The Resurrection File Read online

  “Who’s the one who might be an expert witness for us?” Will asked.

  “Her name is Mary Margaret Giovanni,” Heftland said. “American-born, but raised abroad. Former nun. Was a consultant in ancient Semitic languages and biblical antiquities at the Vatican. Has written and lectured on the subject of…” With that, Tiny had to look at his notes to remind himself of the word.

  “…written and lectured on the subject of first century papyrology.”

  “That’s the study of papyrus writings,” Will noted.

  “Bingo.”

  “Is she going to help us?”

  “Don’t know. She said she wants to think about it. When I mentioned MacCameron’s name she said she wanted to check out our guy first before she was willing to sign on as an expert witness on his side.”

  “When will she let us know?”

  “Couple of weeks.”

  “That’s too long,” Will said. “Our trial date is only about four months away. Our deadline for naming experts is in three weeks.”

  “I’ll have her call you,” Tiny responded. “Hey, did you see Reichstad’s research center up in Maryland?”

  “Yeah. Nothing particular. No fences. No security. Just a plain office building.”

  “That’s my point,” Tiny explained. “That’s why I wanted you to see it yourself. Remember, I did security work for the State Department in my bygone days when I worked with their security forces in the Middle East. So, I crawled around on that property with Walter Ugett—the electronics whiz kid I work with sometimes. What we discovered is that this research center has very sophisticated remote sensors set up on the grounds. I mean, like the kind you find on the White House lawn to prevent crazy guys and terrorists from getting onto the property. That kind of sophisticated security. It beats me why a bunch of ivory-tower experts in ancient history would need that kind of world-class security.”

  “Have Giovanni call me,” Will said, trying to cut short his conversation, since he heard the fax machine ringing in the other room. But then he thought of one more question.

  “By the way,” Will asked, “do you have any kind of dope on the MIRV missile incident—anything turned up for you?”

  “Only what I read in the papers or get from the TV,” Tiny responded.

  “Do you have any thoughts on it?”

  “In my professional opinion,” Tiny said with a measured sense of importance, “that whole deal stinks more than my garage when I forget to put out my garbage bags for pick-up. You know, when it’s summer, and it’s really hot, and things really get cooking up?”

  “I think I get the picture,” Will added.

  “That operation was just not right. Something’s really weird about that deal.”

  After hanging up with Tiny, Will walked to the copy room. On the fax machine was a note from the public defender in New York. It read simply,

  Meet me tomorrow at noon on the steps of the

  New York Public Library. Please come alone.

  Will picked up the fax. He was starting to get the feeling that there just might be a healthy side to paranoia. As much as he did not want to admit it, he was starting to wonder whether there was more to Reichstad vs. MacCameron than just one more lawsuit—even an unusual lawsuit at that. Rather than leave the fax in his office he folded it and stuck it in his pocket.

  After trying to return Jack Hornby’s call and only getting his voice mail, Will left a message for him. Then he called Jacki Johnson at the D.C. office of Bates, Burke & Meadows. Jacki was on her way to court so she couldn’t talk long, but she was warm and asked how Will was doing.

  “Betty quit today,” Will explained.

  “Sorry to hear that,” Jacki said. “What are you going to do about office help?”

  “I thought you might know someone.”

  “Let me think about it,” Jacki said. “Say, what did you ever do about that lawsuit that came in—you know, the one with the old professor or whatever he was. J-Fox Sherman was on the other side.”

  “I took the case,” Will replied.

  “So, it’s Will Chambers versus the great and powerful OZ?” Jacki said with a laugh. “Well, you always liked those kinds of odds. Listen, I’ve got to run. I really have been thinking a lot about you. Howard says hello. We have to get together for lunch sometime. Please keep in touch.”

  Will hung up the phone. It felt good to touch base with Jacki. He could have used her help on the MacCameron case. But that was not going to happen now. Will was facing the fact that this case would have to be a solo flight.

  32

  WILL RESERVED A TICKET FOR THE FOLLOWING morning on the early train to New York City, and then sat down to review the transcript of the MacCameron deposition that the court reporter had dropped off. He knew that analyzing the precise wording of Sherman’s questions and MacCameron’s answers would be essential.

  One of Will’s first conclusions was that MacCameron had not committed “perjury” at the deposition, as Sherman had suggested—not even close. Sherman’s question had been whether the “reason” for MacCameron’s leaving the University of Edinburgh was that the University was entertaining charges of misconduct against him. MacCameron had denied that the “reason” he had left that University was that they had been thinking about bringing plagiarism charges against him.

  After the deposition, Will had asked MacCameron about the incident at the University of Edinburgh.

  MacCameron admitted that at first the University officials had thought he had plagiarized the rough draft of a paper of another graduate student. MacCameron had denied it when they interviewed him about the incident. While the matter was pending, he had decided to follow his heart and go to America to join his future wife, Helen. It was only after he had arrived in the United States and enrolled in the college in West Virginia that the University of Edinburgh officials learned the truth: It had actually been the other graduate student who had tried to use the ideas he found in one of MacCameron’s papers as his own. MacCameron invited Will to contact the University administration in Edinburgh to verify that fact.

