Cohen looked at him for a moment, then nodded. ‘There is one other thing you could do for us, if you feel up to it.’
‘If I can.’
‘We’d like you to take a look around inside Mr. Strauss’s flat.’
Since he didn’t intend to leave the city without doing that anyway, Lourds readily agreed.
‘We’ve shot video of this whole flat, but we don’t know what we’re looking for.’ Detective Cohen gestured at the rooms. ‘We do know that some things were taken.’
‘Stolen?’ Lourds inspected the room quietly, juxtaposing how it looked with how he remembered from his visits. A historian always struggled to find a place to keep all his papers, documents, and books. Lev Strauss had fought the same losing battles.
Shelves lined the walls, filled with books that had bookmarks and flags through them. Magazines and bound papers filled neatly stacked boxes. A few museum-quality pieces, small artifacts from the Muslim, Christian, and Judaic worlds, occupied places of honor among the books.
Lev’s study was even more jam-packed. Open books lay on top of open books, and the scholar inside Lourds cringed at the sight because it meant the bindings would eventually give way. He didn’t know how many priceless books he’d seen that had been abused like that.
At the same time, Lourds knew that if anyone invaded his home study or his office at Harvard, they would find books treated in exactly the same manner.
‘His computer is missing.’ Lourds stared at the void in the middle of the messy desk.
‘Who said you weren’t a detective?’ Segalovitch leaned against the doorframe and smirked.
Lourds ignored the man and looked at Cohen.
‘His computer was missing when we got here.’
‘Lev was in the habit of leaving files stuck out in cyberspace. Have you checked any of his on-line accounts?’ Lourds asked the question trying to appear helpful, but he knew Lev would never have trusted anything worthwhile to a computer site.
‘We’ve found some of them. We’re searching for others. So far, everything we’ve turned up hasn’t been helpful.’
‘That’s too bad.’ Lourds put his hands on his hips like he was doing his best to figure something out, but inside he wanted to escape the detectives’ scrutiny and get to the Wohl Archaeological Museum. If Lev had left him a message in the event something had happened to him, it would be there.
He hoped.
‘What was here?’ Cohen pointed at the bare wall near the desk.
Lourds walked over to the wall and ran his fingers along the dusty shelves. Patterns in the dust showed where some objects had recently stood. ‘Your people didn’t take these?’
‘No. Those shelves were empty when we got here. Gone. Just like the computer.’
Lourds’s heart hurt at the thought of all those things missing. ‘These were Lev’s special collections. He worked at a lot of digs, put in thousands of hours on different projects. He was an archaeologist and linguist who made a difference.’ He looked at Cohen and spoke from the heart. ‘He was a good man, Detective. He deserved better than this. Catch whoever killed him.’
Cohen nodded. ‘We will.’
Once they were through with Lev’s flat, Lourds accepted Cohen’s offer to drive him to his hotel. He checked into the David Citadel Hotel, said good-bye to the detectives after exchanging cell phone numbers with them, and went up to his room.
There, he hooked up his computer and checked his mail. There were a few video clips from Gloria Chen and David Hu, regaling him with new thoughts on various pieces from the temple, and asking whether he’d managed to crack the language yet.
There was a lot of other e-mail as well, from his literary agent, his publisher, fans, the university staff — including the dean, and friends. He left them all for later.
After a leisurely shower, he changed clothing, then got back on the computer and found the nearest electronics store that carried a blacklight flashlight. He’d need it in the morning.
Stretching out on the bed, he lay down and took a nap. When his alarm woke him, it was 8 a.m.
Then he went out the hotel’s back way and took off on foot. One of the many good things about Jerusalem was that it wasn’t far to anywhere.
Normal operation hours for the Wohl Archaeological Museum were from Sunday to Thursday, from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. But on holidays and Fridays they were open from 9 to 1.
Lourds went down the stone steps leading to the underground complex and was completely blown away by the excavation work again. Many visitors to Jerusalem didn’t know that the city existed on two levels. The modern-day city that everyone saw was referred to as the ‘Upper City.’
In the days of Herod the Great (37–04 BC), the families of important temple priests had lived in mansions throughout the area. Excavations by the Institute of Archaeology of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, the Israel Exploration Society, and the Israel Department of Antiquities (now known as the Israel Antiquities Authority) started in 1968, shortly after the Six-Day War.
From 1969 to 1982, those excavations were directed by Dr. Nahman Avigad. The archaeologist had also published one of the Dead Sea Scrolls, helped with the Masada excavation, and found the Broad Wall that protected the city during King Hezekiah’s reign in the late eighth century BC. Lourds loved the man’s work, but what fascinated him most was Avigad’s study of Hebrew seals. One of the seals, according to Avigad, had belonged to Queen Jezebel. Despite peer challenges, Avigad had stuck to his guns in his claims.
The Burnt House had always captivated Lourds’s attention as one of the most intriguing artifacts that had been discovered. It had been found under ashes, informing excavators that the building had burned down, but the ground floor was miraculously saved.
Lourds stood in the doorway for a moment and imagined what it must have been like before the restoration efforts. Avigad and his people still had so many incredible finds ahead of them: the stone kitchenware that was used instead of pottery to keep the cleanliness by edict of the Halacha, the Roman-period oil lamps and inkwells, the perfume workshop tools that included measuring cups and bowls, an iron spear that might have belonged to a Jewish fighter, and the ghastly remains of a young woman’s arm from fingertips to elbow.
That sight had stayed in Lourds’s mind. The arm bones had been buried according to Jewish custom, but pictures of the find remained on display.
A short distance farther on, Lourds found the mikveh, the ritual bath used by men and women. Regulations varied widely among the different interpretations of the religion, but most agreed that the ritual baths had to be fed by natural springs and be deep enough to cover the person bathing.
The mikveh was constructed of stone and had two doorways at the top of the steps: one for entering and one for leaving. Lourds went down when no one else was there. He took the Black Scorpion blacklight he’d purchased from the electronics store from his pocket.
He stopped at the bottom of the mikveh’s stone steps, then turned to his right and tracked the blacklight beam across the stones, counting as he went.
Thomas, if I ever have anything that is important and must be found, I will leave it where you can find it. Only you and I will know of this place. If, for whatever reason, I cannot finish my study of whatever this thing might be, I want you to promise me that you will look for it.
They’d been drunk at the time. It had been after Lev had gotten out of the hospital and been fitted with his prosthetic leg, after which walking with the prosthesis had proven both sad and hilarious.