The Sacred Bones Read Online Free PDF Page A

matter greatly." He spread his hands and paused. "The Israelis have agreed to keep this quiet, but ask that we cooperate in sharing all information uncovered through our internal investigations."
    Razak fingered his cup and looked up. "I'm assuming the police have already begun preliminary investigations?"
    "Of course," Farouq interjected. "They arrived minutes after the episode occurred. Problem is they've yet to present any definitive evidence. We suspect important facts are being withheld. That's why we've summoned you. Confrontation seems inevitable."
    "If only-- " Razak began.
    "Time's limited," another Waqf member with a thick head of silver hair overrode him. "Both sides are concerned it won't be long before the media starts drawing its own conclusions. And we all know what that will lead to." His grave eyes circled the table to draw support. "Razak, you know how fragile our role is here in Jerusalem. You see what's happening outside on the streets. Our people rely on us to protect this place." He stuck out an index finger and tapped it on the table twice. "There's no knowing how they'll react. Unlike most of us," he eyed the first outspoken elder, still purple from rage, "they will assume the Israelis are responsible."
    Farouq came in again. "You can well imagine that Hamas and Hezbollah are both anxious to lambaste the Jews for this." His face darkened. "They're asking for our support implicating the Israelis to further Palestinian liberation."
    The situation was far worse than Razak had imagined. Tensions were already running high between the Israelis and Palestinians. Both Hamas and Hezbollah had garnered much support over the past few years in their efforts to outwardly oppose Israeli occupation and this incident would surely bolster their political agenda. Razak tried to not think about even more drastic consequences that were likely to occur. The Waqf was now stuck in the middle of a very precarious political situation-- one that felt impossibly fragile to Razak. "So what do you wish of me?" he asked, looking round the table.
    "Determine who stole the relic," replied the soft-toned elder. "We need to know who committed this act so justice can be served. Our people deserve an explanation as to why such a sacred place has been so maliciously violated."
    In the ensuing silence Razak could hear the taunting, muffled sounds of protestors through the window, like voices from the grave. "I'll do whatever's necessary," he assured them. "First I'll need to see where this happened."
    Farouq rose to his feet. "I'll take you there now."

    4.
    V ATICAN C ITY
    Charlotte Hennesey was battling the unforgiving eight-hour time difference, and three espressos earlier that morning hadn't helped to settle her.
    As instructed, she was waiting in her guest suite until summoned. Unlike the limousine and first-class service that had whisked her from Phoenix to Rome, her accommodation at the Vatican City's Domus Sanctae Marthae residence hall was austere. White walls, simple oak furniture, twin bed and nightstand, though she did have her own bathroom and a small refrigerator.
    Seated at the sun-filled window, she gazed out over the tiled roofs of Rome's western sprawl. Having finished her novel on the plane-- Anne Tyler's Saint Maybe -- she'd now had to settle for the English edition of L'Osservatore Romano , reading it from cover to cover. Sighing, she set the paper down and looked over at the nightstand's digital alarm clock-- 3:18.
    She was anxious to get to work, but wondered what purpose an American geneticist could possibly serve here. As the head of research and development at BioMapping Solutions, Charlotte typically made off-site visits to pharmaceutical and biotech companies looking to apply the latest discoveries in the human genome to their research.
    It was her boss, BMS founder Evan Aldrich, who had taken the call almost two weeks ago from a Vatican cleric named Father Patrick Donovan. Having heard the priest's compelling