The Jerusalem Puzzle (40 page)

‘Can you tell him what you told me?’

Dr Hunter didn’t even look at me.

‘It’ll all be in the report,’ she replied.

I knew that Susan had said that a few pages in the manuscript were the original written record of Jesus Christ’s trial, in the hand of the official scribe who was present, and that it had been sewn into the manuscript we’d found in Istanbul at a later date.

Isabel had told me Susan had been convinced it was all for real.

I stared at Susan Hunter.

‘It could be a forgery,’ I said. Being in that hole would have reduced anyone’s scepticism, but I wasn’t going to say that.

Dr Hunter kept staring at Isabel.

‘Findings like that should take years to verify,’ I said.

She didn’t answer. I shrugged. I felt relieved. Discovering something of global significance, the verification of the
existence
of Jesus and of his death by crucifiction, would put a spotlight on us forever. The record of his trial might end up being hotly disputed and our story as to how we found it made into lies.

I looked at Dr Hunter. Was she embarrassed that we’d come to ask her about all this?

‘We should go,’ I said, leaning towards Isabel.

As I turned away Dr Hunter spoke. ‘I am the person who verifies such documents, young man,’ she said.

I turned back to her. Her face was pale, but she looked determined.

‘And I will verify it again when I am asked. The manuscript you found, without doubt, contains a first-hand record of Jesus’s trial. The papyrus is verifiably from the correct period, that’s proven by the papyrus Kaiser found in Jerusalem, and the text is in the right cursive style. Even the ink has the right chemical composition.’

‘How long before the official report on the manuscript comes out then?’ I said.

‘It could be years,’ she said. ‘There will be a serious amount of academic interest in all this. The description of the events of his trial are different to what’s in the Bible.’

My mouth opened. ‘Significantly?’ I said.

She nodded. ‘Suggesting a slight variation from what’s in the Bible could have got you burnt at the stake a few hundred years ago. And there are still people out there who get violent if you try to disprove what they believe.’

‘Why would it have been in Istanbul?’ said Isabel.

‘A record of Jesus’s trial could have been sent from Jerusalem to Constantinople before Jerusalem fell to Islam. Constantinople ruled the empire Jerusalem was part of for hundreds of years,’ said Dr Hunter.

‘I must ask you not to repeat what I have told you to anyone,’ she went on, shifting in her bed so she could lean forward. ‘And be aware that I will not confirm any of this to anyone who contacts me. People will simply have to wait for the report.’

‘Why all the secrecy?’ asked Isabel.

Susan sucked her breath in sharply. ‘There will be consequences from all this, my dear. There’s a lot of money and power in Christianity these days, and among its enemies too. I am simply being careful.’

I understood then why Susan had been reluctant to talk. She was scared.

‘We won’t tell anyone,’ said Isabel.

‘People deserve to know what’s been found,’ I said. ‘Don’t they?’

Susan looked pensive. ‘If you reveal anything, please do not mention my name, or my college, please.’

We both nodded.

Isabel and I sat in the bright busy coffee shop of the hospital for a long time talking about it all.

I wanted the world to know everything, in case the academics tried to hide it all.

‘If this gets publicity, they won’t be able to hide the truth,’ I said.

‘You have a suggestion?’ she said.

I leaned towards her, began talking. My head was aching. I hadn’t got past all the injuries. My skin was tight and still painful in places, but the relief at both of us having escaped, from what we’d got caught up in, was what I thought of first when I woke up each morning.

‘The important thing is that our names don’t get
associated
with it all,’ I said.

‘I’m happy you’re going to write down everything that happened,’ she said, ‘but promise me not to release any of it until you’re proved wrong?’

‘I promise.’

‘Okay.’ Isabel nodded her agreement. She looked pale, and not that concerned about what I was suggesting.

I was worried about her.

You see, I had a question for her.

Dr Beresford-Ellis called me a few days after we met Susan. It had already been agreed that I would take some more of the holiday time I’d built up over the last few years.

He was surprisingly pleasant on this new call. When I was feeling better, he asked, would I assist him with a new
security
project for a bank, a project that one of his old colleagues had passed onto the institute?

My name had specifically come up in relation to it.

I asked him the name of the bank. As he talked I looked it up on the web. I was interested immediately.

I agreed to manage the project. Even if what I’d seen, the bank’s logo, was a coincidence, it would be good to have something different to sink my time into. Now I needed to sort something else out.

When I put the phone down, Isabel appeared at the door of the kitchen. I think she must have been listening.

‘You’re going to work on another project?’ she said. She sat opposite me at the white kitchen table.

‘I can’t mope around here forever. You’ll get sick of me.’

‘I won’t.’ She smiled.

I stood, then bent down on one knee to pick something off the floor. As I was there I looked up at her, then reached a hand towards her. There was a buzzing noise in my ears. My heart was picking up speed.

‘I’ve been plucking up the courage to do this for days,’ I said.

‘Do what?’ She looked at me oddly, her eyes wide, as if she was shocked.

‘Will you marry me?’ I said.

The words came naturally now that the moment was here. I couldn’t stop them. And suddenly I had no idea how she was going to reply.

Then she smiled, as if she knew all along what was going to happen, and had just been waiting for me to get on with it.

And as that second tumbled forward into the next, the last remnants of the ghosts of my past fled.

Icy sweat streamed from Alek’s pores. He’d been optimistic. Way too optimistic. Kidnapping in the Islamic world was almost always a form of extortion – so he’d been told. But the appearance of the knife, big enough to gut a bear, had changed everything.

He shook his head in disbelief. Only an hour ago he’d been happy in his hotel room, a place that was now as unreachable as a childhood dream.

