The Moses Riddle (Thomas McAllister 'Treasure Hunter' Adventure Book 1) (16 page)

When the United States government acquires a valuable artifact, the National Museum of Art is the first place it goes, especially if it is a secret treasure. This was true for three reasons; first, the government owns and operates the museum and, therefore, can maintain secrecy. Second, the museum is close to the Pentagon and convenient to visit and watch; and third, and most importantly, the NMA only hires people who are tops in their field. And, unlike other government agencies, they pay well.

George Valmer, who had been Chief Director of the Museum for fifteen years, could not recall ever having such a powerful group of Washington insiders at the museum to discuss a single artifact. Then again, he had never had such a valuable treasure. Over the course of his long career, he had seen most of the thousands of secret treasures that the government had acquired, from masterpieces stolen by the Nazis to the best fakes ever made . . . but
never
anything of this magnitude. The Ark of the Covenant and the Ten Commandments! It was beyond comprehension.

The Deputy Director of the CIA, Charles Hargrove, had called him on the phone only yesterday and told him, on a secure line, that he had come into possession of the Ark of the Covenant. If anyone else had called, and said they had the Ark, George would have chuckled and gone along with the joke. But he knew Hargrove, and Hargrove didn’t joke. Ever. So George had believed him.

The Deputy Director said that they were bringing the Ark to the NMA under armed guard. They wanted its condition evaluated and contents analyzed before showing it to the President. He said they hadn’t touched it, other than to open the crate it was in to do a visual identification. George was thankful to hear this. He had seen many priceless relics defaced at the hands of non-trained, overzealous field agents.

George had immediately asked Hargrove’s level of comfort on its authenticity and the Deputy’s response had reassured him. “FBI personal watched while the Ark was taken directly from its three thousand year old resting place in a pyramid, and at no time has it left the sight of my most trustworthy agent, the agent that found it, DJ Warrant.” George knew, even as the Deputy Chief spoke, he would date the artifact anyway.

George hung up the phone, pulse pounding, with images of the famous golden Ark running through his head. That was yesterday. Since then he had not slept. He had prepared his formal conference room in the basement of the NMA for the arrival. The government had spared no expense on the conference room, it was the best the Museum had to offer. George had personally overseen its construction several years ago. Mahogany walls, plush carpeting, huge conference table, and audio and video conference technology. But what really made the room perfect was the freight elevator that led directly from the receiving dock to the conference room. It had been built for just such occasions.

At nine o’clock sharp, the group assembled. DJ had been with the Ark since taking it from McAlister on the dusty Mexican road. He had ridden with it in the helicopter, then on the C-120 transport back to D.C., and last night he used it as a foot rest in a top-secret Pentagon warehouse in Virginia, at the edge of the Virginia, D.C. border.

DJ, at George’s direction, had his men position the crate on a heavyduty cart, in the center of the room, as close to the conference table as possible. The crate, dry, dusty and dilapidated, was a sharp contrast to the glossy mahogany table. George dialed up the surgical lights over the table, fully illuminating the crate that held the Ark. It was like a rock star, alone on stage: famous, yet enigmatic.

George had a buffet set up on the side of the room, but only about half the guests were using it. No one said so, but they were too nervous to drink or eat.

