else in the tomb?” A faint expression of hope.
“I don’t know for sure … but from the way the professor reacted I’m fairly certain—”
“I don’t think you should mention the stones to the police when they get here. Don’t conjecture about what was in the box.”
Malachai must have read the confusion in Josh’s eyes because he didn’t wait for his question before answering it. “If it appears that you know too much it will make you a more likely suspect.”
“But I’m not a suspect, and shouldn’t they know what they are looking for? Don’t they need to?”
“If they know, word will get out, it’s inevitable, and the very last thing Beryl or I—or, I’m sure, Gabriella, once she knows what happened—want is for the world to know of the existence of those stones. Especially if they’ve been stolen.”
“I don’t know. You’re asking me to lie to the police.”
“About something that isn’t going to help the investigation and that you didn’t actually see.”
“So what do I say—that I saw the guard and that I can describe him—but that I have no idea what he took? That I was too busy having flashbacks to the fourth century, where I was hanging out with the flesh-and-blood version of the corpse that’s buried here?”
Malachai was astonished. “If that’s true, you’d be instrumental to our understanding of what the stones are and how they work. You’d be vital to the solution.”
“Well, there are no coincidences, right? That’s what you and Beryl have been telling me for the past four months, and it looks like you’re dead on. The memories I’ve been having—” He held his arms out to include the tomb, the woods, the hills and beyond. “All of this … it’s what I’ve been seeing for the past year. All of this and more …”
Malachai began studying Josh, taking in his shirtless chest, dirt- and-blood-streaked face. “Are you sure you are all right? Your hands are bleeding.”
“It’s nothing but scratches. The professor is the one who’s been hurt, who might not make it.”
Usually, Malachai was compassionate, but from a distance. As a hobby, and to relax the children he and his aunt worked with at the Phoenix Foundation, Malachai performed magic tricks. One of them seemed to be how he suppressed his own feelings, except for a hidden, sorrowful look in Malachai’s eyes that Josh could see sometimes in just the right light, as if he had been hurt badly once and never quite healed. Josh often wondered whether, if he photographed the man, the melancholy would show through. But now, for the first time, he was overwrought and distressed. “This is a tragedy. A real tragedy.”
And for a brief moment, before Josh realized how absurd the thought was, he wondered if Malachai was referring to the professor’s shooting or the theft of the stones.
Chapter 12
As Josh looked for Gabriella, to give her the professor’s message, the crowd of bystanders grew larger. Josh remembered what Rudolfo had said about the dig becoming a tourist attraction. He looked at his watch. It was 9:00 a.m. Right on cue. The crime scene was going to be contaminated if these people trampled on it. The police still weren’t there to stop them. Shouldn’t they have arrived on the heels of the ambulance? Someone needed to keep the crowds back.
Scanning the gathering, he noticed a trio of nuns, two priests, a group of teenage Goth girls and a tall man holding a pad and pencil talking to one of the nuns. He had thick hair that fell into his eyes, and he brushed it away in a gesture that Josh recognized. Charlie Billings always expressed his impatience like that. Josh was glad to see him—not just because he’d always liked the reporter, but because, having been on assignment with him here in Rome, he knew Charlie spoke fluent Italian.
As Josh made his way over to the reporter, pushing through the crowd, Malachai followed him as if he needed to keep him in sight to keep him safe.
They exchanged greetings, and then Charlie, assuming that Josh was there on assignment, asked who he was covering the story for.
“I’m not here as press, I was here as a guest of the professor. But listen, I need you to—”
“Wait a minute. Do you mean you were here during the shooting?”
Josh nodded, annoyed that he’d inadvertently made himself part of the story.
“Did you see who did this? Did you get a shot of him?” Charlie glanced at the ever-present camera around Josh’s neck.
“I’ll give you all that later, but first you need to help me. This is urgent. This crowd could make it impossible for the police to collect evidence if they get any closer to the area around the tomb. They could be trampling evidence now. I can’t speak Italian, you can. Would you talk to them and ask them to stay back?”
“How ‘bout I trade you. I’ll talk to them and you tell me something I can use. What happened down there?”
“C’mon Charlie—” Josh pointed “—look.” The Goth girls were starting to cross the field.
“Okay, but when I’m done, I’m going to find you.” He started off. “You owe me now,” he called out over his shoulder.
Malachai had stepped away while Josh was talking to Charlie, but now he came forward again. “Bastard.” He indicated the reporter. “But I suppose it’s inevitable the press would be here.”
“He’s okay. I know him from way back. If I play it straight with him, he won’t screw us. Listen, I still—”
Loud wailing interrupted as three police cars arrived and officers jumped out.
“The press is the least of our problems now,” Malachai said. “After they figure out who’s who, the police are going to want to question us. We need to work out what we’re going to say about being here. This is going to be an explosive story, and I don’t want the foundation to be part of it.”
Yet another siren sounded as the ambulance readied to take the professor to the hospital. Josh glanced over. Something was holding them up. Now Josh saw Gabriella, fighting to get into the ambulance with the stretcher. The female medic blocked her and then, when Gabriella didn’t back off, physically pushed her away. Gabriella stumbled backward, tripped and fell to the ground. Without looking back, the medic hurried into the ambulance and slammed the door as it took off.
“She needs help,” Josh said, and ran toward her.
Once he reached her side he knelt down next to her. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“They wouldn’t let me go with them.” She sat on the grass, eyes peeled on the vehicle as it disappeared.
“They didn’t have room.”
“But he’s alone,” she said, sounding dazed.
“He’s going to get the best care they can give him.” It was like talking to a child.
“Is he going to be all right?” She turned to Josh for the first time. As a photographer, he’d looked into thousands of anguished faces, but her pained expression ripped at him in an intensely personal way, which he couldn’t understand.
“I hope so,” he said. “Are you sure you’re okay, though? That was a tough fall.”
She didn’t seem to understand his question.
“You fell.”
She looked around, noticing where she was as if for the first time. Then, brushing off her hands, she stood up.
“I’m okay,” she said to Josh.
“You sure? You seemed pretty out of it there.” He handed her the knapsack she’d left on the ground, forgotten.
“I’m okay. I