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He decided to offer nothing except, “They killed Brian Jamison. I was there when it happened.”
Nelle nodded. “We know. That means only you and your daughter can now provide us answers.”
“Did you find the Temple treasures?” the ambassador asked.
He nodded.
Her eyes went alive with anticipation. “They exist?”
He nodded again.
“Then I owe you that explanation,” she said.
That she did.
“I can publicly refute all that happened to you eight years ago. Some of the people who assisted in setting you up still exist within positions of power. Others we know about. You were not the only one they destroyed. But you were the first. They manufactured that story about Israeli settlers and Palestinians and created the sources. They fed it to you and your editors, then watched it all unravel. They were a team who became quite good at what they did. But that is not our way, Mr. Sagan. What they did to you was wrong.”
“And you waited eight years to tell me that?”
“I was not aware myself of what happened until your involvement in this matter became clear.”
“But others knew?”
She nodded. “They did, and their silence is shameful.”
He was not prepared to cut her any slack. “What did you do, play Simon in Prague?”
The ambassador nodded. “That was my assignment. To lead him on. Keep him moving forward. We wanted him to find that treasure. But of course, we didn’t want any violence associated with it.”
“Did Rabbi Berlinger know about you?”
She nodded. “I spoke to him. He understood the urgency and agreed to spur you along. He made sure you were listening when I spoke to Simon in the cemetery. That is why I twisted the conversation your way. I wanted you to know of my presence and what I knew about you.”
He recalled what she’d said when he confronted her on the street in Prague. “I’ve been expecting him.”
“You and Berlinger knew I’d go straight to you.”
“That was the idea. To keep you moving forward.”
“So you used me, too.”
“In a manner of speaking. But so much was at stake. As you heard, he wanted to start a war, and would have. Thousands would have died.”
“Which only involved me because you made it so.”
“What you may not know,” the ambassador said, “is that Rabbi Berlinger is dead. We think Simon killed him before leaving Prague.”
He was sorry to hear about the old man’s death. “You said you think Simon is dead? Is he?”
“Most likely,” Nelle said, “Rowe had him killed. But we’ll never know. All we know is he’s gone.”
“And I did manipulate Simon,” the ambassador said again. “I did this for our government, which came and specifically asked for my help. If Simon had been successful in his quest Israel could have been irrevocably harmed. If that meant I had to use you, then so be it.”
He was not interested in her justifications. “You understand that the Sephardi Jews who hid away the Temple treasure trusted its safety only to the Levite. Not to the state of Israel.”
“Those objects belong to every Jew. We will make sure they receive them, and not the war Simon wanted to start. As I said, we don’t need violence to incite a sense of security. There is a better way. It’s time for the violence to end.”
On that he agreed. He pointed at Nelle. “And I assume she’s here to stamp the U.S. government’s seal of approval on me telling you everything I know.”
“Something like that. You were set up, Mr. Sagan. A terrible thing. They ruined your career. That can be fixed.”
“And what if I don’t want it fixed?”
The question seemed to surprise them both.
“You lost everything,” the ambassador said.
He nodded. “That’s the point. It’s gone. Never to be reclaimed. My parents will never know. My ex-wife will never know. The people who called themselves my friends? I don’t give a rat’s ass if they know. It’s gone.”
He was shocked at himself, but the realization had become crystal clear in the cave while staring at the Temple treasure. What’s past is past. There was no undoing it. All that mattered was what lay ahead.
“A strange attitude from a man who took the beating you took,” Nelle said. “Your Pulitzer Prize could be restored. Your credibility regained. You wouldn’t have to ghostwrite novels anymore.”
He shrugged. “It’s not so bad. Pays good, and there’s no pressure.”
“So what are you going to do?” the ambassador asked.
After he and Alle had recrossed the lake and climbed from the cave, the Maroon, Frank Clarke, had waited for them. They’d watched as Béne Rowe and two other men led Simon across the river and back up to the road.
“What happens to this place now?” he asked Clarke.
“We will rebuild the dam and guard it, as we have. You are the Levite, so this is always yours. When that duty passes to the next, then we shall respect that person. What do you plan to do?”
He hadn’t answered Clarke because he truly did not know.
And he could not answer the woman now staring at him, either. So he simply said, “I’ll let you know what I decide.”
“You understand,” the ambassador said, “that no one will ever know the truth about you, unless you work with us.”
Her threat infuriated him, but anger was also a thing of the past. “You see, that’s the thing. It only matters that one person knows the truth.” He paused. “And you just told her.”
Alle stepped from the kitchen, where he’d sent her on seeing who his visitors were. He hadn’t known how far they would go with their comments, but he’d hoped.
“My father didn’t lie, did he?” she asked.
Neither woman said a word.
But their silence was more than enough of an answer.
They seemed to sense that the conversation was over and both headed for the door.
Before leaving, the ambassador turned back and said, “Be kind to us, Mr. Sagan. Think what those treasures would mean.”
Her plea did not impress him. “And you think about what almost happened, because of them.”
Tom and Alle stepped from the car and entered the cemetery outside Mount Dora. They’d driven from Orlando just after the two women left his house. The day was late, nearly five o’clock, the burial ground empty. A late-winter sun warmed chilly March air. Together they walked to his parents’ graves. For the first time in a long while he did not feel like he was intruding.
He stared at the two matsevahs.
“You did good on his marker,” he told her.
