The Sacred Cipher (34 page)

Popping in pieces of melon as her punctuation points, Kallie attacked Dr. Johnson’s
question.

“Even though they are linked now, Warren’s Gate and the Western Wall Tunnel are two
different stories with two different histories,” Kallie explained. “I’ll try to give
you the condensed version, but if my passion begins to overwhelm our time, just give
me a wave.

“So, you know some things about Warren, but,” she said, pointing with her fork, “did
you know he was suspected of being ‘Jack the Ripper’?” That stopped everyone at the
table, cups in mid-delivery, food spared the final spearing. “Weird, eh? After stirring
up all his controversy here, Warren returned to London and became the city’s police
commissioner. He was one of the key investigators during Jack the Ripper’s bloodletting,
and when the murders continued and no viable suspect turned up, rumors and speculation
became more vocal that someone
on the inside
or someone with
privilege
was the Ripper and was being protected by the police. Some thought the Ripper was
a member of the royal family. Other speculation was that it was one of the investigating
detectives, perhaps the commissioner himself. Of course, we still don’t know.”

Kallie took a moment, resuming her attack on the fruit salad. Seizing the break, Johnson
stepped in to get back on point. “But how did Warren get such unfettered access to
make all the finds that are attributed to him?”

“In 1897, Warren and his associate Charles Wilson gained the approval of the Muslim
Authority to embark on a series of exploratory digs in the areas around the exteriors
of where the Temple Mount walls were surmised to exist. Warren was a lieutenant in
the Royal Engineers and a member of London’s Palestine Exploration Fund. Leading a
team of engineers and with financing from the PEF, Warren and Wilson began exploring
along the walls of the Mount.

“He discovered a series of tunnels beneath Jerusalem and the Temple Mount, some of
which were directly underneath the headquarters of the Knights Templar. Various small
artifacts were found which indicated that the Templar order had used some of the tunnels,
though it is unclear who exactly first dug them. Some of the ruins that Warren discovered
came from centuries earlier, and other tunnels that his team discovered had evidently
been used for a water system, as they led to a series of cisterns. On one of his nightly
forays, Warren uncovered what was a small, stone archway with a lintel. It was clearly
an entrance, or exit, for something, but the archway had been sealed shut with stones
and mortar.

“What has since become known as Warren’s Gate is shrouded by legend and surrounded
by mystery.” Kallie abruptly stopped her breakfasting. “Most archaeologists and temple
experts believe there is a high probability that Warren’s Gate is just outside the
location where the Holy of Holies from Herod’s Temple would have been located. The
Holy of Holies, or most inner court of the Temple, was home to the Ark of the Covenant,
which held the stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments; a container of manna;
and the staff of Aaron, which budded before Pharaoh. Also in the Holy of Holies was
the mercy seat, the location where the Jews believed the glory of God, his presence,
resided. Only one person, the Israeli high priest, was allowed to enter the Holy of
Holies, and that was only once a year. If you believed that, then Warren’s Gate was
the closest you could get to God on this earth.”

“Dangerous stuff in this neighborhood,” Rizzo chirped, finishing off the remnants
of his oatmeal.

“That’s for sure,” Kallie resumed. “Warren’s Gate became a lightning rod for conflict.
Tradition claims the Muslims, when they gained control of the Mount, flooded a cistern
that is supposedly on the other side of the gate, to keep anyone from gaining access
to the Holy of Holies.”

The others finished their breakfast much sooner than Kallie, so she waited while a
waiter cleared the table and then jumped into story number two.

“For over one hundred years, the only way to reach Warren’s Gate was through a narrow
shaft, and access to the shaft was severely regulated. But in 1967, the Israeli Ministry
of Religious Affairs approved an archaeological dig that took twenty years and uncovered
the foundations of the Western Wall for hundreds of yards to the north of the Wailing
Wall. Ignoring the impassioned complaints of the Muslim Authority, the Israelis carved
out this tunnel to follow the path along the wall. In 1996, Prime Minister Netanyahu
ordered that an exit for the tunnel be cut from the Struthion Pool out into the Via
Dolorosa. The Western Wall Tunnel now gives everyone access to some of the most fascinating
historical locations in the Old City, including Warren’s Gate and a series of massive
Herodian foundation stones for the walls upon which the Temple Mount platform was
constructed. These foundation stones had not been seen for nearly two thousand years.”

