Richard Beard - Acts of the Assassins

There are no drugs in this or any other box that will bring a patient back to life.

‘You’ve delivered almost exactly what we prayed for. Thank you.’

‘We need to discuss terms.’

Jude looks blank. Perhaps he doesn’t understand how business works, whereas Gallio has arrived with a range of possible deals. He’ll send for more drugs in exchange for information leading to the arrest of Jesus. If Jude wants to do this nicely. If he doesn’t, Gallio can harass him on suspicion of the murder of Judas. Gallio is ready to invoke Interpol, confiscate Jude’s papers, close his beloved hospital, make his life a misery, but sitting beside him on the stairs Gallio doesn’t believe that Jude is the murderer of Judas. Nor is he Jesus in disguise.

Jude places his hand on Cassius Gallio’s hand. At last Jude touches him, flesh to flesh, and looks him squarely in the eye. Gallio wonders what he wants.

‘You’re not a pharmaceutical salesman, are you?’

The stairwell lights clunk out. Beirut power outage. The two men sit in the darkness, holding hands. A not unpleasant experience, Gallio thinks. In fact he finds himself strangely comforted.

‘I can organise a delivery of medicines,’ he says. ‘But you have to tell me about Jesus. Is he still alive?’

‘He is.’ Jude squeezes Gallio’s hand. His palm is dry, waxy. ‘I am the least of the disciples but this much I know. Jesus is alive. Very much so.’

‘Where can I find him?’

‘At the right hand of the father.’

‘He’s not in Nazareth. We checked. Do you have proof, some evidence you could show me?’

‘In my heart I do.’

As his eyesight adjusts, Cassius Gallio thinks he sees Jude smile. He withdraws his hand, and wonders if Jude is mocking him. The stairwell is too dark to be sure.

‘Wherever we spread the message we gain new converts,’ Jude says. ‘Take that as the proof. We tell people the good news that Jesus is alive, and they believe us because it’s true.’

‘Your former associate James is dead. I don’t know if bad news gets through to you, but he was publicly beheaded in Jerusalem.’

‘I remember you now.’ Jude leans away, as if in the almost-dark he’ll see Gallio better from a distance. ‘You’re coming back to me. You used to dress differently, and you were younger, but you led the original search for the body of Jesus, didn’t you? You used to hang around in the lobby of our hotel.’

‘Are you in touch with the others?’

‘I pray for them. I’m confident they also pray for me.’

‘I mean in the real world.’

‘I did hear about James. He was beheaded in Jerusalem in front of a crowd, but was so courageous he never flinched. His executioner was deeply moved, and he converted to Jesus instantly.’

‘That’s what you heard about James?’

‘We have more followers now than ever.’

Cassius Gallio would like to be gentle, as he would with anyone who isn’t all there. He feels for his phone to show Jude some images of Jesus, to confirm the most accurate likeness. Gallio doesn’t have his phone.

‘Jude. I know certain things about you.’

He reminds himself that along with eleven others Jude is implicated in theft, murder, terrorism and a lifetime of religious deception.

‘You’ve used at least three alias names at border controls, including Jude Thaddeus, Judas Thaddaeus and Lebbaeus. You’ve created a bureaucratic mess for Customs that on its own could get you deported. You also have a murky past in Jerusalem as an associate of a convicted criminal.’

‘He was innocent.’

‘They always are.’

‘My turn to ask a question. Are you truly looking for Jesus?’

Jude sounds tetchy, which is good. Gallio wants to harry him, to push him to his breaking point, ascension level.

‘Jesus is dead,’ Gallio says.

‘Jesus is coming back.’

Cassius Gallio sits forward in the dark, elbows on his knees, and does the thing with his fingers. In the dark he can’t get the pads of the little fingers to line up properly, or not as neatly as he’d like. Now he can. He is fully in control.

‘What does that actually mean ?’

‘He’s coming back to judge the quick and the dead.’

Gallio’s fingers slip. ‘Where should I go to see this?’

‘He didn’t mention a place.’ The tone of Jude’s voice is difficult to gauge, and Gallio can’t tell if he’s disappointed or evasive. He’s a very practised liar. ‘Jesus will come down from the clouds, and the world will end.’

In a nearby street an Arab wedding bursts with music then stops as suddenly. A sound-test for the amplifiers.

‘Show some pity for the sick and dying upstairs,’ Gallio says. ‘Be more precise, and I’ll give you every drug you need. You can save every patient in your care.’

The twitch near Gallio’s eye is back. He lets it hammer, and the nerve doesn’t tire until he pinches the skin between his fingers, squeezes until his face hurts. ‘When is the second coming due to happen? When you last saw Jesus, how much detail did he give you?’

Jude inhales deeply through his nose, extra oxygen pulled into his brain for a big decision. He holds his breath. The drugs will alleviate suffering, and whatever Jesus is planning no one can stop him, not if Jesus is the person Jude believes he is. He exhales.

‘He’ll come back while at least one of us is alive. That’s what he said.’

‘One of who?’

‘His disciples. He made that promise quite clearly.’

‘Which one?’

‘The one he loved.’

Gallio rocks back and whistles through his teeth. Now he has something, a clue, a first sense of how long Jesus plans to stay in hiding. It’s a start, and yet he worries that progress like this is too good to be true. ‘I thought he loved you disciples equally, loved everybody?’

‘He does,’ Jude says: ‘even you, if you give him a chance. Give him a chance to love you. Otherwise I doubt you’re going to find him.’

‘Don’t change the subject. He loves one of you more than the others. Is that right?’

‘If you want to find him, be serious about looking for him.’

Cassius Gallio can’t place Jude in a category. He knows from the files about Jude’s rural upbringing in a family of Galilean farmers, and Gallio respects him for the distance travelled between Nazareth and here. Jude wasn’t born with the same advantages as Gallio, but Gallio is prepared to believe that a former peasant from upcountry Israel should have information worth procuring. What he can’t understand, if god doesn’t exist, is what kind of person believes he’s called by god.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Gallio asks. ‘What do you expect to gain?’

Jude had given up a steady living to tell anyone who’d listen that the last would be first and the first last. He is confident that the meek and the peacemakers will be blessed, along with those who accept they’re spiritually weak. The humble will be rewarded, as will the merciful and the pure of heart.

‘None of your wish list is going to happen, Jude. Believe me. I’ve seen the world, and you’re asking too much.’

‘Jesus will be back in the lifetime of one of the disciples. He promised.’

‘Is that a threat?’

Cassius Gallio wants to make a stand, as he had the first time round in Jerusalem by insisting on the human truth that somewhere in the city the disciples had hidden a body. He could kill Jude now, here in the dark, in the stairwell of a quarantined hospital. Except the Speculators are not assassins. This enquiry, entrusted to him by Valeria of the Complex Casework Unit, will proceed on a civilised and rational basis. Jude can pass on a warning about this meeting. Let the surviving disciples know that Cassius Gallio the former Speculator is back, and he’s seriously looking for Jesus.