“Of course, sir. You’ll find everything over here.” George spun DJ around and graciously steered him to the coffee.
They chatted superficially, everyone’s thoughts on the Ark, until ten minutes after nine, when the energy in the room was too great to wait any longer. Deputy Chief Hargrove sat at the end of the table, with George on his right.
“Gentlemen,” Hargrove said, “I want to do quick introductions and then get about the business of looking at what we’ve got here and, of course, preparing it for the President tomorrow.”
Complete silence.
He paused and looked around the table, getting a few nods. Mainly he saw the eyes of nervous, expectant people, trying to look assured. “I, as you all know, am Deputy Chief Hargrove of the FBI. Our agenda this morning is as follows. I will introduce the government personnel, George Valmer will introduce his museum experts, and we will then open this crate and examine the Ark of the Covenant.” He looked around at mortally serious faces. Complete silence again.
“Our objective is to determine the condition of the Ark and its contents for the President of the United States. If everything goes smoothly this morning, I can tell you with certainty that the President himself will be in this very room tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. to view the Ark.”
Hargrove let the gravity of that statement sink in. Basically the President didn’t go anywhere if it wasn’t either a fantastic PR move, a fund raiser, or a matter of national security. In this case, it was the latter.
George spoke up with a question. “Chief Hargrove, has the President been notified that the Ark has been . . . found?”
“Yes. I briefed him yesterday, immediately after receiving DJ’s verbal report.” He smiled at DJ, the hero of the day.
“Do you know whether he plans to make any sort of
public
announcement regarding the fact that it’s been found?” He said the word public with singular disdain.
Hargrove smiled at the question, clearly understanding why George was a museum director and not a politician. “George, the unearthing of the Ark is a true national security emergency. If we announce to the public that we’ve found it, two very troublesome things would likely happen immediately. First, the economy would shut down because everyone would be in church. We’ve done studies on what happens to local economies when these images of Mary turn up. You remember, like the one in Florida a few years ago. Spending is cut by half. Economies tank.”
Hargrove looked around the room then continued, “Secondly, we’d have World War Three on our hands. Both Jews and Muslims would claim ownership and our entire foreign policy would be in jeopardy. If you hadn’t noticed, neither culture is fond of anyone else possessing one of their religious icons. They’ve waged wars over much, much less. No sir, that’s not what the President needs right now. He needs allies, not enemies. We have to keep a lid on this gentlemen.
A tight lid
! I hope that answers your question, George. We
cannot
make an announcement in the near term. This is the kind of thing you have to build the public up to slowly. A story has to be built around it, with heroes and villains. The public, and the world, must be told exactly what to think. They cannot be left to their own devices.”
Hargrove did not mention the fact that Moses had lied and that it was likely that the Hebrew words on these tablets would not match the widely accepted Ten Commandments. There was no reason to tell everyone in the room. His argument for keeping them secure was strong enough without disclosing that fact, plus there was always the inherent danger of a leak.
“Now, let’s roll through introductions.” Hargrove went on to introduce two of the most powerful men in the country. “On my left, you all know the Secretary of State, Dick Almond. On his left, the Secretary of Defense, John Churchill. Next to John there is DJ Warrant, our top field man. The man who found the Ark for us. DJ will retire on this one. Right, Deej?”
DJ nodded, now sure that his retirement lay in the box next to the table. When the attention shifted, he could be seen smiling a little, thinking about his full pension, including the sizable retirement bonus promised at the successful conclusion of this case.
“Dick, John, DJ, this is Director George Valmer. He runs the NMA, and George, why don’t you introduce the two gentleman you’ve invited today?”
George nodded at the members of the Cabinet. “Pleasure to meet you. On my right here is Dr. Mark Nelson. Mark is one of the foremost Egyptologists in the world.” But he didn’t find the Ark, DJ thought to himself. McAlister did.
“And next to Dr. Nelson is Dr. Carl Stevens. Dr. Stevens is an expert in Biblical Historical studies. There is no one who knows more about biblical history, and the field of biblical artifacts, than Dr. Stevens. I am honored to have them both here today. Together, they create the perfect team for the analysis you have requested. You can be assured that their analysis of the artifact will be irreproachable.”
