Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins
I, Saul (33 page)
“Maybe your life,” his wife said.
“Should you commit yourself to the one true God and Father of the sin-forgiving Christ, you must commit heart and soul.”
“It is not selfishness that keeps me from it.”
“Fear?”
“Maybe some. But neither am I fully persuaded.”
Luke smiled. “Say that to Paul, and if it does not prompt him to tell you of another who said the same, ask him to tell you of his defense before King Agrippa.”
Primus rose. “I must go. I only wish I were as confident as you of Gaius' testimony.”
“I am under no illusion,” Luke said. “I pray he does the right thing, even if for the wrong reason. Regardless of today's outcome, Paul and I consider you our friend.”
Primus was obviously touched. His wife said, “If we lose everything, we will still be rich in friendship.”
Luke wanted to run back to Primus' house in the middle of the day, knowing his wife would have news. But he could not pull away from his patients. Late in the afternoon he returned at such a pace that he knew he would feel it in his joints the next day.
Primus' children ran out when he arrived. And when Primus' wife joined them, he knew. The news was written in her eyes. “Reprimanded, on probation, but back to work. He can't wait to see you.”
“Same post?”
“Reinstated.”
“Praise God!”
Gaius stood watch at his usual position at one corner of the block that housed the prison. Luke stopped. “I am grateful you did the right thing.”
“I didn't do it because it was right. I did it because it was profitable. You know what you owe, and I know what I was promised. My whole family thanks you.”
More likely the brothels and pubs will thank me.
“Just don't forget your other promise.”
“The execution? As I said, I wouldn't miss it.”
Luke smiled as he reached Primus. “Greetings,” the guard said formally. “Identify yourself and your business.”
“Lucanus, physician to the condemned.”
“Your
professio.”
Luke dug it from his pocket and Primus studied it. “I am obligated to inform you that you are not to provide light for the prisoner beyond what is necessary for your examination. Neither are you to feed the prisoner beyond what is medically necessary.”
“Understood.Thank you.”
Primus snorted. “You're thanking me?”
Luke whispered, “I need a little extra time tonight for a longer examination.”
“I shall inform the others. Carry on.”
Luke was eager to tell Paul the news but found he had known since morning. “There are no secrets here, Luke.”
Late that night he dived back into the memoir.
At times when we were sharing kisses alone overlooking Jerusalem, I would tell Naomi she had my whole heart. One late evening it became apparent she had heard this once too often. “Saul, we're nearly thirty. You have a nephew and nieces who will marry in a few years. My father is not happy, and I am hurt”
That pierced me. “Oh, Naomi, you know what my life is like. Someday ⦔
“I am not pressuring you, Saul. In fact, if you asked me tonight I would say no.”
Was she serious? “Is there another?”
“I should be asking you that,” she said.
“You know there is not!”
“Well, when have you ever had time for me?”
“I'm with you now!”
“And yet you lie to me.”
“Naomi! How can you suggest such a thing? I lie to no one, especially not to you.” I knew I was too opinionated for most people's taste, but a liar? No, I would not admit to that.
“You lie to yourself. I know you think you love me.”
“I do!”
“You desire me, I can see that. I desire you too. I want to be in love with you.”
“But you're not?” I said.
“I am going to stop talking if you do not listen.” I raised a hand in surrender.
“You just told me I had your whole heart,” Naomi said. “If you don't see that as a lie, you are deluded.”
I fought to hold my tongue.
“How do you feel about your place with the Sanhedrin?”
I didn't have to think before I blurted, “It is my life! It is what I was born for, trained for. I am not even a member of the Sanhedrin, and yet I am pressed into service every day to carry out the wishes of the council.”
“You love it with your whole heart.”
“I do! Aah, I see. You trapped me.”
“I merely prodded you to tell the truth. I do not have your whole heart.”
“Naomi. God has to be my first priority.”
She put a hand gently on my shoulder. “Saul, hear me. I could never be jealous of God. If He truly had your heart, I would love you only more. But this is the first time you have mentioned Him in ages.”
“It is His business I do every day.”
“No, it is my father's business, Priest Nathanael's business, the council's business.”
“All that is God's work.”
“But you don't talk about Him. You talk about rules
and regulations and rituals and obedience. And you are so good at it. Everyone says so. My father praises you all the time. To some it may appear that your first love is the Law. Perhaps your first love is your position.”
I brushed her hand away. “So I am a deluded liar who puts himself before God.”
I had silenced her. I had not wanted to hurt her, but I had dedicated my life to becoming a Pharisee among Pharisees. It had made me the person I was.
