Sign of the Cross(53)

‘He was forced to carry it to the stipes crucis, which was already planted in the ground.’

‘And what would that weigh?’

‘Twice as much as the patibulum.’

Dial noted the entire cross would’ve been too heavy for one man to carry. ‘Out of curiosity, why do artists show Christ carrying the whole cross instead of just a beam?’

‘Because it’s more dramatic that way. Even Mel Gibson used a whole cross for his film, though it would’ve been physically impossible for Christ to carry after his scourging. As it was, he fell three times on his way to Golgotha.’

‘That’s right! I forgot about that. And his hands were tied, right? So he wouldn’t have been able to break his fall. He would’ve gone face-first.’

‘Undoubtedly. In fact, many people use that fact to explain the facial disfigurement that appears on the Shroud of Turin. The image shows a clean break in the nose.’

Dial shook his head at the direction that his case was headed. Here he was in Libya, working on a twenty-first-century case, yet he was talking about the crucifixion, the Shroud of Turin, and Christ’s facial scars like they were relevant to his investigation. And the most amazing thing was that they were. Not only relevant but crucial. He’d finally found significance in Jansen’s broken nose. Maybe that wasn’t an accident. Maybe that was done to make him more like Christ.

‘Was there anything else, Nick? I’m in serious need of some nicotine.’

‘Just one last thing. What do you know about the history of crucifixions?’

Toulon licked the cigarette, trying to savor the taste. ‘Supposedly they were invented by the Persians, who passed them on to the Carthaginians, who passed them on to the Romans. Most people think they were invented by the Romans, but they’re simply the group who perfected it. They got so proficient at it that they used to bet on the exact time that someone would die, based on the weather, the victim’s age, and how much food he’d had. “Hang ’em high and stretch ’em wide,” they used to say. Then they’d put money on it.’

‘That seems so wrong.’

‘Maybe to you. But to them it was a necessary evil in an unfair world. The quickest and most effective way to solve their problems.’

Dial thought about Toulon’s comment, wondering if that’s what he was dealing with in his current case. And if so, what problems did these murders actually solve?

Later, Omar Tamher knocked on the door and peeked into the tiny room. He was expecting to see Nick Dial working at the desk, not pacing back and forth like a caged puma.

‘May I?’ Tamher asked, not wanting to interrupt. ‘I don’t mean to –’

‘No problem. I think better when I’m moving. Something about blood flow to my head.’

He nodded in understanding. ‘I think better with no shoes… Airflow between my toes.’

Dial glanced downward and noticed Tamher’s bare feet. ‘Interesting.’

Tamher laughed as he walked over to Dial’s bulletin board. ‘Whatever works, you know? Take your vertical scrapbook, for example. I could never use that here. Too many prying eyes.’

‘Coworkers?’

He shook his head. ‘Military.’

Dial didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

‘Will you be staying another day, Nick? If so, you’d be wise to take your materials to your hotel. There’s no telling what will be missing if you leave them overnight.’

Dial nodded, reading between the lines. His access was guaranteed by Interpol’s agreement with Libya, but that didn’t mean that he was welcome. ‘I appreciate the advice.’

This time it was Tamher who was silent.

‘Out of curiosity, if I were to leave tonight, would you be willing to keep me in the loop?’

He nodded. ‘As long as you’re willing to return the favor.’

‘You got it.’

Tamher wanted to tell him it wasn’t personal, that this was simply his way of protecting his new friend from the Libyan government. But Dial nodded his head in understanding. No explanation was needed. He was an American, and that made him the most loved/hated mammal in the world, depending on where he went and what day of the week it was.

That was one of the reasons that he kept his work on a portable bulletin board. It gave him flexibility and allowed him to leave on a moment’s notice. Just like he would later that night.





30


Dr Boyd knew Maria would eventually come back to the library. The thing that worried him, though, was her mental status when she arrived. He remembered how he felt when he initially translated the scroll – being the murderer of one’s own religion was not good for the soul – and he knew Maria had to be dealing with worse feelings since she was far more religious than he.