Free Acts of the Assassins by Richard Beard

suspicion. I mean if I’m looking for a reasonable explanation for how the body left the tomb, after all this time. If Jesus is alive, someone patched him up and let him out. You were the man in charge.’
    ‘I was cleared at the tribunal.’
    ‘Of that particular act. Not of much else. The sentencing document is a classic, and I like the paragraph that declares you unstable and incompetent. I believe those are the words they used.’ Cassius Gallio keeps his eyes on the road. ‘Incompetent. Strong stuff.’
    ‘But not guilty of receiving illegitimate payments to allow the removal of the body. The tribunal had no evidence of that, no witnesses.’
    ‘They fired you once, they could do it again. That must worry you. Dereliction of Duty. Professional Negligence. And one other, I think, yes, I remember now, suspended Gross Misconduct for sexual harassment of a junior colleague. I looked up the charge sheet.’
    ‘It wasn’t harassment. Nothing happened.’
    Baruch is joshing, and he is not. Gallio can’t blame him, because anyone who wanted to steal the body would think first of corrupting the senior officer. That would be a logical approach to take, so the question needs to be asked.
    ‘All we know for sure is the body was gone,’ Gallio says. ‘Why are you picking my daughter up from school?’
    Baruch flips his foot off the dash, and as the city thins he gazes at the street-side storefronts. Driving out the slow way,dentists and driving schools give way to car dealerships and furniture outlets.
    ‘Where’d you hide the money, Cassius?’
    ‘How’s my wife? Been seeing her long?’
    ‘Intelligent man like you. Offshore, I guess. Your family—I mean the wife and child you abandoned—they could use some extra income.’
    ‘I never intended to abandon them. First, I don’t have money because no one bribed me. Second, if I’d let the disciples steal the body I’d know too much. I could undermine their resurrection story at any time, and they’d shut me up like they shut up Judas.’
    Baruch turns in his seat, sizes up Cassius Gallio as if for a coffin. ‘Does that prospect frighten you?’
    ‘No, because I don’t know too much.’
    ‘They didn’t kill Judas. Suicide. Investigated thoroughly, with official stamps on the verdict. You were getting a lot wrong back then, weren’t you, Cassius? I’ve heard the details from Judith, your ex-wife. You were wrong at work and wrong at home. Someone had to repair the damage and it wasn’t going to be you.’
    ‘It could have been me, except they sent me to fucking Moldova.’
    ‘You’re deluded. Says so in the tribunal report. Stubborn, isolated, unreasonable, prone to fantasy. You could no longer function professionally, not even at procedural tasks like locating a corpse. Or keeping a marriage alive. She’d never take you back now, not after what you did. And poor little Alma with her leg, she’s grateful for a real-life father figure.’
    Gallio stamps on the accelerator. Not much happens, the car’s a Toyota Corolla. He backs off, calms down. His family issomeone else’s business, and he can hide in the here and now, in the mission that Valeria has given him. He’s driving to Beirut, to find a man who looks like Jesus.
    At first, after hearing Valeria’s proposal, Cassius Gallio had said no. Valeria didn’t accept his decision, told him he should think it over.
    ‘No, really no. Jesus is dead. I’m not going to look for him.’
    ‘Sleep on it. I think you’ll take this on, because what else would you be doing?’
    Barracks near Stuttgart, barbarians at the gates, a single bunk, long sleepless nights and a routine designed to use up the time before he dies. At best, Cassius Gallio will look for his socks in the morning. He will look for the cheapest item on the canteen menu, and for an almost entertaining program on evening TV. Otherwise he’ll look for nothing.
    In Jerusalem, with or without his rank as Speculator, Valeria was offering him a