Each had gotten the obligatory small cup of sweet diesel fuel the Israelis call coffee
and sat quietly for a moment, waiting for it to cool.

“Devout Israelis have someone sitting in front of Warren’s Gate, praying, twenty-four
hours a day,” said Kallie. Bohannon saw her glance up at him, then look at Dr. Johnson.
“So, if you were thinking of using Warren’s Gate to get under the Temple Mount, you
can forget that option. You’ve got to look for another way in.”

The twinkle in Kallie’s eyes indicated that she knew she had guessed correctly.

Bohannon shot an accusing look at Rizzo.

“Hey, I didn’t say a thing,” Rizzo objected, rattling his chair with his denial. “Tell
them, Kallie. I’m not a rat.”

Kallie’s smile was encyclopedic. It exonerated Rizzo, defended her honor, and acknowledged
the depth of her insightful wisdom, all without a word. “Sammy didn’t reveal your
secrets,” she said. “I can put two and two together . . . Warren’s Gate and the cave-exploring
equipment that was waiting for you at Tzuba.”

A thoughtful, appreciative smile creased Bohannon’s cheeks. “I can see why Sammy is
smitten with you, Kallie. Doc, why don’t you fill in our new teammate. Let her know
what brings us to Jerusalem.”

Twenty minutes later, they were in Kallie’s modern apartment in a high-rise building
on Bar-Lev Road, across the road from the Ammunition Hill national memorial and not
far from Hebrew University, where she was completing her studies. As the temperature
rose on the Crowne Plaza terrace and the intensity of the conversation grew, Kallie
had suggested a change in venue. She was proud of her apartment. It was bright, sunny,
and full of graceful touches that held deep meaning for her . . . the decorative,
metal, mini Eiffel Tower that reminded her of her favorite city on earth; a framed
print of Prague’s Charles Bridge at sunrise; and dozens of framed, family photos.
She loved her family with a granite-hard passion that fueled her.

She grabbed a pitcher of iced tea and plunked it on the glass-topped coffee table
along with some sturdy glass tumblers. But Kallie wanted to get down to business and
wasn’t thinking of entertaining etiquette. While they were in the restaurant, she
had to fight to keep from screaming at these knuckleheads as they unwrapped their
incredible story.

At one point, Johnson, seeing the emotional outburst brimming just under the surface,
had reached out and placed his hand on her arm. “Not here, Kallie,” he had whispered.
“I know . . . I know. Take a breath. Hold on.”

Somehow, she made it through their story and had gotten out of the hotel without exploding.
On the twenty-minute drive to her apartment, she remained silent, sifting the amazing
story, stifling her anger at not being completely informed earlier, and measuring
the apprehension that was growing in her heart. Now she could wait no longer; she
had too much to say.

“First of all, I am really ticked off at you guys for keeping this from me. I know,”
she said, warding off Johnson’s attempt to explain, “I know you didn’t want to put
me in danger. Don’t you know how ridiculous that is? Anyone who chooses to live in
Jerusalem, almost anywhere in Israel, does it with the knowledge and acceptance that
danger is a reality of daily life. I could be picking out peppers in the market, sitting
in class, or just walking down the street, and a random suicide bomber could snuff
out my life. So that’s a bogus excuse.

“Second, I’m really ticked off at you because you don’t know how foolish you are and
how your foolishness could have already put me in danger.”

Kallie looked at their innocent, questioning eyes, and some of her frustration escaped
into the afternoon.
They weren’t stupid
, she thought,
just ignorant
. But whether ignorant or stupid, they had placed themselves in the crosshairs of
Middle East conflict and, by arriving in Jerusalem with their avowed purpose, were
inviting, almost requiring, an obligation on both sides to wipe them out. An obligation
that would now extend to her if either side discovered the real purpose for the investigation
and research she had undertaken for them over the past few months.