  But Will had been genuinely concerned about MacCameron’s physical demeanor during the deposition. When Will mentioned that, his client then confessed that he had a history of heart problems and was prone to fatigue. He apologized for not being “on the mark” during the deposition.

  In further review of the transcript, Will saw very clearly that Sherman and Reichstad wanted to put MacCameron on trial. They would try to match the Scot’s modest educational qualifications against the world-renowned Reichstad’s credentials. But this case, Will concluded, could not be about Reverend Angus MacCameron. It was bigger than the personal problems, or professional accomplishments, of either of the parties.

  Will thought back to one of the sound bites that he had given to Jack Hornby. Will had commented,

  If my client was correct in what he wrote, and it is our contention that he was—then truth itself is on trial.

  What Will now realized was that his description of the case to Hornby was more accurate than he could have imagined.

  Sherman and Reichstad would want to make it a trial of the smallest and most precise details. Sherman would try to force the case into a small and tortured box of carefully controlled facts.

  Yet Will knew that, while he would have to answer all of the minute factual details raised by Sherman in order to prevail, he would have to go one step farther. Will Chambers would have to paint the big picture on the big canvas. “Truth itself is on trial.” But the truth about what? Or who?

  Will was beginning to understand. This case was really about the very question raised by Reichstad’s sensational revelation of the 7QA fragment. It was the question that Will had not wanted to face, perhaps for reasons more personal and more profound than he had ever thought. But it was the question that he now had to answer for himself and ultimately prove to a jury and a federal judge: Did the remains of the body of Jesus of Nazareth still lie in a tomb somewher
e in Jerusalem as the 7QA fragment seemed to indicate? Or did Jesus walk out of his own grave—thereby making Reichstad’s interpretation of 7QA false, or at the very least, grossly inaccurate?

  What if, Will now reasoned with himself, a world-class historian informed the whole world that he had discovered a single small fragment of a historical document from the late 1700s that proved that George Washington was not the leader of the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War? How would such a report be treated? Clearly, he concluded, it might cause experts to call such a person either a liar—or at least an incompetent historian.

  But would that situation be any different from the 7QA dispute? The difference probably rested, Will thought to himself, in the degree of certainty we have about the facts surrounding George Washington’s life. We are all pretty certain about George Washington. We are less certain about what happened in ancient Israel two thousand years ago.

  But what if, after objectively viewing the evidence, there was only one reasonable conclusion about Jesus? What if the credible facts all pointed to his actual resurrection? Could that ever be proven in a court of law? Was this the ultimate defense of truth that Will would have to produce in trial? Will wondered how he could ever hope to be able to prove something of such monumental significance—something that had been debated by historians, theologians, and philosophers for two thousand years.

  As Will was packing up for the day, the phone rang. When he picked it up there came over the line a voice that he had not heard in years—a deep, booming southern drawl.

  “Will Chambers—how are you, my friend?”

  “Is this brother Billy Joe Highlighter?”

  “Yes, my friend, it certainly is. Will, how are you?”

  “Fine, Billy Joe. How about yourself?”

  “Oh, I will tell you, my friend, I am Spirit-filled and blessed by the Lord!”

  Highlighter was an old client of Will’s. After Will had left the ACLU in New York out of disgust over its new policy of using federal racketeering laws against pro-lifers, he had joined the Law Project of the South as one of its civil rights trial lawyers. He had won a number of brilliant victories, but after only two years had found himself on the street again. The cause was simple: He had publicly insulted his legal director in an argument over a case.

  The case had involved Reverend Highlighter. Against the direct orders of his boss, Will had agreed to represent the controversial and flamboyant evangelist. Brother Billy Joe ran a large church called The Church of the Golden Road in Nashville, Tennessee. He had been preaching a series of sermons against immorality that were televised on a local cable channel. And in each of the sermons he railed against the local district attorney, who had refused to prosecute prostitution, gambling, homosexual bathhouses, and other “vice” crimes in the greater Nashville area. Highlighter finished his series of sermons against public immorality by marching his congregation down to city hall. There he preached, in his typical athletic style, on the sidewalk right outside the prosecutor’s office.

  The district attorney happened to be running for re-election at the time, and he didn’t care for the “hair-shirt exhortations,” as Billy Joe would call them. The prosecutor also didn’t like being called the “Herod of Nashville.”

  Unfortunately for Brother Billy Joe, that was about the time that a fire broke out one night in the sanctuary of the church and the whole property burned to the ground. But the building had been recently insured for a million dollars. When it was learned that the church had been considerably in debt at the time of the fire, the local prosecutor, who had managed to win re-election by only a dozen votes, saw his chance for revenge.

  He wasted no time convening a grand jury and charging Highlighter with criminal arson. Brother Billy Joe, feeling that he was being unjustly persecuted in retaliation for the exercise of his First Amendment–protected right to verbally tar and feather the prosecutor from his pulpit, contacted Will Chambers.