Finally, with introductions complete, Hargrove said, “All right, then, let’s get to it. Let’s open the box!”
DJ was sweating now. He wished he’d taken a better look at the contents. He’d been instructed not to touch or tamper with what he found. True, it would have been difficult to disassemble the massive, 3000-year old wooden crate, but it would have saved him the terrible heartburn he was experiencing as the two archeologists stood up to begin their work. He told himself to stop worrying! He had been there when Thomas extracted it.
First Dr. Nelson and Dr. Stevens rolled the cart away from the table a few feet so they could stand on either side of it and work. The Ark was in a crate made of old timbers that looked as though they could easily be pulled off with use of the special tools the two men had laid out on the conference table. With rubber gloves on, the two experts began to gently pry the top off the crate. After five minutes of slow, even, deliberate prying, the top was ready to lift off.
The two men were visibly excited. Dr. Nelson paused to clear his throat. “We are going to place each piece we remove on the artifact table we’ve set up in the corner of the room. Later today, we will begin the dating process.”
George threw a questioning glance at Hargrove, who nodded his approval.
The two experts then slowly, ever so gently, removed the lid of the crate, carried it over to the table in the corner, and set it down. They hurriedly returned to the box and, both, for the first time, looked down into the crate.
Immediately, Dr. Stevens passed out. DJ and Dr. Nelson caught him before he hit the floor and laid him gently on the soft wool carpet. No one attended to him and both Dr. Nelson and DJ went back to the table to look inside at the Ark. The others watched as the two men peered down into the crate.
The color of gold reflected off their faces. Dr. Nelson’s face lit up with excitement, like a ten-year old who had been given a pocket knife.
“My God! It’s marvelous! It looks just as the Bible says it should!” He started to reach down into the crate to touch it.
“Don’t touch!” Nelson quickly pulled his hand back as Deputy Chief Hargrove sprang up from the end of the table and pushed him away from the crate.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Doctor, but please do not touch anything until we have all seen it. I don’t need to remind you that it is the property of the United States government.”
Dr. Nelson looked up at him, still in a trance-like state. It was unfathomable to him that he was seeing the biblical icon he had studied so extensively.
Hargrove patted his back. “You’re doing fine. Please continue with the crate. You were going to remove the sides next?”
Dr. Stevens was coming to. DJ threw some water on him.
After Stevens fully recovered, the two historians worked together and, in twenty minutes, they had the top half of the crate dismantled. The top half of the Ark was visible and everyone could see the lid of the Ark with its two golden cherubs facing each other. Now, able to see the treasure, the normally reserved government officials became excited and occasionally nodded or smiled at Valmer. He felt his personal stock rise each time they did so.
The experts continued dismantling the dusty crate, plank by plank, until the entire Ark of the Covenant was exposed. Everyone was transfixed. Ever the observer, DJ looked around. The full view of the Ark had everyone paralyzed. Hargrove, Almond, Churchill, Valmer: all of them catatonic. He wanted to retire. Now. And he wanted a cold beer, but it was too early in the morning.
Dr. Nelson and Dr. Stevens stepped away from the Ark. “Take a closer look,” Stevens said to George Valmer. He rubbed his hands together. “It looks exactly like what is described in the Bible, Exodus 37. Down to the rings on the corners for the carrying poles.”
Dr. Nelson had made a trip to the artifact table and come back with some sort of chemical testing kit. He looked at Deputy Chief Hargrove. “At this time, we need to conduct a simple test, to authenticate the gold. Okay?”
“Open it first.” Hargrove replied.
Dr. Stevens objected. “Deputy Hargrove, there are standards . . . tests that only take . . . .”
“
Open it now
!” Hargrove demanded, his face red, final. “Open it, let us see what’s inside, then do your test as we examine the contents. If it’s the tablets, put them over on the artifact table. That way we can look at them while you run your tests.”
The professors shrugged, then nodded. They first tried to lift the lid by hand, but they were unable to budge it. They examined every inch of the lid with their eyes and gloved fingers, looking for a hidden latch. Next they picked up their prying tools and nervously, gently, positioned them in between the lid of the Ark and the body.
