“Biblicil aten stone to gods eye do not err.” Edie stared at the computer screen, lower lip tucked behind her upper row of teeth. Then, frowning, she added, “We still don’t have a clue what it means.”
“True, but we know that the original Triad members, Franklin, Jefferson, and Adams, devised the anagram in July 1776. That, undoubtedly, was when they formulated their long-term plan to safeguard the Emerald Tablet,” he said, thinking that the most likely premise. “And, clever trio that they were, they knew that if there was a new capital city constructed from the ground up, no one would take notice of a man putting spade to dirt and placing something in a hole.”
“Because in 1800 when John Adams transported the Emerald Tablet to Washington, the whole city was one big construction zone,” Edie pointed out.
“From the informative chat with Ranger Walker, we learned that in 1793 Thomas Jefferson surveyed the seventy-seventh meridian. Which, in all likelihood, is when he selected the site where the Triad would hide the Emerald Tablet once it was conveyed to the new capital city.” He paused, taking a moment to flesh out the scheme. “My best guess is that ‘biblicil aten stone to gods eye do not err’ refers to the exact spot, here in Washington, where the Emerald Tablet was hidden. The three original Triad members knew all along that they would eventually hide the bloody thing on the seventy-seventh meridian.”
“But — and I hate to rain on our picnic — we need a signpost to point us in the right direction. The message originally inscribed on the Jefferson Pier no longer exists.”
He pointed to the last sentence in the paragraph. “Unless I’m greatly mistaken this is the phrase that was inscribed on Mister Jefferson’s pier.”
“ ‘I will stand on the top of the hill with the rod of God in mine hand,’ ” she read aloud. “That’s from the Old Testament, isn’t it?”
“The book of Exodus, to be precise. And it’s a line of scripture rife with layered meaning. The ‘rod of God’ was the wand that Moses used to work his miracles. According to the Bible, it was kept in the Ark of the Covenant.”
“Along with the Ten Commandments and the Emerald Stone.” Edie snapped her fingers, making the next connection. “And you mentioned earlier that one of Thoth’s attributes was an Egyptian was. Which was a type of rod, right?”
He nodded. “Additionally, in the eighteenth century, a ‘rod’ was a unit of measure used by surveyors. An instrument that Thomas Jefferson undoubtedly used in his survey of the seventy-seventh meridian. Rather tongue-in-cheek, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, but we were just at the pier and, well, there isn’t a hill in sight. If the scripture is supposed to be read literally, it means Jefferson was standing on a hill located somewhere on the seventy-seventh — I got it! Hand me that map!” Holding out her hand, Edie wiggled her fingers, the classic “gimme” gesture.
Caedmon quickly passed the map and pen to her. Anxious, hoping this truly proved a eureka! moment, he watched as Edie confidently drew two lines on the map, making a right-angle triangle.
“From the Jefferson Pier, head due north on Sixteenth Street, aka God’s line of longitude. Go approximately two miles and you come to”—she handed the map back to him—“Meridian Hill Park. As you can see, the Adams Annex, the Jefferson Pier, and Meridian Hill Park are the three vertices of a perfect right triangle.”
Bowled over, he stared at the drawing.
“ ‘I must find the catheti to my hypotenuse,’ ” he murmured, the disparate pieces falling into place. “That’s what the wily bastard Franklin wrote in The Book of Moses.”
“He did?”
“Indeed. And, in geometry, the catheti are the two shorter sides of a right triangle.”
“The hypotenuse being the longest of the three sides.”
“At the time, I thought it a figurative turn of phrase, Franklin wanting to find two younger men to do his legwork.” He waved away the flawed deduction.
Overhead, a dark flock flew across the sky in perfect avian formation. Of one mind, they suddenly swung to the left, not an errant bird among them.
He summoned a smile. “Triad. Triangle. Thoth the Thrice Great. Perfect symmetry.”
“Okay. Try this on… Suppose we actually find the Emerald Tablet. What happens then?”
Mmmm… an excellent question. For which there were two distinctly different answers: He could keep the sacred artifact for himself, hidden from the scholars, schemers, and occult fanatics who would descend like vultures. Or he could share his discovery with the world and let fate sort the clean laundry from the soiled sheets. Each of the scenarios had merit, Caedmon undecided.
“I seek neither fame nor fortune. That said, the quest for the Emerald Tablet is a search for wisdom, the ancient relic reputed to contain the knowledge of the Ages. The secret of creation itself.”
“The secret of creation?” Clearly put off by his reply, Edie pointed to an inscribed equation on the bronze statue. “E equals MC squared. As you no doubt know, that is often referred to as the mathematical equation for Genesis. It boggles the mind — well, my mind — anyway, to think that a teensy amount of mass can produce a huge amount of destructive energy. Poor Uncle Albert.”
“Indeed, Einstein discovered firsthand the horrific destruction that can ensue when man takes on the mantle of God.”
“I’ve often wondered how he slept at night knowing that the blast at Hiroshima killed one hundred thousand people,” Edie said, echoing his thoughts. “Create or annihilate… Why do I have this dreadful feeling that the Genesis code contained within the Emerald Tablet can do either?”
“Benjamin Franklin went to great lengths to keep his powerful discovery out of the hands of men who would misuse it.”
Her movements slow and deliberate, Edie returned her gaze to the bronze statute. “And Albert Einstein went to his grave regretting the fact that he didn’t.”
CHAPTER 74
“According to this plaque, there used to be a granite pier at Meridian Hill Park just like the one that’s on the Washington Monument grounds.” Edie turned toward the busy thoroughfare behind them. “With all the congestion, it’s hard to envision Sixteenth Street as God’s line of longitude.”
Caedmon reread the bronze plate affixed to the tall concrete wall that bordered the park. “It states that the pier marking the seventy-seventh meridian was situated precisely fifty-two feet and nine inches from where we’re currently standing.” Placing it in the center of what was now four lanes of fast-moving traffic. Damn. First a defaced pier, now one that’s gone missing. While his hopes weren’t dashed, they were dented.
“Back in the day, that being the year 1800 when Adams and Jefferson stashed their cache, this was nothing but a wild hinterland. In fact, the original L’Enfant plan for the new capital city never included the remote bluffs north of the downtown area.”
“And the park, when was it constructed?”
“Sometime in the 1920s. That’s when the area became a residential hub, folks moving up here in droves to escape the heat and humidity.” If Edie was disappointed by the missing pier, she gave no indication.
“Shall we?” Caedmon motioned to the covered stairway that led into the park.
An impressive bit of workmanship, the entry was reminiscent of a European citadel. But with a decidedly occult aspect, a flight of steps the age-old symbol of spiritual ascension. Moreover, the darkened passageway bespoke of the primordial chaos from which mankind evolved. The stairs inside Solomon’s Temple that led to the Middle Chamber.