The Boudicca Parchments

Chapter 4

Martin I Costa.

Daniel Klein remembered the name all too well. But it was a name that he would rather forget. He had crossed paths with Costa more than once. And every time, his opinion of Costa had diminished a little more.

Martin Ignatius Costa had started out legitimate enough. He had been an Associate Professor of Theology at Cambridge, with a strong interest in archaeology. But he also had a gambling habit that had proved something of a drain on his academician’s salary. So he had taken the expedient solution of augmenting that income by doing a little business on the side, forging historical artefacts and “discovering” them at dig sites. He didn’t, at this stage, try to sell them privately. He confined himself to cashing in on the prestige of their discovery and writing paid articles in the popular press.

Unfortunately this line of business could only carry him so far and at a certain point he over-reached himself and committed the cardinal sin of getting found out. That pretty much put the kibosh on his academic career. Sacked in disgrace, he was, quite naturally, blacklisted by the rest of the academic community, and found himself with no income but with a mountain of debt that was growing by the day.

A lucky win at the racetrack enabled him to clear the decks regarding his debt and for a while he was able to supported himself as a lowly tour guide, giving guided tours of famous historical sites. But the lure of the nags and the roulette wheel proved too much for him and he found himself once again lapsing into debt, this time supporting it by a lucrative trade in stolen artefacts and Romano-British treasure found on other people’s land and removed without the landowners knowledge or consent.

He steered clear of forgery, because if he got caught — even once — it would destroy his reputation amongst the clients of stolen artefacts. It was enough that he had to convince them to ignore his unceremonious dismissal from academia. At least on that occasion he had avoided a criminal conviction. If he now got busted for forgery, he would never again be trusted when he tried to sell stolen items to rich corrupt collectors, or to claim insurance reward money.

There might be no honour among thieves, but there was certainly a keen sense of self-preservation.

Over the years, Daniel had had various brushes with Martin I Costa. A couple of times, Costa had come into possession of items stolen from digs that Daniel was working on. On one occasion, Daniel had even been implicated as an accomplice. In the end, Daniel had managed to clear his name. But the bitter after-taste of the experience had left him wary of coming into any sort of contact with Costa. He wasn’t afraid of Costa, except in the sense that a man might be afraid of fleas. But as fleas go, Costa was particularly irritating.

So why had Costa contacted him now? And what was this picture that he had sent him?

Daniel had been ready to ask Costa straight out if the call had got through. But he wasn’t prepared to talk to a machine. If Costa wanted to talk, it was up to him to make himself available. Daniel wasn’t going to chase him.

But something about this image fascinated him. And he did not know why.

It was not clear enough for him to make out the content. But there was something about it that suggested that he shouldn’t ignore it. So he uploaded it to his Cloud account, to make sure that it was properly and adequately backed up and also to ensure that he could access it from anywhere in the world.

But at the back of his mind, he was wondering why Costa had sent it to him. He was still wondering when he got a text from Costa.

“Low on credit and juice. Did you get the picture?”

That was no doubt why he hadn’t answered the phone. Daniel felt like telling Costa to get lost. But it was hard to do that when his curiosity was aroused. So instead, he replied:

“Yes Costa. What is it?”

The reply came two minutes later.

“Need to meet you. Will tell you then.”

Daniel wasn’t going to be pressured into any meetings. He was not going to play the role of Martin Costa’s puppet — dancing to his tune. But the fact that Costa was anxious, gave Daniel at least the opportunity to probe a little further. He texted back.

“Is it a manuscript?”

This time the reply came even more quickly.

“Yes. Can you come to Ashwell tomorrow morning.”

The guy was a complete pain in the ass.

But then again, Costa had no way of knowing how far away Daniel was. He probably assumed that Daniel was in London. Not that Daniel was inclined to come running just because Costa wanted to meet him, even if he had been in London. Again Daniel texted back quickly.

“Am in America. What is the manuscript and why is it so important for you to meet me?”

An eternity seemed to go by, leading Daniel to believe that he succeeded in giving Costa the brush off. He didn’t know whether to feel regretful or relieved. On the one hand, Costa was a source of trouble and irritation to more or less everyone he came into contact with. On the other hand, there was still that enigmatic, blurred picture of a manuscript. And Daniel wanted to know more.

Just when he had convinced himself that it would be all for the best if Costa took the hint and dropped the matter, another text message came through.

“The manuscript is from a site in England. But look at the writing!”

Of course Daniel couldn’t look at the writing. It was too blurred. He debated asking Costa to send it again. But that would show weakness. On the other hand, how did he know that there was anything in the writing worth seeing? At the moment he only had Costa’s word for that. And Costa’s word didn’t count for much in Daniel’s books.

No, the way Daniel saw it, if Martin Costa wanted to meet him, then it was up to Costa to persuade him. And so far, all he had offered was a blurred manuscript. Daniel decided to lay his cards on the table.

“Picture too blurred couldn’t read a thing.”

He expected Costa to resend the picture. Instead all that came through was a message that chilled Alex to the bone.

“Why would a Romano-British site have a Hebrew manuscript?”

A Hebrew manuscript? In a Romano-British site?

Of course it all depended from what part of the Romano-British period. The period extended from the first to the fifth centuries. And in that time, Christianity had come to England from the Roman province of Judea. Most of the early Church writings were in Latin or Greek. But given the provenance of Christianity, it was not unreasonable that some of the very early writings were in Hebrew or Aramaic. And both languages were written with the Hebrew alphabet!

Could Costa have found an early Anglo-Christian manuscript written in Hebrew or Aramaic?

If he had, it would be something of a coup. For years scholars had speculated about the so-called Q Gospel — the hypothesized original gospel that supposedly supplied the material for Matthew and Luke that was missing from Mark. If such an early gospel existed, it would presumably have been written in one of the local languages of Judea — either Hebrew, the language in which they prayed and studied or Aramaic, the language of everyday speech. Even Mark’s gospel was believed to have been written first in Hebrew before being translated into Greek, even though there were no extant copies of it in Hebrew.

But maybe now there were.

Could Martin Costa have found an original gospel?

Forged one, more like, knowing Costa! And why would it be in England? Could it have been brought there to bring the word to the ancient Britons? A Latin translation would have been more useful. After all many of the Britons spoke Latin by this stage because their conquerors were Roman. And the more educated among them could surely read the language. It would make more sense to translate the gospel into Latin and then bring it to England.

Besides, how would Costa even know that it was Hebrew? His scholarship did not extend that far. He might recognize the alphabet, but he wouldn’t know Hebrew from Aramaic. Maybe it was Aramaic. Or maybe it was Hebrew. Either way, if it was found at a Romano-British site that would be interesting.

Of course Costa could be lying. But what if he was telling the truth? If Costa had found — as distinct from forged — such a manuscript, his only angle would be financial. He would need to have it validated and then sell it to the highest bidder. But to Daniel the value of any such manuscript inhered in the knowledge that it would provide, not its financial value to some wealthy dilettante. Daniel didn’t care who owned the manuscript. It was a valuable chattel, but still — at the end of the day — just a chattel. It was the knowledge that it contained that imparted value to it. And as long as that knowledge was able to enter the public domain, it didn’t matter to Daniel who owned the chattel.

But first, Daniel had to know if Costa was on the level. He texted back.

“Will be back in three days. Cannot meet you till Tuesday.”

This time the wait was long. At the table, the girls were getting fractious and Daniel knew that any minute now, Julia would send them over to him and he would have to give them his undivided attention. Just before that happened, Costa’s next message came through.

“Meet me at the Three Tuns pub in Ashwell, Herts on Tuesday at One O’clock. And make sure you’re not followed.”