Dorothy Mcintosh - The Witch of Babylon

“But not Samuel. He checked it very carefully. We got wind of another attempt to steal it during the looting. That’s when he made up his mind to bring it here. ”

I cursed silently. Protecting another country’s history had grown into an obsession for Samuel.

Tomas saw the look in my eyes and assumed I disapproved. “We could never have talked him out of it, you know. We did try. It’s ironic—the looting also gave us the cover to get it away. Without Samuel we’d never have made it across the border.”

“Why not just keep it in Jordan and wait out the war?”

“The walls have ears over there. American collectors lobbied their government to relax the rules on exporting Iraqi antiquities in the fall of 2002, right before the invasion. They said Iraq’s policy forbidding the export of antiquities was ‘retentive.’”

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Archaeologists counter-petitioned to make sure thousands of historic sites would be protected and were promised nothing would be damaged. What a farce. Rumors have surfaced of massive theft and even the use of advanced infrared imaging systems and ground-penetrating radar. Before the war is over everything will have been strip-mined.”

I could see the pain written on his face. His feelings seemed genuine. “Was he suspicious about anyone in particular?”

“An American dealer and his associates.”

I mentally ticked off the most prominent American dealers in Mesopotamian antiquities. Not a large group, and I knew virtually everyone. “Did he give you any other description? Any idea of who it might be?”

“I don’t think he knew any more than that, or perhaps he didn’t wish to accuse someone without clear proof. But he did mention an office on West Thirty-fourth Street, a block or two from the Hudson River. He said some other items he suspected had been stolen from the museum were sent there from agents in Baghdad.”

“That sounds promising. What’s the address?”

Tomas sighed. “I’m sorry. That’s all I remember him saying, although he did find out the identities of two of the dealer’s associates, a man and a woman. The woman who threatened you, you said her name was Eris?”

“Yes,” I said, thinking again about her name. Eris, the Greek spirit of strife, war, and pain. It suits her.

“She’s the one.” Tomas snapped his fingers. “Her full name is Eris Haines. She’s a former employee of the Department of Defense, research division. They develop advanced weaponry, carry out scientific research with an impact on national security. Before that, she worked as a private security consultant in Bosnia.”

“And the man?”

“George Shimsky. Reportedly, a brilliant chemist. He suffered some kind of accident. Terrible scars on his face.”

I drained my espresso. “The two of them were terrifying. They may be linked to a website called the Alchemy Archives. Do you know anything about that?”

“Not about any group. You mentioned alchemy before. It’s from the Arabic al-kimia . A gift of the science of chemistry from the Arab nations to the West. Alchemy is supposed to have originated in Egypt, but you could make a compelling case that the earliest sources are Mesopotamian.”

“Why would alchemy have anything to do with the Book of Nahum?” I slid the question in again, determined to get a real answer this time.

He shrugged his shoulders. “One can find many hidden meanings in biblical scriptures. Samuel may have had an answer for you on that. But if so, he took it to his grave.”

He let that remark dangle for a moment before changing the subject. “I understand you were born in Turkey. Samuel said you were only three when your parents died in a mine disaster.”

The sudden switch in conversation convinced me Tomas knew more about the significance of alchemy than he was willing to reveal, but he persisted. “Did you never try to seek out your relatives?”

“They’d made it pretty clear they didn’t want me. Why would I?”

A slight flush on his neck indicated he knew he’d overstepped the bounds of politeness with someone he hardly knew. “You had some good fortune, though—you got Samuel. He never married. I find that curious.”

“He was married, ages ago. His wife passed away before he learned about me. That helped to make up his mind to take me under his wing. Her death left a gap, and he found out about me at just the right time.”

It was so humid you could practically see steam rising off the pavement outside. I ordered a glass filled with ice and a bottle of Lauquen, a crisp artesian water. When I offered some to Tomas he declined.

The heat didn’t seem to bother him at all, even though just looking out the window at the people sweltering made me uncomfortable. I grappled with his revelation. Samuel had discovered an original book of the Bible. If true, the find would be sensational. But pieces were deliberately missing from the story, and that troubled me.

“Anyway, back to what you were saying. Samuel had ties with most of the major museums and a number of options for safekeeping. So why bring the engraving here? I don’t think you’re giving me the whole story.”

Tomas took a breath, and in the gap I saw a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“There’s something else to this then?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“You don’t trust me?”

He tried to avoid my eyes. “You’ve seen what can happen. Until the danger has passed you’re safer not knowing. That’s probably why Samuel didn’t tell you himself.”

My patience finally hit the wall. “If you want to find the artifact, you need me. Tell me everything or I’m out of here.”

A few minutes passed in silence while he struggled with what to say. “Samuel believed it contained a concealed message.”

“You’re saying Nahum used some kind of code?”

“Not exactly. Not a cipher. It’s something to do with the way he wrote the book. Signs in the text the prophet left for his confederates.”

He could read the disbelief on my face. “It is possible. You’ve heard of the copper scroll they found at Kirbet Qumran with the Dead Sea Scrolls? It listed a number of sites throughout Israel. Hiding places for gold and silver.”

“That was written centuries after Nahum. There were no hidden messages. The locations were described; contemporary interpreters just can’t understand them. Don’t you think that if there was a secret message in Nahum’s prophecy, over thousands of years someone would have figured it out?”

“No.” Tomas’s voice dropped, and I sensed we were finally getting down to it.

“Why not?”

“Because the words on the engraving differ from even the most original version of the Hebrew Bible we have.”

Tomas’s voice was barely a whisper, his black eyes leveled at me. “You must admit I’ve been forthcoming with you, John Madison. Now it’s your turn. If you have some kind of lead I want to hear it.”

“Nothing concrete yet. I haven’t had a chance to follow anything up.”

“I expect to be kept informed. It’s the property of my country.”

“It will go back to Iraq through the proper channels.”

Keeping a lid on his temper seemed to be more and more of a challenge for Tomas. “My experience with valuable antiquities is that things can get derailed even through what you people call proper channels. An original book of the Bible? This would be something hard to let go of, especially when there’s no proof of where it came from. Samuel trusted me. You should too.”

Was he suggesting I intended to sell it myself, in the same breath as he invoked my dead brother? What a prick. I certainly wasn’t prepared to just hand it over to him. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” I said icily. “Let’s see whether I can find it first.”