention.

“
What? I had nothing to do with that! Is that why I’m here?” Her body stiffened slightly.

Carter studied her. Leaning forward, closing the space between them, he
looked directly into her eyes and asked, “Tell me, Ms. Taylor, is Dr. Malloy really the father of your baby?”

She hesitated
, breaking eye contact and peering off to her right, “Yeah. That’s what I said.” Adding, “It’s been on the news. All of Tallahassee knows he’s the father.”

Carter
leaned back. “Ms. Taylor, are you right-handed?”

She did
a double take. “Mm-hmm, yes. Why?”

He
learned a theory back when he was still in New York that served him well. Early in his career Carter had taken a short course about reading body language offered by the FBI. If a person was right-handed, they looked right when constructing an answer—a lie. They tended to look to their left when recalling something—the truth. If he were to believe this theory, Shadron had just lied.

He tilte
d back in his chair, giving her more space this time. “How close were you to Dr. Malloy?”

“Close enough to get pregnant
,” she said defiantly.

“Were you close enough for him to
have shared with you the security code to the ice lab in the Carraway Building?”

“Uh-uh, no,
I’ve never been inside that ice lab,” she lied. She had been in the lab, only not with Professor Malloy.

Again, she had looked to her right before answering. This
lie was unexpected. Carter had thought for sure she hadn’t been in the lab. Maybe his system wasn’t foolproof after all.

“D
o you know the entry code to the lab’s security system?” he persisted.

“No,” she said emphatically
, looking directly at him. No left or right glance this time. Annoyed, she asked, “Why would I want to see some stupid ice and rock cores?”

The truth,
Carter thought, she didn’t know the code, but… “Who said anything about rock cores?”

Sh
e quickly glanced right. “I…I think, uh…Dr. Malloy may have told me about those cores.”

He was confused by these
answers, now unsure which ones were truthful. “So Dr. Malloy told you about the rock and ice cores, but despite the fact that he also got you pregnant, you and he were not close enough for him to share his passion for his work and actually show you the lab?”

“
I guess so. It wasn’t that kind of relationship, if you know what I mean. His passion was directed elsewhere,” she quipped with a smirk, having glanced right and then looking directly at him.

“What kind of relationship was it
, Ms. Taylor?” he asked.

Without hesitation, she shot back,
“Sexual. Isn’t that obvious?” She looked down at her body.

“How often did you
two have sex?”

Shaking her head,
she said, “That’s none of your business.”

“
There was an attempted murder. The details of your relationship with Dr. Malloy are germane to my investigation. Please answer the question.”

She looked at a desk to her right.
“Several times a week—if you must know.”

“
Where did these encounters take place?”

Holding her gaze steady
at the desk, she thought for a moment. “Often we just met in his office.” Adding, “We also went to Lake Jackson and made love surrounded by nature. It’s amazing what you can do on a picnic table.”

Wasn’t it
Lake Jackson where Bolton claimed to be on the night of the attempt on Mark’s life? Alarm bells went off in Carter’s head. Even though he believed she was constructing her answers, his experience was that people often fabricated lies with pieces of truth, albeit a different reality. Although he didn’t believe she had done these things with Mark, had she done them with someone else? He jotted down this thought.

“Why didn’t you just
go to Dr. Malloy’s home for these encounters? Wouldn’t that have been more comfortable? Convenient?” It was logical that his home would be a more likely rendezvous location than Lake Jackson. Mark was single and had no reason not to welcome her there. Making love outside in Florida sounded great until you factored in the heat, the humidity, and the mosquitoes.

Without thinking, she began to twist
a strand of her hair. “Uh-uh, no.”

“Why not?
A bed would have been more comfortable than a picnic table.”

She remained silent, looking off into space.