His heart banged against his ribs as if it wanted out. He looked around. Was there someone else in the pillared hall he could appeal to?

The bead like eye of the video camera blinked on. Alek’s arms and legs jerked, straining at the orange nylon rope binding him to the smooth pillar. Musty air filled his nostrils. He was trembling, as if he had a fever.

When the two men had entered his room, he’d gone with them quietly. How stupid he’d been. Why hadn’t he shouted, roared, jumped for the window? He’d seen the look in this bastard’s eyes, as hard as stone. Now it was too late.

‘Let me go,’ he screamed.

His voice echoed. A hand held his shoulder. He threw his head from side to side, straining his neck. The rope around his ankles, knees and chest held him tight. His pulse thumped against it.

The knife glistened in the air like falling water. Only the prayer his mother had taught him could help him now.

Agios o Theos, agios ischyros, agios athanatos, eleison imas!

Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy and Immortal, have mercy on us!

He closed his eyes. Iciness hit his neck. Then a hot torrent fell on his chest. Warmth gushed down his legs, soaking him. A foul smell rose around him.

An eerie calm descended.

He looked around the ancient hall, taking in its forest like rows of pillars. The entrance he’d found must have been sealed up over five hundred years ago, before the ancient city of Constantinople above him fell to a Muslim army and its name was changed to Istanbul. There were treasures down here any museum director in the world would beg for. But he wished he’d never found the place.

He stared at the aluminium tables nearby. What he’d seen on those tables had terrified him.

A black mist rushed towards him. Would Sean find out what had happened?

Agios o Theos, agios …

A minute later the two fountains of blood, two foot high at their peak, from the left and right arteries emerging from Alek’s chest, bubbled like cooling coffee percolators. The flesh around them shone with a silky gleam. But Alek’s eyes were closed and his face was peaceful.

What items couldn’t you live without?

My family, of course, then my laptop! Then books. Maybe books before laptop! Then movies and great TV and music that makes you want to get up and dance.

Which authors inspire you?

Kathy Reichs, Wilbur Smith, Enid Blyton, J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert Graves, Arthur Conan Doyle and Charles Dickens are my favourite authors. I like stories with strong themes, a great plot and lively characters.

Do you spend a lot of time researching your novels?

I love research. I love reading about the history of every city my stories are set in and visiting each one. It’s a small indulgence and it allows me to smell what a place is like, and to see the look in the eyes of the inhabitants.

What is a typical working day like for you?

I write from about 8 a.m. until noon. Sometimes I’ll start earlier, but often I am reading or doing research on the internet before that. I also read history and interesting novels at night. In the afternoon I do some other editing or write posts for my blogs.

Have you ever had writer’s block? If so, how did you cope with it?

I’ve had writer’s block only once. Luckily that was seven years ago, so I seem to have conquered it. I’m self-disciplined and focused on writing these days so I don’t really have a problem with this.

Do your characters ever surprise you?

Yes, ideas flow sometimes and you can’t always be sure what a character will say next! That’s part of the fun of writing.

Which five people, living or dead, would you invite to a dinner party?

I would start with a few of the writers above! Any who could make it. After that I would love to know what happened to the last Byzantine Emperor Constantine XI, and to ask along the Prophet Jeremiah, to see if he might spill the beans on what he did with the Ark of the Covenant. If the Queen of Sheeba could make it she could sit at the top of the table!

What’s the strangest job you’ve ever had?

I cleaned the plates at a gentleman’s club opposite the Bank of England in the 1980s. The room was beautiful, but I had to stay hidden behind a screen in the corner. I was the lowest of the kitchen staff, but it was a pleasure to even see the inside of that beautiful club.

And what can you tell us about your next novel?

The next novel in the series is called
The New York Puzzle
. In it we finally find out what the square and arrow symbol means. We see Sean and Isabel in New York and get to find out some of the strange secrets of the oldest bank in the United States of America.

When did you start writing?

I started writing fiction on a daily basis in 2000. I had started a few stories before that, but after I lost a job in London and had to move house I decided it was time to start working on my dreams, to start creating something for myself. I miss days now and again, getting ill or suffering from a hangover are all that stops me now, but I have been working almost every day since then.

How did you decide what sort of books you wanted to write?

I always liked adventure stories.
The Lord of the Rings
is the only book I ever read three times. I loved
King Solomon’s Mines
by Rider Haggard and
I Claudius
by Robert Graves. I always wanted to create modern adventure storied with real characters about important things that are happening in the world around us.

Do you belong to a writers’ group?

I am in three live writers groups in Dublin. As I work from home these groups get me out of the house and help me understand what others think of my writing. They also provide real friendships. I am very grateful for that. I have also been in a number of online writer’s groups, such as authonomy, which were very useful to me.

Paperback or e-book … what do you prefer?

Paperback feels more permanent to me. I do read e-books sometimes, but I expect the main advantage of e-books would be if I were commuting and wanted to read on the train or in my lunch break. I am sure they are wonderful if you travel a lot. There is a place for both.

Does someone read over your books before you submit them?

No, some bits are read out at writing groups, but I do the plotting and create the main structure myself. The Avon team help a lot with editorial advice too.

What’s your favourite part of the writing process?

Getting lost in the writing. When I get a good idea as to where the novel is going I can find myself totally involved in the creative process. I picture where the story is going and love that creative moment when all else slips away and there is only you and the words pouring out.

And what’s the hardest?

The hardest is the fast rewrite where you have two weeks to make changes and have to work seven days a week to get it done. Don’t let anyone fool you, writing is hard work. Very hard work.