Hargrove settled down and observed their work. Clearly they were experienced. They worked well together, slowly sliding the prying tools around the lid to ensure it was loose before trying to pry it up.
Finally, they were ready to pry the first corner up, but Dr. Stevens paused. “I have been thinking, these last few minutes, of a verse of Scripture—”
“Oh, don’t tell me it’s First Samuel 6:19!” DJ barked the reference, before the scholar could quote it. “I certainly hope you’re not going to try to scare everyone into thinking we can’t open it, Doctor.”
“What are you talking about?” Dick Almond asked.
“The Bible says God killed seventy men for daring to look into the Ark. Doctor Stevens is about to say that he thinks we could all be in danger if we open the Ark.”
Almond adjusted his glasses with nervous fingers. He wished he hadn’t asked. “Hmm. That was then, of course. This is now. Don’t you think, John?” The Secretary of Defense nodded. He wasn’t religious.
“History is history.” Hargrove said. “Let’s move forward, gentlemen.”
George Valmer had been whispering with his two experts and they returned to the work of getting the lid off. Dr. Stevens placed the sharp edge of a small pry bar under the lip of the lid and began to slowly lower the handle, forcing the lid up. He moved to another area and then to another. He was careful to apply only slight pressure to each area. Since the box was covered in gold, as the Bible described, there was the distinct danger of causing indentations. Gold is a soft metal, which is why craftsmen use only a ten or fourteen carat gold mixture for objects that receive daily use. Hargrove had not let them test this gold, so they did not know whether it was hard or soft.
As Stevens went around, he became more confident. The gold was holding up well, and seemed to be hard enough for him to begin to pry a little harder. He began his second round, and then it happened!
Crack
!
Everyone jumped. The perfect silence was interrupted. A two inch long chunk of the Ark flew up into the air and landed on the table, bouncing once before it skittered another couple of inches.
No one moved. People sucked in their breath
. Had they broken the Ark? Was God warning them
?
Was the Ark a time bomb getting ready to blow them all up
? They looked at the gold piece, then at Dr. Stevens. The tool in his left hand was shaking. In silence, he slowly reached for the piece of the Ark sitting on the table. Everyone watched, frozen.
With a rubber gloved hand he picked it up, looked at it and smiled. “It’s just a small broken piece of wood. Easily restored.” Tension evaporated. Smiles were exchanged.
As Hargrove was saying something to George about myths and magic, DJ watched Dr. Stevens’ face as he further examined the piece that had come off of the Ark.
First his face was inquisitive. Then it changed. He began to look worried. As the volume of chatter in the room rose to a new height, DJ became aware that there was something terribly wrong. Dr. Stevens’ face registered terror.
Someone was starting to tell a joke when DJ said, “Doctor, what’s wrong?”
No one had heard him, including the doctor who was now pale and shaking visibly.
DJ said it much louder, too loud. “Doctor. What is wrong with you?” Everyone stopped. They looked at DJ, then at the Doctor.
He was turning the piece over and then back, over and then back, looking at both sides. Then he looked at the Ark itself.
They all saw it at the same time. The area where the piece had been was bright yellow. The real Ark had been made of acacia wood, a dark wood, that would have gotten even darker with the passage of time. But this wood was yellow.
New. New wood!
DJ grew purple with rage. He instantly knew that he was looking at newly milled
pine
. There was no wood in the world that looked quite as bright, quite as yellow, as newly milled pine. And there was not a person in the room who didn’t know what that meant. This Ark was a fake.
Dr. Stevens said, “It’s a fake!” and handed the piece of wood to Dr. Nelson. “Paint! Gold paint! This isn’t the Ark of the Covenant. It’s only a decent copy. Designed to fool the unknowing.” His eyes came to rest on DJ.
All eyes, Hargrove’s in particular, were on DJ.
DJ felt guilty without knowing why. He said, “I saw Thomas McAlister take this Ark out of that pyramid! I saw it with my own two goddamn eyes, I tell you. I’ve been with this box since we took it from him!”
“You took this from
Thomas McAlister
? The
Egyptologist
?” Mark Nelson’s mouth dropped open.
George Valmer asked, “Could McAlister have faked it?”
Then, importantly, Deputy Chief Hargrove asked, “DJ, can any of your men verify that this is the same box you took from McAlister?”