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'Many times, but they never came to blows.' Forrester paused and then shook his finger in Dekker's face. 'Wait a minute. You're not suggesting that one of my a.s.sistants did this, are you?'
Meanwhile, Andrea had been observing Stowe Erling's body with a mixture of shock and disbelief. She wanted to walk over into the circle of lamps and pull on his ponytail to show that he wasn't dead, that it was just a sick joke of the professor's. She understood the gravity of the situation only when she saw the frail old man shaking his finger in the gigantic Dekker's face. At that point the secret that she had been withholding for two days cracked like a dam from the pressure.
'Mr Dekker.'
The South African turned to her, his expression clearly not friendly.
'Ms Otero, Schopenhauer said that the first encounter with a face makes a lasting impression on us. For the time being I've had enough of your face - understood?'
'I don't even know why you're here, n.o.body asked you to come,' added Russell. 'This story is not for publication. Go back to the camp.'
The reporter took a step back, but held the gaze of both the mercenary and the young executive. Ignoring Fowler's advice, Andrea decided to spit it out.
'I'm not leaving. It's possible that this man's death is my fault.'
Dekker came so close to her that Andrea could feel the dry heat from his skin.
'Speak up.'
'When we arrived at the canyon, I thought I saw someone on top of that cliff.'
'What? And it didn't occur to you to say anything?'
'I didn't give it much importance at the time. I'm sorry.'
'Terrific, you're sorry. That makes everything all right then. f.u.c.k!'
Russell was shaking his head, amazed. Dekker scratched the scar on his face, trying to take in what he had just heard. Harel and the professor were looking at Andrea in disbelief. The only one who reacted was Kyra Larson, who pushed Forrester aside, rushed over to Andrea, and slapped her.
'b.i.t.c.h!'
Andrea was so stunned that she didn't know what to do. Then, seeing the anguish on Kyra's face, she understood and lowered her arms.
I'm sorry. Forgive me.
'b.i.t.c.h,' the archaeologist repeated, throwing herself on Andrea and pummelling her face and chest. 'You could have told everyone that we were being watched. Don't you know what we're looking for? Don't you realise how it affects us all?'
Harel and Dekker grabbed La.r.s.en by the arms and pulled her back.
'He was my friend,' she mumbled, moving away slightly.
At that moment David Pappas arrived at the scene. He had been running and sweat was pouring from him. It was obvious he had fallen at least once because there was sand on his face and gla.s.ses.
'Professor! Professor Forrester!'
'What is it, David?'
'The data. Stowe's data,' Pappas said, bending over and leaning on his knees to catch his breath.
The professor made a dismissive gesture.
'This isn't the time, David. Your colleague is dead.'
'But, Professor, you have to listen. The headings. I've fixed them.'
'Very good, David. We'll talk tomorrow.'
Then David Pappas did something he would never have done were it not for the tension of that night. Grabbing Forrester's blanket, he jerked the old man around to face him.
'You don't understand. We have a peak. A 7911!'
At first Professor Forrester didn't react, but then he spoke very slowly and deliberately, in such a low voice that David could hardly hear him.
'How big?'
'Huge, sir.'
The professor fell to his knees. Unable to speak, he leaned backward and forward in mute supplication.
'What's a 7911, David?' asked Andrea.
'Atomic weight 79. Position 11 on the periodic table,' the young man said, his voice breaking. It was as if, in delivering his message, he had emptied himself. His eyes were on the corpse.
'And that is . . .?'
'Gold, Ms Otero. Stowe Erling had found the Ark of the Covenant.'
37.
Some Facts about the Arc of the Covenant, Transcribed from the Moleskin Notebook of Professor Cecyl Forrester The Bible says: 'And they shall make an Ark of s.h.i.ttim wood: two cubits and a half shall be the length thereof, and a cubit and a half the breadth thereof, and a cubit and a half the height thereof. And thou shalt overlay it with pure gold, within and without shalt thou overlay it, and thou shalt make upon it a crown of gold round about. And thou shalt cast four rings of gold for it, and put them in the four corners thereof; and two rings shall be in the one side of it, and two rings in the other side of it. And thou shalt make staves of s.h.i.ttim wood, and overlay them with gold. And thou shalt put the staves into the rings by the sides of the Ark, that the Ark may be borne with them.'
I'll apply the measurements of the regular cubit. I know I'll be criticised because few scholars do; they rely on the Egyptian cubit and the 'sacred' cubit, which are much more glamorous. But I'm right.
This is what we know for sure about the Ark: Year of construction: 1453 BC at the foot of Mount Sinai. 44 inches long 25 inches wide 25 inches high 84-gallon capacity 600 pounds in weight There are people who would suggest that the weight of the Ark was greater, around 1,100 pounds. Additionally, there is an idiot who dared to insist that the Ark weighed more than a ton. That is crazy. And they call themselves experts. They love to add the weight of the Ark itself. Poor idiots. They don't realise that gold, even though it is heavy, is too soft. The rings could not have supported such weight, nor would the wooden poles have been long enough for more than four men to carry it comfortably.
