The Genesis Secret

20

The Land Rover sped down the dirt track away from Sogmatar towards the main Sanliurfa road, twenty klicks alongside the ancient arroyo. Christine was staring ahead, concentrating on the road, her hand tight on the gearstick. They drove in silence.

Rob hadn’t told her what he thought he had discovered about the numbers. He wanted to prove it to himself first. And for that he needed a book, and maybe a computer.

By the time they arrived back in the city the sun was an hour from sunset and Sanliurfa was notably busy. As soon as they reached the centre they went straight to Christine’s flat, flung dusty jackets onto the wickerwork chair and flopped onto the sofa. And then Christine said, quite unexpectedly, and apropos of nothing, ‘Do you think I should fly home?’

‘What? Why?’

‘The dig is over. My salary stops in a month. I could fly home now.’

‘Without finding out what happened to Franz?’

‘Yes.’ She stared out of the window. ‘He is…dead. Shouldn’t I just accept it?’

The sun was dying outside. The muezzin were calling across the ancient city of Urfa. Rob got up, went to the window; creaked it open, and gazed out. The cucumber man was cycling down the pavement shouting his wares. Veiled women were in a group outside the Honda shop talking into mobile phones through their concealing black chadors. They looked like shades, like ghosts. The mourning brides of death.

He went back to the sofa and gazed at Christine. ’I don’t think you should go. Not yet.’

‘Why not?’

‘I think I know what the numbers mean.’

Her face was motionless. ‘Show me.’

‘Do you have a Bible? An English one?’

‘On that shelf.’

Rob paced to the shelf and checked the spines: art, poetry, politics, archaeology, history. More archaeology. There. He took down a big old black Bible. The proper authorized version.

At the same time Christine took Breitner’s notebook from the desk.

‘All right,’ said Rob. ‘I hope I’m right. I think I’m right. But here goes. Read out the numbers in the notebook. And tell me what they’re next to on the page.’

‘OK, here’s…twenty-eight. Next to a compass sign, for east.’

‘No, say it like the two numbers are separate. Two eight.’

Christine stared at Rob, perplexed. Maybe even amused. ‘OK. Two eight. By an arrow pointing east.’

Rob opened the Bible to Genesis, thumbed through the thin, almost translucent pages and found the right page. He ran his finger down the dense columns of text.

‘Chapter two, verse eight. 2:8 Genesis. “And the LORD God planted a garden eastward in Eden; and there he put the man whom he had formed”.’ Rob waited.

Christine was staring at the Bible. After a while she murmured, ‘Eastward in Eden?’

‘Read another one.’

Christine scanned the notebook. ‘Two nine. Next to the tree.’

Rob went to the same page in the Bible and recited, ‘Book of Genesis. Chapter two, verse nine. 2:9 “And out of the ground made the LORD God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil”.’

Christine said in a low voice, ‘Two one zero. Two ten. By the river squiggly thing.’

‘The line that turns into four rivers?’

‘Yes.’

Rob looked down at the Bible. ‘Chapter two, verse ten. “And a river went out of Eden to water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and became into four heads”.’

‘My God,’ said Christine. ‘You’re right!’

‘Let’s try one more, to make sure. A different one, one of the big numbers.’

Christine went back to the notebook. ‘OK. Here are some bigger numbers, at the end. Eleven thirty-one?’

Rob fanned through the pages and recited, feeling like a vicar in his pulpit, ‘Genesis. Chapter eleven, verse thirty-one. “And Terah took Abraham his son, and Lot the son of Haran his son’s son, and Sara his daughter in law, his son Abraham’s wife; and they went forth with them from Ur of the Chaldees, to go into the land of Canaan; and they came unto Haran, and dwelt there”.’

‘ Haran?’

‘ Haran.’ Rob paused, sitting down next to Christine. ‘Let’s try one more, one more of the others, one of the numbers next to a drawing.’

‘Here’s a number by a picture, seems to be a dog or a pig…or something.’

‘What’s the number?’

‘Two hundred and nineteen. So, two nineteen?’

Rob found the relevant passage: ‘“And out of the ground the LORD God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Adam to see what he would call them…”’

Quietness filled the flat. Rob could still hear the cries of the cucumber seller floating up from the dusty streets below. Christine gazed at him intently. ‘Breitner thought he was digging up-’

‘Yes. The Garden of Eden.’

They stared across the sofa at each other.