Shrouded In Silence

18





Jack Townsend hurried through the back door into the office and found Michelle calmly typing away at her computer. Dropping his briefcase on the desk, he glanced at the stick-on notes Michelle had fixed across the top.

"A guy's showing up for an appointment at any moment?" Jack said. "Really?"

"Yeah, he called while you were gone and sounded urgent. I have no idea who the man is. By the way, you can enter through the front door now. The police released the crime scene."

"Good. The front entry is much easier to manage."

"What about Dov?" Michelle asked. "Think he's doing any good over in the Secret Archives this morning?"

"Hope so," Jack said. "Today's conversations are important. He's meeting with Father Donnello, the priest with the secret information." He looked at the small yellow notes a second time.

"Who in the world is Guido Valentino? Never heard of him before."

"Beats me," Michelle said.

"Hmm, I hope he's got something worthwhile on his mind because time is of the essence today. I'm expecting Dov to come back with a significant progress report on what's inside this so-called brown book. If so, we will need a long conversation. I'm safeguarding our time for that possibility."

"You bet. For sure I want to hear what he has to say." Michelle turned around. "Jack, I've not been trying to make you upset about how I see Dov. Maybe I'm wrong. It's just that I level with you about everything. And . . . and I have a few doubts."

"Don't worry," Jack said. "We'll get passed it."

The front door opened and a man in a business suit walked in. Looking to be in his mid-thirties, his dark skin and black hair signaled he probably was a local Italian. Tall with a stocky build and muscular shoulders, his penetrating eyes and thick eyebrows gave him the look of a person with a significant mentality. Unusually well-dressed, the man appeared affluent and dapper. He obviously knew how to make a good impression.

"Can I help you?" Michelle ask.

"Buongiorno. I am Guido Valentino," he said with a heavy Italian accent. "I have an appointment with Dr. Jack Townsend."

"Oh, yes," Jack said. "I am Dr. Townsend."

Guido Valentino bowed at the waist. "The pleasure is mine."

"Come in and sit down," Jack said. "Please meet my wife, Michelle."

"Ah! The woman I spoke with. Madam, thank you for making the arrangements." Valentino bowed again. "Thank you."

"We share all our experiences and research," Jack explained. "It is no problem for Michelle to listen. Tell me how I can help you."

"I want to help you, sir," Valentino sat down. "I read the story on your work in the newspaper and found it to be highly encouraging. I am interested in the same subject."

"The original ending to the Gospel of Mark?"

Valentino nodded his head. "I have studied Koine New Testament Greek for a number of years and have been involved in translating ancient manuscripts at the Musei Capitolini, Rome's oldest museum collection in the world. I know how to conduct the research that you are pursuing."

Jack held up his hand to stop Guido. "I'm sorry, but before we go any further, I must tell you that we have no funds to hire another staff person. We simply don't have the money."

Guido smiled. "Please, I have not come for a salary. I have sufficient funds to cover all of my own expenses. I am here as a volunteer to be of assistance to you."

Jack leaned back in his chair. "You are serious?"

"Dr. Townsend, my family has been in Rome for centuries. I know this city like the back of my hand. My time has been spent doing the work of a scholar. Because of this background, I am more than interested in your current project. It is exactly what I have been hoping for, and that is why I have come."

Jack glanced at Michelle sitting there with her mouth slightly open. Obviously, she was surprised.

"Perhaps, it would be best if I came to work for a month and you could see if my language skills are adequate. Should I not meet your needs, I would withdraw with no questions asked. However, if I am able to work, then I would be ready to be a major part of your project."

Jack studied Valentino carefully. If this man was deceptive, it certainly didn't show. Everything about his straightforwardness suggested he could be trusted, and he had a goodness about him. Moreover, this Italian manifested a humbleness that suggested he would be easy to work with.

"I have a statement describing my studies." Valentino pulled several sheets of paper from inside his coat. "I think this will answer any questions about my background."

Jack glanced through the resume. "Impressive. When could you start work with us?"

"How about tomorrow morning?"



Albert Stein took off the earphones and stared out the windshield of the van. He had heard enough. It was time for a decision, but he had to think first. The windshield mirrored his hard, set eyes and thick glasses. His blonde hair looked like a scrambled mess from having spent endless hours in the van and sleeping on the floor. His bloodshot eyes left a sinister appearance. Albert's older brother had once described him as having eyes that only his mother could love. The quip hung in Stein's memory like a splinter under his fingernail. He occasionally thought he should have killed his brother for that remark rather than only beat him with their father's leather whip. Lack of sleep in a comfortable bed always brought out the violence forever lurking in a hidden corner of his mind.

