“The crucifixion,” Pratt said with wide eyes.
“So it was all a fraud?” Zane asked.
“The whole thing.”
Zane sat back. “An interesting story, but what does it have to do with Roger Lawson?”
“Roger Lawson purchased it from the dig sponsors then was very outspoken in promoting it as Pilate’s ossuary.”
“It’s hard to criticize him if he didn’t know it was a fraud,” Carmen said.
“It’s true he bought it in good faith,” Amanda said. “I think most believe he should’ve noticed all the red flags.”
“So how did they find out it was a fraud?” Zane asked.
“The ossuary became very controversial, with many in the archaeological community expressing doubt about its authenticity. Eventually, it reached a boiling point. To his credit, Lawson brought in a number of world-renowned epigraphers to examine the engraved name. After completing their analysis, they concluded it was a forgery. A well-crafted forgery, but a forgery nonetheless.”
“So you’re saying we should take anything he tells us with a grain of salt?” Zane asked.
“I think we’re doing the right thing to talk to him, particularly since he’s familiar with most of the bizarre artifacts out there. I just think we need to verify any information he passes along. As I said before, he’s not a bad man. After all, he was willing to bring in the very best to examine the Pilate ossuary.”
The voice of the pilot crackled through the overhead speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to begin our descent into Ben Gurion Airport. Please take your seats, and fasten your seat belts. I hope you enjoyed the ride.”
Zane drained the last of his coffee then set the cup on the table. “Time to get some answers.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“I think that’s it.” Carmen pointed through the windshield.
Darkness had fallen, but Zane saw the turn just ahead. They had almost reached their destination.
“Let’s check in one last time before going up.” Zane slowed the Kia and pulled off the road. Coming to a stop, he cut off his headlights and glanced in the rearview mirror. A white cargo van containing Reid, Pratt, Keiko, and Emily pulled up behind him.
Zane glanced at the time on the console. They were due at Lawson’s residence in ten minutes. The meeting had come about more quickly than expected. Father Fiori had managed to find a good number for the Australian collector, and Zane contacted him upon arriving in Tel Aviv. During the call, Zane told him they were a private investigative team looking into the disappearance of Dr. Richard Pauling. He also said they were attempting to obtain information on an ancient document Pauling had been working on. While he didn’t go into much detail, he did say the trail of clues had taken them to the Vatican. He also said the Vatican had suggested the meeting.
Lawson had agreed, although it came on the condition the meeting take place at his residence in Beit Zayit, a mountaintop community west of Jerusalem. Zane accepted immediately. He would’ve preferred to meet at a neutral location, but he also realized they were the ones asking for help. He got the impression Lawson was not someone who cared for public appearances.
Zane spoke into the mic on his cuff. “All set?”
“Yes, sir,” Pratt responded from the van.
“We’ll proceed up the mountain from here. Give us about two minutes then come in behind us.”
“Copy that. Do you have any idea how long the meeting will last?”
“Negative. It depends on how much information he has to offer. We’ll stay as long as we need to. We’ll let you know if anything comes up.”
“Copy that.”
Zane pulled back up the road then turned left up the mountain. After passing through a grove of trees and a columned gate, they entered Beit Zayit. The homes were all high-end. In fact, it seemed the higher the elevation, the more upscale the homes. The better the view, the higher the price.
Their plan was simple. Zane, Carmen, and Amanda would travel to Lawson’s home, while those in the van continued up to the community swimming pool, which Carmen had located on a satellite map. While Zane didn’t anticipate any problems, it made sense to have the rest of the team close by.
“I think that’s his gate on the right,” Carmen said.
Zane pulled up to the metal post. Immediately, a voice came through the speaker. “How may I help you?” someone asked in accented English.
“We’re here to see Mr. Lawson. I believe he’s expecting us.”
There was no answer, but the gate swung inward. Zane drove around the circular drive and stopped at the front entrance.
“Pretty snazzy,” Amanda said from the back seat.
The white stucco ranch with a red-tile roof looked like something from Santorini or Mykonos, a place befitting a man of Lawson’s wealth. Zane imagined the view was stunning.
A man in khakis and a white button-down shirt waited for them as they stepped out. “Welcome. My name is Eitan.”
Zane extended his hand. “I’m Michel Bergeron, and these are my associates, Mariella Bigatton and Madison Stewart.” All the names were aliases regularly used by the operatives.
“The pleasure is mine.” Eitan motioned toward the door. “Please come in.”
After entering the home, he led them across the foyer and through a doorway on the other side. Lighted alcoves filled with large statues and expensive-looking vases lined the wide corridor beyond.
As they passed a hall, Zane caught movement in his peripheral vision and glanced to his left. A woman exited one of the rooms and turned toward them. She was young — probably late twenties — with shoulder-length curly red hair. She wore a white T-shirt and black leggings that revealed a physically fit figure. Her slightly damp hair suggested she’d just hopped out of the shower. She held Zane’s gaze for a moment then crossed the hall and entered another room. Who was she? Lawson was married, but Zane had no information on his wife’s appearance.
A minute later, Eitan led them through a set of French doors at the rear of the home. A massive tiled patio opened outside. Without stopping, Eitan crossed and led them down a series of wide steps. At the bottom was a Roman-style concrete pool, its shimmering waters glistening in the light of several torches arranged around the perimeter.
Eitan gestured toward a table and cushioned chairs. “Please, make yourselves at home. May I get you something to drink? Water? For those who are interested, we also have something stronger.” He smiled.
“Water would be good,” Zane said. Carmen and Amanda asked for the same.
As they settled into the chairs, Reid’s voice came through Zane’s earpiece. “We’re in place.”
“We’re at the pool in the back,” Zane whispered.
“I hate you,” Pratt said.
“I have my job, and you have yours,” Zane said. “You’ll be pleased to know we’re not in the water.”
“I still hate you.”
“We’re going radio silent now.”
“Copy that,” Reid said.
“What a view,” Amanda said.
Zane shifted his gaze past the cypress trees on the other side of the pool. The dim outline of mountains rose to the west, their steep slopes adorned with a smattering of lights. An incredible view indeed.
“Gorgeous,” Carmen said. “I could get used to this.”
“I’m glad you like our little sliver of paradise,” someone said from behind.
Zane turned to see two people crossing the patio, a man and a little girl. The lights from the house made it hard to see their faces, but he assumed the man was Lawson. And if that was Lawson, the little girl was likely his daughter.