entering it.
Talli threw her gaze to the ceiling as she waited. She whispered, ‘You never know what the Security Service is going to do next here.’
I was dealt with first. The older looking of the two officers held her hand out. ‘ID?’ She said. I gave her my passport.
She couldn’t have been much older than me, maybe a year of two, no more than forty for sure, and she was attractive. She had thick brown hair, big soft eyes, glowing skin, and an authoritative manner. She stood with her legs wide apart and her head back, as if she might bellow a command at me at any point.
‘What were you doing in this hotel?’ Her accent was soft.
‘We were visiting with a friend.’
‘Someone staying here?’ She was holding my passport, leafing through it slowly. She stopped on a page, brought it close to her face to examine it.
‘No, someone having a meeting here.’
‘Who?’
‘Simon Marcus, he’s upstairs.’
She snapped my passport shut and put it in the top pocket of her shirt.
‘I need that,’ I said.
‘How do you know Simon Marcus?’ The other policewoman was waving someone else through. Isabel was behind me.
‘He’s a professor. He knows a friend of mine. We were introduced a few hours ago.’
‘You are here to help him with his work?’ She was looking at me as if I was a conspirator, hiding something.
‘No. I’m not here to help him.’
‘Will you be staying in Jerusalem for much longer?’ It crossed my mind that she was actually saying I should leave Israel.
‘A few more days. We’ll be here less than a week. Why do you ask?’
She stepped back, looked me up and down. It appeared as if she was debating whether to arrest me or answer my question.
‘We have a lot of security troubles here in Jerusalem, Dr Ryan. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to one of our distinguished guests.’
She pointed at some high-backed chairs nearby.
‘Wait here. Do not go away.’ She turned, strode out through the glass doors, heading towards a police jeep that was pulled up outside. I moved towards the chairs, but I didn’t sit down. I stared after her. The jeep had darkened windows.
What the hell was she doing? I looked around. Two more men who looked like security guards were standing by the lifts. They were staring in my direction.
13
It was 5 p.m. in London. Henry was preparing to leave the office. He was back on normal hours, as his wife called them. He would be joining the crowds surging through Westminster Underground station in a few minutes.
Then a ping sounded from his workstation computer. It was a warning that a priority email had come in. He clicked through to the contents.
REQUEST: 3487686/TRTT
STATUS: CLOSED/EXCEPT: LEVEL 7
CASE: 87687658765-65436
No further information can be provided on the manuscript you requested.
He read the email twice. It gave nothing away. He knew from experience that no further response would be provided to any additional requests he made on the matter. Information on an item that was only available to Level 7 personnel would not be accessible to him. He was lucky he’d received even this response.
What intrigued him about it all was why an ancient manuscript , the one Sean Ryan and Isabel Sharp had discovered in Istanbul, would now be subject to such a restriction.
As he made his way out to the Underground platform heading north he thought about what could be in the document that was so important.
14
The policewoman had opened the back door of the police vehicle and climbed inside. I imagined her examining my passport in detail, photographing it maybe, or putting it through a computer check, but she could have been doing anything beyond those darkened windows.
‘What did she say to you?’ Isabel was beside me.
The other policewoman was checking people and keeping an eye on me. She needn’t have bothered. I wasn’t going to go anywhere without my passport.
‘She wanted to know if I was helping Simon. I got the impression she knew all
Talli threw her gaze to the ceiling as she waited. She whispered, ‘You never know what the Security Service is going to do next here.’
I was dealt with first. The older looking of the two officers held her hand out. ‘ID?’ She said. I gave her my passport.
She couldn’t have been much older than me, maybe a year of two, no more than forty for sure, and she was attractive. She had thick brown hair, big soft eyes, glowing skin, and an authoritative manner. She stood with her legs wide apart and her head back, as if she might bellow a command at me at any point.
‘What were you doing in this hotel?’ Her accent was soft.
‘We were visiting with a friend.’
‘Someone staying here?’ She was holding my passport, leafing through it slowly. She stopped on a page, brought it close to her face to examine it.
‘No, someone having a meeting here.’
‘Who?’
‘Simon Marcus, he’s upstairs.’
She snapped my passport shut and put it in the top pocket of her shirt.
‘I need that,’ I said.
‘How do you know Simon Marcus?’ The other policewoman was waving someone else through. Isabel was behind me.
‘He’s a professor. He knows a friend of mine. We were introduced a few hours ago.’
‘You are here to help him with his work?’ She was looking at me as if I was a conspirator, hiding something.
‘No. I’m not here to help him.’
‘Will you be staying in Jerusalem for much longer?’ It crossed my mind that she was actually saying I should leave Israel.
‘A few more days. We’ll be here less than a week. Why do you ask?’
She stepped back, looked me up and down. It appeared as if she was debating whether to arrest me or answer my question.
‘We have a lot of security troubles here in Jerusalem, Dr Ryan. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to one of our distinguished guests.’
She pointed at some high-backed chairs nearby.
‘Wait here. Do not go away.’ She turned, strode out through the glass doors, heading towards a police jeep that was pulled up outside. I moved towards the chairs, but I didn’t sit down. I stared after her. The jeep had darkened windows.
What the hell was she doing? I looked around. Two more men who looked like security guards were standing by the lifts. They were staring in my direction.
13
It was 5 p.m. in London. Henry was preparing to leave the office. He was back on normal hours, as his wife called them. He would be joining the crowds surging through Westminster Underground station in a few minutes.
Then a ping sounded from his workstation computer. It was a warning that a priority email had come in. He clicked through to the contents.
REQUEST: 3487686/TRTT
STATUS: CLOSED/EXCEPT: LEVEL 7
CASE: 87687658765-65436
No further information can be provided on the manuscript you requested.
He read the email twice. It gave nothing away. He knew from experience that no further response would be provided to any additional requests he made on the matter. Information on an item that was only available to Level 7 personnel would not be accessible to him. He was lucky he’d received even this response.
What intrigued him about it all was why an ancient manuscript , the one Sean Ryan and Isabel Sharp had discovered in Istanbul, would now be subject to such a restriction.
As he made his way out to the Underground platform heading north he thought about what could be in the document that was so important.
14
The policewoman had opened the back door of the police vehicle and climbed inside. I imagined her examining my passport in detail, photographing it maybe, or putting it through a computer check, but she could have been doing anything beyond those darkened windows.
‘What did she say to you?’ Isabel was beside me.
The other policewoman was checking people and keeping an eye on me. She needn’t have bothered. I wasn’t going to go anywhere without my passport.
‘She wanted to know if I was helping Simon. I got the impression she knew all
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