Clearly, the Townsends weren't wasting any opportunity, and the addition of a new translator to their staff limited the amount of time he had left to act on the situation. The more he thought about the matter, the clearer it became that he must act at once and that meant he needed Klaus Burchel back on the job. Regardless of what the man had done, his services would help complete the task at hand. The immediate order of business was to run him down and get Klaus working again. Then, the rest of his plan would follow.

Stein picked up his cell phone and started to dial. Only then did he notice the newsstand and the vendor hawking newspapers only a few feet away. He had been living in the stinking vehicle for days and had lost contact with what was going on in the outside world. For the first time, it struck him how bizarre his actions had become since Burchel disappeared. Crawling out the side door, he stepped onto the street.

Stretching felt good, and the air smelled fresh. He had been so intent on electronic eavesdropping that he hadn't bathed in days. No question about it: he had to find Burchel so he could return to his normal lifestyle. Listening day and night to the outside world through a headset was madness and it had to stop.

Stein noticed the vendor gazing at him and supposed his clothes must look like they had been pulled out of a dirty clothes hamper. Walking over to the old man, he grabbed a newspaper off the top of the pile. Without shifting from a hard stare, Stein slapped money on the stack of magazines. The vendor looked away but reached for the coins.

Stein leaned against an office building and started glancing through Il Messaggero to discover what he'd missed in the last several days. A story on the third page leaped off the page at him. He held it closer to his eyes.

PRIEST MURDERED



Police continue to search for clues in the murder of Father Raul Raffello, rector of Santa Maria della Concezione Church. Found behind the basilica with stabs wounds in the chest, the priest apparently was killed in the middle of the night. Police are not releasing information but continue to believe the priest interrupted an intruder and was killed by the assailant.



Albert Stein slowly lowered the newspaper and stared at the building in front of him.

"So that's what happened to Burchel!" he muttered to himself. "Klaus Burchel must have killed that priest. That's why he's disappeared. Burchel's on the run."



Afternoon had fallen by the time Jack Townsend glanced out the window and saw Dov Sharon walking up the sidewalk. He laid down his pencil and immediately stood up. "Hey, here comes our boy! Get ready for an update."

Michelle looked up. "My, my. I wonder what our hero has brought home."

Dov pushed the door open. "Oy vey! A reception committee just waiting for me to wander in. You'd think I had something important to say. My, my. How enchanting."

"Don't give us that Jewish country-boy lingo," Jack said. "We want to know what you've come up with immediately."

"Come up with?" Dov frowned. "Was I suppose to find out something today?" He plopped down in the chair and scratched his head. "Seems like there was something you wanted me to do, but I'm afraid it's slipped my mind."

"Come on!" Michelle insisted. "Cut the nonsense. You know we're dying to know what Father Donnello told you."

Dov grinned. "As a matter of fact, the gentleman and I became old-fashioned pals. We cozied up to each other like camping buddies. Once you get the good Father talking, it's hard to get him to stop."

"Let's get specific," Jack said.

Dov leaned over his desk and the grin disappeared. "The so-called 'brown book' is slang for a parchment that apparently was written in the first century. A member of the Sanhedrin named Alphaeus had apparently inquired about an opinion from a highly significant person who became a big-time player in the earliest church. The man was James, the brother of Jesus."

"The brother of Jesus!" Michelle shrieked.

"That's what I got from Father Donnello. They have a document in which the brother of Jesus is commenting on who he thinks Jesus of Nazareth was."

Jack dropped down in his chair. "You've got to be kidding."

"The official name of this little masterpiece is The Prologue of James. Apparently what we have is an opening into the mind of James where he lets his hair down about the family secrets."

"I've never heard of it," Jack almost whispered.

"That's the point. Late in the twentieth century, the manuscript was found during an excavation of the Convent of the Sisters of Zion in Jerusalem. Water kept seeping up through the floor of the chapel and workmen tried to fix the problem. By tradition, Jesus was dragged through the Ecce Homo arch that was supposed to be beneath this convent. Eventually, they unearthed the Lithostrotos, a piece of the original pavement with a game scratched on it that the Romans played to make someone a mock king. The archaeological discovery made headlines at the time. But what no one let leak out was the fact that they had turned up this document. The codex was whisked off to Rome and never saw the light of day. Are you beginning to get the picture?"

"You're implying that this manuscript contained some highly controversial ideas?" Michelle ask. "That's why we never heard of it?"

Dov grinned sardonically. "You think the church would hide such a thing?"

"They have before," Jack said. "What you've found is an amazing discovery."

"Yeah," Dov said. "Think about how the brother of Jesus might have reflected on his sibling growing up and claiming to be the messiah. We get hints in the Gospels that family members might have thought Jesus was on the deluded side some of the time. What if James recorded some information that blows the problem wide open?"

Jack rubbed his mouth nervously. "We are sitting on a keg of dynamite."