‘And this intelligence comes from where? You spoke to Jude and Bartholomew and Andrew. None of them offered a specific place or date. Even Simon failed to confess to Baruch, and by all accounts Baruch did not ask politely.’
‘So why the security?’
‘Not for the second coming, I can assure you, but what the second coming might stand for. An attack of some kind, most likely a bomb. We know from Jude that whichever disciple Jesus loved is at the centre of their big event. When Jesus comes back, whatever that means, it’s going to happen in the beloved disciple’s lifetime. Peter confirmed this information under questioning. It was something Jesus told them, and Peter was his favourite. Now Peter is about to die, so if the attack is going to happen it has to be soon.’
‘And John?’
‘Can’t find him anywhere. Let’s face it, he may already be dead. Rome can be a tough city if you don’t have money. Peter is the last one.’
‘What happened to religious tolerance? Just out of interest. That used to be a priority of ours.’
‘We should have crucified the twelve of them, right at the start. Tolerance makes us look weak, but tomorrow Peter comes to the Circus and everyone will see how intolerant we can be, when we make the effort. No secret assassins, no local mobs. Civilisation will take responsibility for killing Peter the disciple of Jesus, as a lesson to anyone who chooses to favour superstition over reason.’
‘You’ve misread the enemy. The disciples aren’t a danger in the way you think. They have a strategy and you’re being played for a longer-term result. The disciples of Jesus want to die.’
‘Nobody wants to die. You’ve been on the road too long.’
‘It was the same with Jesus, and Lazarus before him. This goes back to Jerusalem. Death works in their favour. Andrew admitted it.’
‘He’s a liar. Their belief system is based on lies, a fact you choose to ignore. No one walks on water, or dies and comes back to life. Of course they’re scared of death, otherwise they wouldn’t be human.’
‘It’s not too late to stay Peter’s execution. Out in the territories they’re using the crucifix as a symbol of their support for Jesus, if you can believe that. Listen to me, Valeria. You brought me back as an expert.’
‘No one else wanted the job. No glamour, no glory.’
‘I’m advising you to keep Peter alive. Change the plan and question him further.’
‘Too late. Much too late. Peter deserves his fate, because coming to Rome was a suicidal act.’
‘My point. That’s my point exactly.’
Cassius Gallio wants eye contact but Valeria looks away, deciding whether he’s right. She’s a born Speculator, as he is; she can’t help but speculate. Gallio pushes home his advantage. ‘Was Peter an easy arrest? I bet he was.’
The low-income workers sweep at the sand, and they sweep. They level out the arena, then level it again. Valeria lets a silence develop. Cassius Gallio loses.
‘Terror isn’t their strategy. Dying is their strategy.’
‘You’re not making sense. You’re a deserter, which means you gave up on the reasonable approach. The disciples don’t want to die.’
‘Yes, listen. Killing them is counter-productive at every level.’
‘That doesn’t sound very likely. Not at every level. Not in our business.’
‘Which is why we fell into their trap. We assume that dying can’t be positive, but for them it is, and death is the only plan they have. They were never going to stage an attack.’
‘And the fire?’
‘Bad luck. Coincidence, I don’t know. The fire means you have to kill Peter, or now that you want to kill Peter you have your justification. Everything ties in with their plan, or they cleverly make connections after the event. They’re brilliant opportunists.’
‘You’ve seen the list of victims at Ground Zero, the photos taped to the fence. If Jesus or his god is responsible, someone has to pay.’
‘We don’t know they’re responsible, not for the fire.’
‘The odds look good, though. According to you Jesus had himself killed, and then killed the disciples to grow his religion. Why would he bother showing mercy to people he doesn’t even know?’
‘These are his calculations, not mine.’ Gallio thinks he understands what Jesus is doing now, but he can’t see as far as the ultimate why. ‘I don’t know how he works them out.’
‘No one can think that far ahead.’
Valeria waves Gallio’s theory away, pushing out his fears to merge into the empty air of the stadium. She has senatorial committees to placate, decisions to implement that are not her own. She isn’t always free to speculate. ‘Soon the twelve disciples of Jesus will be dead, meaning the principal eyewitnesses to those unbelievable miracles will be gone. Without first-hand accounts to back them up, as admissible in a court of law, the events become lies then fiction. No one will believe they ever happened.’
Gallio gestures around, taking in the empty seats for forty thousand witnesses. ‘They’ve set you up perfectly. Major public event. His beloved Peter alive and at the heart of civilisation. Aren’t you worried Jesus may have plotted this?’
‘We’ve doubled security. Every operative we have has been briefed and issued with his picture.’
‘Think about it. You’re bringing together a huge audience who’ll be reminded by the taunting of Peter, who looks like Jesus, that Jesus himself is supposed to be dead. This is his method: he makes his exploits unforgettable with witnesses and you’re providing him with forty thousand live YouTube uploads. A beloved disciple to save, a sellout occasion at which to reappear, a frustrated Messiah who loves a show. Who could fail to be impressed?’
Valeria leans forward in her seat, takes a renewed interest in the arena. A steward bites the corner of a triangular sandwich, head back, pulling in his stomach to avoid falling crumbs. A pair of petrol-headed pigeons swoop in for the clean-up. Then Gallio sees what Valeria wants him to see. His daughter Alma is in the arena of the Circus Maximus. She looks older, too old for the Ave helium balloon she holds in her hand, while her personal guide points out items of architectural interest. A man in jacket and sunglasses follows them with a finger to his ear.
‘In the arena,’ Gallio says, sitting back. He breathes out with disbelief. ‘You are unforgivable.’
‘She’s a lovely girl, very excited to be in Rome. When you went missing in action I felt it was our duty to provide for your family.’
‘Where’s her mother?’
‘Safe in Jerusalem, but also quite content. We’ve booked Alma in for a series of sessions with the leading physiotherapist in Rome. Comes highly recommended, reckons he can cure that limp she has.’
‘You’re threatening me.’
‘What’s the point of our Roman lives if not to help when we can? You’ll have to trust in my good intentions.’
The guide is showing Alma the portcullis gate through which the lions arrive, and he indicates with broad gestures how lions and also hyenas first turn to the left whatever prey is placed before them. Strange, but true.
‘Once upon a time you were a decent Speculator, Cassius, and the CCU acknowledges that, but on this particular case you lost your bearings. The problem and the solution are much simpler than you want to make them.’
‘So how does Jesus qualify as Complex Casework?’
‘We’re tidying up loose ends. That’s all we have left to do.’
Valeria pats Gallio’s arm, as if comforting a child frightened by a story. Poor thing. None of his concerns are real. Gallio watches Alma limp into the tunnel to the underground stables and chariot house, always popular with visitors. He loses sight of her.