A Long Way to Shiloh Read Online Free PDF

books.’ He said it very confidently.
    I drew in a lungful of smoke and looked at him. Dr Silberstein was indeed the doyen of all book-getters. If there was a book to be got, Dr Silberstein could get it. I’d used him before. I’d have used him this time, except that a Silberstein book came out a bit pricey. It wouldn’t, however, have page 64 missing, and it would have all relevant errata slips gummed in, even if Dr Silberstein had to lay hands on six separate copies distributed over six separate countries to ensure it.
    I said, ‘How will Dr Silberstein get the books?’
    ‘How will Dr Silberstein get books ?’ Uri said, opening his eyes very wide.
    ‘How will he get my books? How does he come to be in the act at all?’
    ‘I have brought him in the act,’ Uri said. ‘I have told him everything you told me. With regard to books, you have nothing further to worry about.’
    It occurred to me that this bastard was being not only unusually knowing and unusually persistent but also unusually intrusive.
    ‘Who asked you to?’ I said.
    Uri respectfully inclined his head.
    ‘I did,’ Agrot said. ‘Of course with the approval of the Department of Antiquities of the Ministry of Education and Culture.’
    ‘I see.’
    ‘No, love. You don’t,’ Uri said. ‘I’m afraid it all had to happen in a hurry. But everything was strangely – the religious might even say divinely – propitious. The suggestion is that while Dr Silberstein does a job for you, you do this job for us, we paying both fees. You’re needed, you see.’
    ‘Urgently,’ Agrot said.
    It took a moment for this to settle.
    I said, ‘What’s up with your own semiticists?’
    ‘Nothing,’ Agrot said. ‘Only I’ve been re-reading your work at Jericho and Megiddo. It shows unusual qualities of flair. You have good hunches. They work. We need them.’
    ‘How do you know they’ll work now?’
    ‘I don’t,’ Agrot said. ‘Do you?’
    He was still smiling his gentle smile; a student of human nature.
    I said, ‘What’s the urgency?’
    ‘Our copy, unfortunately, isn’t the only one. And it’s certainly not the best one. The readings are, so to say, obscure. We have good reason to believe our neighbours have a better copy. You haven’t been approached by them, I suppose?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘No. I don’t know if you saw this.’ He’d taken a booklet out of his pocket. ‘I’ve marked the page.’
    It was the Revue de Qumran , Editions Letousey et Ane, Paris, by way of being one of our trade papers. The marked page was a correspondence page. A letter signed Khalil Sidqui from Amman , Jordan, had been ringed. I began to read it, with a vague recollection of having read it before. Apropos some doings at Qumran, Sidqui had reason to believe documents had been found elsewhere that cast light on first-century place names in Northern Palestine. Scholars had a duty to publish such valuable material. It was unscholarly to allow politics….
    The usual kind of sniping carried out by both sides to see if the other has turned up something new.
    I said, ‘Yes, I read it.’
    ‘Do you know Sidqui?’
    ‘Yes.’ I’d met him in Jordan, a little elderly worrier; not very top class.
    ‘There’s no question it’s our thing he’s talking about. We have other evidence. Someone put Sidqui up to this.’
    ‘A funny choice. Does he bother you?’
    ‘Not Sidqui qua Sidqui,’ Agrot said. ‘Just the implications. They must have had their copy some time.’
    ‘When did he write this?’
    ‘Before last December, anyway. He died then.’
    ‘Did he? I didn’t hear about it.’
    ‘No. Nor did I till last week.’
    ‘What was up with him?’
    ‘He was a sick man. Bilharzia. Some other things. However,’ Agrot said briskly, ‘the point is we know they have it, and that they are being very busy with it. I understand you leave your present post next week. If Silberstein takes on this thing for you, I’d be glad if you could come out then.’
    Would you