“Look, what you have just told me is a death warrant. Each one of you,” she said,
deliberately pointing her finger at each, “is a dead man. And you pulled me into this
without understanding the risk. I’m not talking about the guys with the lightning
bolt crosses, that’s a whole different issue. What I’m saying is neither the Arabs
nor the Israelis can allow you to leave this country alive. If they knew what you
were planning, they wouldn’t allow us to live through the night. Dr. Johnson, I’m
surprised that you, at least, didn’t understand the reality of the situation here
in Israel and what your intentions would stir up.”

Unwilling to wait for an excuse or to give anyone else the floor, Kallie picked up
her glass and her warning at the same time.

“To begin with, you are never going to get permission to dig anywhere on the Temple
Mount. Excavating in Israel requires a license from the Department of Antiquities,
which is granted only after very serious reviews of credentials, monetary and scholarly
backing, and an approved site. All excavations must meet with the approval of the
department. But that doesn’t help you at all because excavations cannot, under any
circumstances, be carried out under or upon Temple Mount. Near the Mount is also problematic.
Only one area is approved for exploration, the Jerusalem Archaeological Park, just
to the south of the Temple Mount, and that area is already under the full authority
of Israeli archaeologists.

“Did you really think that a group of Americans with some bags full of equipment could
wander around the Temple Mount without raising any suspicion? The Temple Mount is
under an intense amount of surveillance, day and night, and that includes all of the
areas immediately around the Temple Mount. Don’t you think the Israelis and the Muslim
Authority haven’t considered the possibility of intruders on the Temple Mount for
any number of reasons? Don’t you think they both understand the intense emotional
upheaval that will ensue if anything broaches the delicate and precarious balance
of power? The Israelis have already experienced the street riots that erupted on the
basis of rumors. How did you think they were going to respond once they discovered
your plan to poke around under the Temple Mount? It’s impossible. Neither side can
allow that to happen.

“Listen to me, Palestinians don’t exactly love Americans to begin with, but the four
of you start investigating access points to the base of the Temple Mount and the Palestinians
will immediately come to one conclusion: that you are planning to undermine the Haram
al-Sharif—the Noble Sanctuary, containing the Dome of the Rock. That, for whatever
reason, you intend to collapse the holy mosque. To the Western mind, this is a true
overreaction. To the Middle Eastern Muslim, this is a natural and automatic conclusion.

“Alarms would be going off all over the place. The Waqf, both in Jerusalem and in
Amman, Jordan, will approach Israeli authorities, demanding explanations, promises,
and guarantees. The Islamic Movement, a group of radical Israeli Arabs, will once
again sound the cry that ‘Al-Aqsa is in danger!’ There will be riots atop the Mount,
stone-throwing youths, angry Jerusalemite Palestinians. Word will sweep across the
Arab world in minutes with cries for help and threats of war.”

Stabbing into the brief space when Kallie took a breath, Johnson asked, “Are you talking
about Hamas or Fattah?”

Shaking her head and her strawberry curls, Kallie dismissed the question with a backhand
wave. “Hamas would not be in the picture. Their base is in Gaza and Ramallah, and
access to Jerusalem is denied and cut off. Fattah, after their near civil war with
Hamas, is relegated to the West Bank, and they have been severely weakened. Both will
threaten and gesture, but this holds little weight in Jerusalem. What you will have
to worry about are the local Jerusalemite Arabs. They have access, and they will use
it. They are not very well organized, but there is a dangerous splinter organization
of the Northern Islamic Front—En Sherif—that comes from Umm El Fahum, the headquarters.
They do have contacts in east Jerusalem and are very radical in their paranoia over
Jewish designs on the Temple Mount. If the Northern Front ever got a sense of what
you were trying to prove, they would exercise no reluctance in slitting your throats.