Gold is a very soft metal. Last year I saw a whole room covered in thin sheets of gold made from one good-sized coin, following methods dating back to the Bronze Age. The Jews were skilled crafts-men, and did not have great amounts of gold in the desert, nor would they have burdened themselves with such a great weight that they left themselves vulnerable to their enemies. No, they would have used a small amount of gold and created thin sheets of it to cover the wood. s.h.i.ttim wood, or acacia, is a solid wood that could last centuries without being damaged, especially if it was covered by a thin layer of metal that did not rust and was indifferent to the effects of time. It was an object built for eternity. How could it be otherwise, since it was the Timeless One who gave the instructions?
38.
THE EXCAVATION.
AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN.
Friday, 14 July 2006. 2:21 p.m.
'So the data had been manipulated.'
'Somebody else had the information, Father.'
'That's why they killed him.'
'I understand the what, where and when. If you'll just give me the how and the who, I'll be the happiest woman in the world.'
'I'm working on it.'
'Do you think it was an outsider? Maybe the man I saw at the top of the canyon?'
'I don't think you're that foolish, young lady.'
'I still feel guilty.'
'Well, you should stop. I was the one who asked you not to tell anyone. But believe me: someone in this expedition is a murderer. That's why it's more important than ever that we talk to Albert.'
'OK. But I think you know more than you're telling me - much more. Yesterday there was an unusual amount of activity in the canyon for that time of night. The doctor wasn't in her bed.'
'I told you . . . I'm working on it.'
's.h.i.t, Father. You're the only person I know who speaks so many languages but doesn't like to talk.'
Father Fowler and Andrea Otero were sitting in the shade of the west wall of the canyon. Since n.o.body had slept much the night before, after the shock of Stowe Erling's murder, the day had begun slowly and heavily. However, little by little, the knowledge that Stowe's magnetometer had discovered gold began to eclipse the tragedy, altering the mood in the camp. There was a whirlwind of activity around quadrant 22K, with Professor Forrester at its centre: a.n.a.lysis of the composition of the rocks, further tests with a magnetometer and, above all, measurements of the solidity of the ground for digging.
The procedure consisted of running an electric wire through the ground to find out how much current it would handle. A hole filled with earth, for example, has less electrical resistance than the undisturbed ground around it.
The results of the test were conclusive: the ground at this point was very unstable. This infuriated Forrester. Andrea watched as he gesticulated wildly, throwing papers into the air and insulting his workers.
'Why is the professor so angry?' asked Fowler.
The priest was sitting on a flat rock about a foot and a half above Andrea. He had been playing with a small screwdriver and some cables that he had taken from Brian Hanley's toolbox, paying little heed to what was going on around him.
'They've been running tests. They can't simply dig up the Ark,' Andrea replied. She had spoken with David Pappas a few minutes before. 'They believe that it's in a manmade hole. If they use the mini-excavator there's a good chance the hole will collapse.'
'They may have to go around it. That could take weeks.'
Andrea took another series of shots with her digital camera and then looked at them on the monitor. She had some excellent pictures of Forrester literally foaming at the mouth. A frightened Kyra La.r.s.en throwing her head back in shock after the news of Erling's death.
'Forrester is screaming at them again. I don't know how his a.s.sistants put up with it.'
'Maybe that's what they all need this morning, don't you think?'
Andrea was about to tell Fowler to stop talking nonsense when she realised that she had always been a fervent believer in using self-punishment as a way of escaping grief.
LB is proof of that. If I practised what I preached, I would have thrown him out of the window a long time ago. d.a.m.n cat. I hope he doesn't eat the neighbour's shampoo. And if he does, I hope she doesn't make me pay for it.
Forrester's screams were inducing people to scurry around like c.o.c.kroaches when the lights are turned on.
'Maybe he's right, Father. But I don't think it shows much respect for their dead colleague to carry on working.'
Fowler glanced up from his work.
'I don't blame him. He has to hurry. Tomorrow's Sat.u.r.day.'
'Oh, yes. The Sabbath Sabbath. The Jews can't even turn on a light once the sun sets on Friday. It's nonsense.'
'At least they believe in something. What do you believe in?'
'I've always been a practical person.'
'I suppose you mean a non-believer.'
'I suppose I mean practical. Wasting two hours a week in a place full of incense would take up exactly 343 days of my life. No offence, but I don't think it's worth it. Not even for a supposed eternity.'
The priest chuckled.
'Have you ever believed in anything?'
'I believed in a relationship.'
'What happened?'
'I screwed up. Let's just say that she had more faith in it than I did.'
Fowler remained silent. Andrea's voice had sounded slightly forced. She realised that the priest wanted her to unburden herself.
'On top of that, Father . . . I don't think that faith is the only motivating factor behind this expedition. The Ark is going to be worth a lot of money.'
'There are roughly 125,000 tons of gold in the world. Do you believe that Mr Kayn needs to go after the thirteen or fourteen inside the Ark?'
'I'm talking about Forrester and his busy bees,' Andrea replied. She loved arguing but hated it when her arguments were so easily refuted.