The Testimonium Read Online Free PDF

was uncovering. He was vaguely aware that Isabella had switched back from camera to video mode and was narrating in a low voice as he slowly uncovered the document lying on the desktop—a rectangular piece of parchment about the size of a yellow legal sheet. The parchment was not blank, either—as he very carefully whisked the brush back and forth, thin spidery letters began to swim up from the paper. Latin letters. Letters that were shaky and poorly formed; the writing of an old man with trembling hands. Rossini was too excited, and the letters too badly squiggled, to read in the glaring halogen light—till he uncovered the bottom of the page. There the hand was a bit bolder, a bit firmer, and the writing a bit larger. There could be no doubt about what it said. “Tiberius Julius Caesar Augustus” was scrawled boldly across the bottom of the ancient letter. They were looking at the signature of the second Emperor of Rome.
    * * *
    Bernardo Guioccini was stunned. “You’ve found WHAT?” he barked into the cell phone. In his three-year tenure as the Chief Archeologist of the Italian Bureau of Antiquities—indeed in his entire thirty-year career as a classical archeologist—this was the most outrageous claim he had ever heard. At the same time, he knew and respected Isabella Sforza as a consummate professional without a sensationalist bone in her body. For her to make a claim like this, it had to be legitimate. The half of him rooted in classical history was thrilled; the half of him that dealt with the public was wary of the media circus that was sure to ensue when word of this discovery became public.
    “We have not moved anything except dust,” Sforza was saying. “Every step has been chronicled with digital photography and video, and is stored in encrypted files on my laptop. We need tents, a very small and select field crew, and a mobile lab on-site, and probably some security as well. This location is going to be very hard to keep secret. Dr. Rossini is collaborating with local authorities to close the mountain to tourism for the next few days. It may be . . .” She paused a moment.
    “What are you thinking?” Guioccini asked. At the moment, he was open to any insight or ideas she might have.
    “The chamber is very small, and it appears that there are only a very few items in it. Once we clean the dust away, it may be that we can simply relocate all the artifacts to a secure lab for study, and then carefully document the chamber itself. We could then potentially reseal it, or perhaps even open it to the public for tourism.”
    “That is a bit unorthodox, but not unprecedented,” said the senior archeologist. “Indeed, given the very public nature of the site, that may well be the most practical solution. But we will have to wait and see exactly what the chamber contains, and how safely the artifacts can be relocated. For now, secure the site overnight and I will be there first thing in the morning.”
    “Very well, Dr. Guioccini,” said Isabella. “We will be here waiting.”
    Even as she was dialing the Bureau of Antiquities, Rossini had been talking to the chief of police in Capri village. Alfonse Rosario had come to the island about the same time he had, when the old police chief had been removed after being indicted in a corruption scandal. As the community’s two newcomers and outsiders, both had been regarded with a bit of suspicion at first. This resulted in each of them discovering a friend and kindred spirit in the other. Rossini had always been fascinated with police work, and Rosario had a strong layman’s interest in archeology. As each of them had gradually been accepted as part of the little island community, their circle of friends had widened—but never to the exclusion of each other. Rossini knew he could count on the police chief for discretion and logistical support.
    “Alfonse? This is Giuseppe. Listen, I am going to need your help this evening,” he said as soon as they were