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volunteer’s lost car keys that a doctoral candidate had found in one of the grids the following day. 
    I waited until he was out of earshot of the students to ask my question aloud.  
    “Has anyone located a missing video camera – one with some slight wear and tear, perhaps?” 
    My attempt at humor escaped him and he continued to flip through the printouts, but eventually he concluded no one had found such a device – at least not yet. 
    Finally, he closed the binder and just stared at the sky. 
    “Would a DVD or flash memory survive two millennia under the sand?” I asked. 
    Neither of us knew; nor did we have any way to determine whether Henry Bryson had met his end coming or going.  Any recording device the diggers unearthed could just as easily be blank. 
     

Chapter 8
     
    We returned to the Brysons’ lab, both still jet-lagged from our whirlwind trip.  Juliet led us into the conference room, where we were surprised to see that Markowitz and Bergfeld had not left Boston after all. 
    “I had to hear the rest of the story,” he said.  “How was your trip?” 
    As Lavon and I explained what we had found in Israel, each of us struggled to come up with an alternative that fit the facts as we knew them.  No one succeeded. 
    We could see, too, that Juliet had something else on her mind.  Her face reflected a strange sense of peace, serenity almost, that didn’t square with her husband’s demise.  I made the mistake of commenting on this.
    “I’ve thought of little else since you left,” she said.  “I came up with a plan, one that should require only a simple adjustment to the transport apparatus.” 
    “What kind of plan?” I asked. 
    “We can still save Henry, Mr. Culloden.  Now that we have the precise coordinates of his whereabouts, a rescue should be straightforward.” 
    “But that means someone else will have to – ”  Lavon cut himself short. 
    “Yes, Robert, and I am thankful that we have a person in this room so uniquely qualified for the task.” 
    I would have expected Lavon to jump at the chance, but to my surprise, his first impulse ran against the idea. 
    “He could have died somewhere else,” he protested.  “There’s no guarantee anyone would find him alive in that cave.” 
    “No,” she replied, “but do you think a perfect stranger would have carried his body very far, in that climate?” 
    Lavon shook his head. 
    “And you told me yourself that his bones showed no signs of gross physical abuse.  Did you mean that, or were you just trying to avoid causing me any more sorrow?” 
    “No, I meant it.  The lab in Tel Aviv analyzed the skeleton with great care, given the discrepancies we found.  I think it’s safe to assume he wasn’t executed, nor was he torn to pieces by a mob, or by wild animals.” 
    “Well, then, it should still be possible to save him.” 
    “Or leave two skeletons in that cave instead of one,” Lavon grumbled.  “Your husband could have died from dozens of other causes that would have left no impact on his bone structure.” 
    The rest of us watched without saying a word. 
    “Robert, I implore you:  you’re the only one who really understands that world.  You’re the only one who speaks the language.” 
    “I read ancient Greek,” he said.  “There’s a difference.  Plus, not everyone in that area spoke Greek.  If I encountered the wrong people, I’d be more likely to get a knife in my gut than directions to Jerusalem.  In fact, that may have been what happened to your husband.” 
    “But you know he wasn’t robbed,” she replied.  “You found a bag of Roman coins by his bones, did you not?” 
    Lavon nodded.  The cache amounted to three months pay for a typical unskilled laborer.  No brigand would have left that behind. 
    “I’m not too proud to get down on my knees and beg if I must.” 
    Lavon sat in silence for another minute or so.  Finally, he sighed.  “There’s no need to