The Moses Stone

'Kill her,' the tall man instructed, as Ahmed walked towards Angela's chair, 'but take your time. Just cut her up a little to begin with. Start with her cheeks and forehead.'

Angela didn't say anything, but Bronson could see the naked terror on her face, and the effort she was making to hide her fear from their captors.

'You see, Bronson,' the tall man said, his tone conversational, almost friendly, 'I've always believed that my clay tablet was part of a set. Perhaps you've come to the same conclusion? I have a theory. I think the tablets, the complete set of tablets, I mean, reveal the location of the Silver Scroll, and perhaps even of the Mosaic Covenant, though that's probably a bit less likely. Both of those treasures are worth fighting for, even worth killing for, so you can see why I want the tablet returned.'

Bronson was tugging desperately against the plastic cable ties that held him prisoner in the wooden chair, knowing his efforts were entirely futile, but determined to escape if he possibly could.

'But I don't have the bloody tablet. Haven't you listened to a single word I've said? I DON'T HAVE THE BLOODY TABLET. And neither of us has any idea where it is.'

'We'll see,' the tall man said, turning his seat slightly to face Angela's chair, the better to watch his henchman at work.

'Don't do this,' Bronson pleaded. 'Please don't do this.'

'It won't take long,' the tall man said. 'And the sooner we get started, the sooner it'll be over for her.'

Ahmed was standing beside Angela's chair, stroking his fingers gently down her cheek, a slight smile on his face.

Angela's eyes were wide, and she was gasping for breath as she strained against the ties that held her firmly in place.

'Wait,' the tall man said, as Ahmed started to lift the blade of his flick-knife towards Angela's face. 'Gag her first, try to keep the noise down.'

Ahmed nodded, clicked the knife closed and took a roll of thick black tape from his pocket. He tore off a piece about eight inches long, walked behind Angela's chair and positioned the tape over her mouth.

'Keep it clear of her nose. We don't want her to suffocate.'

Ahmed ensured that the tape was securely in place, then stepped back beside the chair, snapping open his flickknife again.

'Please, please stop,' Bronson begged.

'It's too late now.' The tall man nodded at Ahmed. 'Get on with it.'

39

'You have some news?' Eli Nahman asked, as he walked into the room in the ministry building in Jerusalem, Yosef Ben Halevi following close behind him.

'Yes,' Levi Barak said, gesturing to the two academics to take seats at the table. 'Through one of our operatives in Morocco,' Barak began, 'we do now have more information about this relic. But we still don't know where it is. Our best guess is that the English couple mailed it to their home.'

'Can you send someone to check that?' Nahman asked.

Barak shook his head. 'There's no need,' he said. 'Our people in London have already started investigating.'

'And?'

'And we're not the only ones looking for it.'

Nahman glanced at Ben Halevi. 'Who?' he asked.

'There were two obvious addresses to cover in Britain,' Barak began, not answering Nahman's question directly. 'The O'Connors' own house and the one belonging to their daughter and son-in-law. Both are in a city called Canterbury, in Kent, in south-east England. We organized watchers at both properties. Yesterday, the team covering the O'Connors' property observed their daughter drive to the house and go inside. About ten minutes later an unknown male was seen at the side door of the house. He'd approached the property from the rear, across a stretch of waste ground, not down the street, which was why they didn't see him coming. Our team got several photographs of him.'

Barak passed each man two pictures. They showed a dark-skinned, black-haired man, obviously filmed through a powerful telephoto lens, standing beside a house.

'He's holding a crowbar,' Barak continued, 'and he used it to force the side door. He was apparently unaware that anyone was inside the property. A few minutes later he came out of the house and ran away, using the same route as before, down the garden and over the waste ground.

'Several minutes after that, a neighbour entered the house – perhaps she'd seen the daughter's car parked in the driveway – and emerged seconds later screaming. Police cars and an ambulance appeared, and we now know that Kirsty Philips, the O'Connors' daughter, had been killed, obviously by this intruder.'

'Who is he?' Nahman demanded.

'We don't know,' Barak replied. 'We've circulated an "anything known" request through all the intelligence services with whom we have good relations but I don't expect this man's face will be on any of their databases. We believe he's probably a member of a Moroccan gang.'

'And did he get the tablet?'

'We don't think so. Our watchers are still in place, and the same man has been seen in the vicinity again, but he didn't approach the house because of the large number of police there. Obviously, if he had got the tablet, he would be long gone.'

'So where is it?' Ben Halevi demanded.

Barak shrugged. 'We don't know. It could still be in the post system somewhere, or maybe the British police are sitting looking at it. If they are, we should find out today, through one of our contacts in the Metropolitan force.'

'And if they're not?'

'The moment this man' – Barak gestured at the photographs on the table – 'reappears after the police have left the house, I've given orders to our surveillance team to snatch him for interrogation.'

An expression of distaste passed across Nahman's face. 'But I haven't been consulted about any such action.'

Barak shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Eli, but this matter has now moved a long way up the tree. I've come here to keep you informed as a matter of courtesy, but I'm now taking my orders direct from the head of the Mossad. Finding that tablet has become my highest priority. All other considerations are secondary, and any level of collateral damage is acceptable. And it means that anyone who tries to prevent us from obtaining the relic will be considered expendable.'

The shock clearly registered on Nahman's face. 'Dear God,' he muttered. 'Is this really necessary?'

Barak nodded and glanced at the two men. 'If you're right in your analysis of the pictures we've recovered, those four clay tablets could lead us to the ultimate key to Jewish sovereignty. We will do whatever it takes to recover that relic.'

40

Ahmed grabbed a handful of Angela's hair and pulled her head firmly against the chair. He ran the back of the blade of the flick-knife down her cheeks, first one, then the other, playing with her, the tip of the cold steel leaving a transient white furrow on her lightly tanned skin, a mark that faded into invisibility almost as soon as the blade had passed.

'Which side first?' he muttered, leaning close to her ear. 'It's your face, so you can choose.'

Angela's eyes bulged as she choked behind the tape gag, a thin trickle of mucus running from her nose. Bronson had never seen such terror on any human face, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

'I'll tell you anything I know,' he said desperately.

'Tell me where the tablet is,' the tall man replied, his voice rising almost to a shout at the end of the sentence.

'I don't know,' Bronson said bitterly. 'And I won't know, no matter what you do to me, or to Angela.'

'Then she'll die here, and so will you. Get on with it, Ahmed,' he added.

At that instant there was a sudden noise from the floor above the cellar. The tall man grimaced in annoyance, stood up and turned towards the door. Ahmed stopped moving, his blade resting on Angela's left cheek.