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crown. They hoard their treasures and have slowed the examination of these newly discovered documents to a snail’s pace.”
    At the foot of the stairs, Harry noticed electronic steel gates poised overhead, ready to slam down at the press of a buzzer. He entered a long room that had clearly served as an underground chapel. The chamber was sectioned off by shoulder-high partitions forming individual workspaces. Almost every cubicle was taken. The atmosphere was intense, the conversation a soft background murmur. As Harry followed Pinter down the central aisle, he counted eighteen cameras monitoring their progress: one in each ceiling corner, four more down the length of the room, ten more scoping the alcoves.
    When they were seated in Pinter’s work space, Harry said, “Walk me through what Sean had you checking out.”
    Pinter opened his laptop and scrolled through hundreds of photographs and microscope slides and illuminated manuscripts. “Here. This is a letter from a knight of whom we have no official record. One Sir Reginald Furrow, or Furlough, or Furrwelle, depending on how one…” Pinter caught the look Harry gave him. He nervously cleared his throat and resumed. “Sir Reginald thanks the guild masters for backing his endeavors in the Holy Land. Which is utterly fascinating, you see.”
    â€œNo, Phil. I don’t.”
    â€œClearly this crusading knight was financed by the guild masters. Sir Furrow is offering the guild two gold chalices, and in exchange he declares that his debt is paid in full. And we have a drawing of the items here, as you see.” Pinter scrolled down to the charred lower edge, where part of a shallow dish emerged from what looked like burn marks. “Sir Reginald reminds his backers that King Richard the Lionhearted, who conquered Jerusalem in the eleventh century, had ordered him to hunt down temple treasures. We must assume he is speaking of the Second Temple, rebuilt by Herod the Great and destroyed by the Romans in AD 72. Which means we’re speaking of a treasure smuggled out of Jerusalem before the Romans broke through the city walls. This is utterly fascinating, because rumors have swirled for centuries that the Romansonly found a small fragment of the temple treasures. I suppose you’ve heard of the Copper Scroll?”
    â€œThe name, sure.” But what Harry thought was, Whoa.
    Sean had played around with the legends of Jerusalem’s temples for as long as Harry had known him. Not the first one, built by Solomon. The second, started by Judeans returning from the Babylonian diaspora and finished by Herod the Great. All of which Harry knew only because Sean had told him. Not that Sean had said all that much, seeing as how Sean was a miser with words. But every treasure dog Harry knew fixated on some legendary hoard that sparked their late-night musings. It was all part of the game. Harry had spent six years tracking down what most of the treasure world had called a myth, and had been rewarded for his troubles with seventeen months in a Barbados jail.
    And look where Sean’s search had got him.
    Pinter was saying, “If the Copper Scroll actually lists treasures from the Second Temple, which is disputed by some experts, it means that there was some cache which the Romans never found. We know what the Romans took away after destroying Jerusalem, because they inscribed their war booty on a triumphant arch that still stands in Rome.” Pinter waved an impatient hand, as though Harry Bennett had voiced an objection Pinter had heard innumerable times before. “Oh, all right, for centuries tales have abounded about some hoard located by the Knights Templar and subsequently lost. But this letter is suggesting the Templars arrived ten centuries too late!”
    â€œI need to see the original.” Harry rose from his chair. “Where do they keep this thing?”
    â€œIn the tombs.”
    â€œCome on, you’re