Written on the Body of Night Page #3

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Wasn't sure if caffeine's a sin|on a Tuesday morning.

As long as there is no more|than three lumps, I am safe.

Thanks.

I hope you don't mind,|but I thought it best to...

postpone publishing your report|in the archaeological journals.

-You did what?|-I saw Moshe Cohen this morning...

and he agreed that--

You had a meeting with Cohen without me|and decided to censor my report?

Yes. I suggested it.

Could you forget|your ego for a while?

You think I filed those reports for|the thousands who fock to news stands...

to read the latest edition|of the Archaeological Review?

What if I woke up and decided it's not|a good idea for you to say Mass today?

-I stop you.|-Listen to me.

Making your speculations public--|and that's all you have, speculations--

is not gonna help the investigation.

My saying Mass harms no one.

-Maybe it does.|-Really?

Maybe it threatens me in the same way|this archaeological find...

is threatening your religion.

I am not threatened. I am just concerned|about knee-jerk reactions.

-And I think you should be too.|-It's your reaction.

It's the Vatican meddling in places...

where religion has no place|that's concerning me.

Bullshit.

This is more about religion|than anything else and you know it.

Especially here in Jerusalem.

You're suggesting we throw science,|religion and politics into a mess.

A mess of unpredictable consequences.

I don't like to work like that.

Bullshit is the language|of the new Ecumenical Church, is it?

The coffee's great.|Are you enjoying the show?

It's just your subtle style of|Jesuitical debate. It's very impressive.

Have fun.

You're taking this personally.

You're bloody right|I'm taking it personally.

I should have called you.

I apologize for that.

I don't apologize|for delaying the publication.

All you had to do was ask.

Would you have agreed?

Now we'll never know,|will we?

We're taking a break.|They're inside.

What is next?

Well, I have to dust off|every single one of these bones...

polyvinyl them|and then we can move them.

All right.

There is a body in the tomb,|and old bones.

The man is a Catholic priest|from America.

No, not the same one|that was here before.

I will, as soon as I know|something new.

What are you looking for?|A spear mark?

Would I find it?

Probably.

But the pathologist|would be more accurate.

Right.

Christ was run through|with a spear, wasn't he?

Listen. You said something about...

other sources of dating|besides the coin.

Yes, we may find seeds|in the claywall.

And we can compare the style of the oil|lamp with other contemporary examples.

-Will you hold this for me?|-Sure.

Are you okay?

Can you get that box|for me, please?

Yeah, sure.

-What does this say?|-It's just random lettering.

They used to practice|their handwriting...

on pottery before they|transferred it to parchment.

Could this jar have been used|for anointing?

Yeah, but we won't know for certain|until the analysis...

on the residue|comes back from the lab.

Why?

Well, according to the Gospels...

the two Marys never finished preparing|Christ's body for burial.

That's why they came back the next|morning, morning of the resurrection.

But, of course, you know that.

Yeah, I know that.

But the jar is kiln-fired so we can use|it for thermo luminescent dating.

All we have to do is find one other|piece that we know to be from 32 AD...

and then we match|the glow curves.

So, how can we do that?

We find a piece that says,|"Dear Pontius Pilate...

here are some cleansing oils|for washing off dirty hands."

You're getting funnier and funnier.

It's not a joke, actually.

One call from Moshe Cohen to|the National Museum and it's done.

Why won't they leave me alone?

They took the jar.

I know. I know who they are|and Cohen can help us get it back.

-Are you okay?|-Yeah. Are you hurt?

It's just a scratch.

Why did they attack us?

The Orthodox attack|any archaeological dig...

where they think bodies|have been found.

What's going on?

They won't speak to me|because I'm a woman.

Do they speak English? Do they speak|Spanish so I can communicate with them?

We have to wait for Cohen.

Are you okay, Father?

We know the group.

They're troublemakers.|Followers of the Reb Nechtal.

Do you think they'll give it back?

Who knows?

Excuse me, sir.|Those men over there.

They were supposed to be|guarding the tomb, correct?

You two, back to the dig.

Come with me.

You wait here.

You're bleeding again.

I'm fine.

We can go inside.|Will you wear this, Father?

Right.

Ask him if Sharon|could be admitted...

as our scientific authority.

-Are you serious?|-As a heart attack.

He says the law is the law.|They won't return the jar because...

we disturbed the dead.

And according to the Talmud...

the dead are sacred.

Tell him the Talmud...

is not an absolute instrument...

but a subjective one|that needs man.

That is what they teach.

The Talmud needs man...

as much man needs the Talmud.

Tell him.

Look. These men live|by the Talmud.

-I don't think you understand.|-Say it.

Wait, wait, wait.

What did he say?

He says, the rabbi is right.

Which rabbi?

You.

Reb Nechtal will return the jar.

But the bones must remain in the tomb|until we can confirm...

whether or not the deceased man|was a Gentile.

Tell him that he has my word.

That shoulder is bothering you.|Why can't we do something about it?

It's all right.

Taking the jar is one thing.

But as far as removing|the body is concerned...

these guys would rather|eat pork than disturb the dead.

Satisfied?

Can we go now so you don't bleed|on the floor and contaminate my dig?

Hey. Where's the lamp?

Petty thieving.|Happens all the time.

These are the conditions|I have to work under.

Every link in the chain is relevant.

There was lettering on the jar.

Maybe there is something written|on the lamp too.

You can try and buy it back on|the Via Dolorosa tomorrow if you like.

You know what I just realized?

That someone besides you, me|and Lavelle has seen the body.

I know. I'm gonna take you inside|and do something with your shoulder.

-I'll just take a taxi.|-Let me have a look at your shoulder.

-Am I gonna get some chicken soup?|-If you're lucky.

-I'm so sorry we're so late.|-That's all right.

You look exhausted.|Have my children been tiring you out?

My children wore me out|long before yours. Don't worry.

-And who are you?|-I am Matt Gutierrez.

Gutierrez. Sephardic.

Sephardic Jesuit.|Matt's a priest from America.

-You don't look like a priest.|-I know that.

He knows that.

Well, now I understand|those Jews for Jesus.

-Good night. Thanks, Mrs. Kahn.|-See you tomorrow.

-Nice meeting you.|-Same here.

Make your self at home.|Go into the living room.

Mrs. Kahn's a professional matchmaker.|Did she ask you for I D?

No. She was satisfied|when I showed her my cross.

I understand|they work on vampires too.

My husband, Yaron.

He was killed in Lebanon.

I'm sorry.

You know, they can take care of this|at the monastery.

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