“Tell me, Naomi. There is another suitor, isn't there?”
Her hesitation wounded me. “Not presently,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“Someone has asked my father if he knows your intentions.”
“My intention is to marry you! It has always been. How did your father answer?”
“He said you had not formally asked for my hand, but that he would ask me if I knew your plan.”
“Now you do.”
“And you know mine.”
“Who is it who wishes to pursue you if I do not rise to your expectations, or is he a coward who would rather remain anonyâ”
“In fact he prefers that you know.”
“You are asking me to step aside?”
Again a pause that crushed me. “I am.”
I struggled to find my voice. “For whom, then?”
“Ezra.”
The Examination
SUNDAY, MAY 11, 9:50 P.M.
Augie sat on the nearly three-hundred-year-old Spanish Steps, flanked by identical three-story buildings, the one to the south a museum, its second floor dedicated to the works of John Keats and Percy Bysshe Shelley and other Romantic poets. The steps lay less than a mile northeast of Piazza Navona, where he and Sofia had been just that morning. Now the cold steel of Roger's nine-millimeter Smith & Wesson pressed into his back.
A few minutes after ten a late-model sedan pulled to the curb. Not wanting to appear overeager, Augie ignored Dimos's honk and sat as if taking in the sights. Finally the passenger window slid down. “Let's go!”
Augie felt his breast pocket as if to be sure he had his phone and
sauntered down the steps, noticing a large black trunk in the backseat, presumably holding Dimos's equipment.
“Just you?” Dimos said.
“Who'd you expect? Someone has to stay with the goods.”
“You find Sofia?”
“I wasn't looking for her,” Augie said. “Were you?”
Fokinos shrugged. “Where to?” he said as he pulled away.
When Augie told him the Terrazzo, Dimos hit the brakes. “What? That's your hotel.”
“So?”
“So why didn't I just meet you there?” “Playing it safe.”
Dimos looked at Augie as if he had just figured things out. “You still don't trust me.”
“Why should I? I just met you.”
Dimos shook his head. “I'm the guy who's going to make you rich.”
“Wait a second, friend.You and Trikoupis wouldn't have even known about this if I hadn't been dragged into it.”
“Don't be silly,” Dimos said. “This is the world we run in. We'd have found out sooner or later, and whoever had the prize would be looking for buyers with deep pockets. Fact is, Dr. Knox, you need me. Until I authenticate it, your priceless find is just a rumor.”
“What was the holdup back at the steps, Doc?” Dimos continued. “Making sure no one was following me? Don't worry, no one else knows.”
“Yet.”
“Well, of course I'll need to inform my Art Squad guy tomorrow.”
That was a laugh. Augie knew Fokinos would report his findings to both Sofia's father and Sardinia within seconds of leaving the hotel.
“You were playing spy, Augie. Watching me like a hawk.”
“No. Just needed to see if you would be reckless enough to holler my name.”
“You think I'm an amateur, don't you?”
“C'mon. A few months ago you were working for the Greek government, weren't you?”
Dimos chuckled. “That's what it said on my business card. I've always worked for me.”
“Meaning?”
Fokinos weaved through traffic as if he'd spent a lot of time driving the city's confusing streets. “You remember a few years ago when the Art Squad confiscated about fifteen million euros worth of antiquities that had found their way to Switzerland?”
“Vaguely.”
“Well, Google it. A Japanese art dealer was storing the stuff in Geneva. I helped verify a lot of it, pieces between seventeen hundred and three thousand years old. Got a nice fee from the cultural heritage police, but that was nothing compared to what I got from the art dealer.”
“He paid you even though you helped Italy get all the antiquities back?”
“Well, there's âthe antiquities' and
âall
the antiquities,' if you know what I mean.”
“I don't.”
“Let's just say we helped make our Japanese client look like an unsuspecting victim rather than the thief he really was.”
“I thought you were working for the Art Squad.”
“So did they. We charged them for our time, but the dealer paid us even more for our, uh, consulting.”
“Who's this
we
you keep talking about?”
“Oh, no you don't. You're testing me again, Augie, seeing if I talk about my compatriots. I don't. Let's just say he's very highly placed in the Art Squad, has a sterling reputation, and plays the colonelâI mean, the top guy thereâlike a fiddle.”
“Pretty lucrative for your contact then?”
“Of course! You think he authorized payouts to the so-called art collector and to me without getting substantial kickbacks? And don't think he didn't get a percentage of all the stuff that was never officially recovered.”