  This was the kind of thing Will Chambers relished. By then, the affair had attracted national attention, and Will’s boss ordered him to withdraw from the case and accused him of being a glory hound and a grandstander. Will stayed with the case anyway. And when one newspaper reporter asked him if the rumors were true that his boss had disagreed with his decision to represent Highlighter, Chambers gave one of his classic self-destructive comebacks. According to newspaper reports he said,

  Anyone who cannot see the clear First Amendment implications of this tragic and unjust case has one of two problems. Either he cannot read the clear language of the Constitution, or else he has suffered a serious head injury—the kind that makes you think you are a visitor to planet earth and your real home is somewhere outside our solar system.

  Chambers’ boss was not amused and Will was summarily fired. He continued representing Highlighter on his own, out of a local motel-room-turned-law-office. Will won an acquittal for Brother Billy Joe, and his victory made headlines around the country. But he paid a price. His liberal colleagues considered him a traitor of colossal proportions. Not only had he alienated himself from the ACLU, but now he was representing Bible-thumping fundamentalists like Highlighter.

  Will hadn’t spoken with Billy Joe in years. But the television evangelist wasted no time explaining why he called.

  “Will, I was just at an evangelists’ conference in Biloxi, Mississippi. And while I was there I heard via the grapevine about a case that I believe you have going on, involving a Harvard professor by the name of Albert Reichstad. And I was further informed that your case concerns that snake-oil piece of parlor-trick chicanery known as the 7QA fragment. Is this true?”

  Will smiled. Brother Billy Joe had apparently not mellowed over the years.

  “Yes. The case involves 7QA.”

  “Well,” the preacher continued, “back when you vindicated me against the false charges of criminal arson I covenanted with the Lord. I told the Lord that if ever I could do something for you—consistent with the commands of Scripture—I would do it. Now the first and most important thing I could do for you is to introduce you to the person of the Lord Jesus Christ. In the years since we last talked, have you considered getting to know Jesus Christ in a personal way, Will, by accepting his finished work on the cross and inviting him into your heart?”

  “Let’s just say that I am looking into the person of Jesus as we speak.”

  “Good. Very good. I will pray to that end,” Highlighter responded. “Now, secondly. I am, as you know, schooled in Bible exposition. If there is any way I can assist you in this highly important case, please let me know. I would be honored to be an expert witness for you. You know, I am also schooled in New Testament Greek. It is quite important, particularly if you are going to be disproving this preposterous 7QA hoax, to understand New Testament Greek—the language of the Gospels.”

  Will thanked Brother Billy Joe for calling and indicated that if he needed him to assist he would certainly give him a call. Will knew that there was no way that he could use Brother Billy Joe as an expert witness. The reasons exceeded the number of fingers on both hands. Yet one of Highlighter’s comments did seem important.

  Will closed up the office. In the hallway he greeted Hattie as she was humming some vaguely familiar tune and pulling her rolling cart, mop, and bucket.

  After leaving the office Will decided to take a detour over to the big bookstore that stayed open late. He wandered over to the religion section. After a few moments he located a Greek New Testament. He flipped through it and discovered that it contained an English translation of the New Testament side-by-side with the Greek. He also picked up an introductory text on New Testament Greek.

  From the bookstore Will headed home to Generals’ Hill. As he got out of his car and locked it up for the night, he stopped for a moment outside and smelled the powerful fragrance of boxwoods, and listened to the rustling trees of the surrounding woods. He did love this place. As he walked up to the towering columns on the front porch, he could hear Clare
nce barking joyously in the front room, waiting for him on the other side of the big front door.

  33

  IT WAS EARLY IN THE MORNING, and there was a warm mist in the air from the rain that had fallen the night before. From the back window in his kitchen Will looked out over the orchards and the acreage beyond. In an hour or so the fog would begin dissipating, but now it lay like a carpet of white vapor in the green rolling terrain past the orchards and all the way to the little creek that served as the boundary of his property. By the time the mist would lift, Will would already be on the train bound for New York City.

  Will hugged the neck of his big golden retriever, grabbed his briefcase and raincoat, and strolled the eighth of a mile or so down the long tree-lined driveway to the county road. He had decided to leave his Corvette locked up at the house and take a cab down to the train station. By the time he reached the end of the driveway the cab was still nowhere in sight. Will glanced at the overcast morning sky, and then pulled out his cell phone and called his answering service. Only one call had come in, one from Angus MacCameron. In the final part of his message, MacCameron explained,

  So, I have received your bill, Will. I do know the costs are going to mount in this case. Unfortunately, subscriptions to Digging for Truth have dropped drastically. We have serious budget problems. But I am sure the Lord will provide. I’m not quite sure how we are going to pay you from this point on…but don’t worry. We’ll figure something out. Thanks.

  Will had learned early on in his legal career that, while justice may be equal, that doesn’t mean it comes cheap. Tiny Heftland, through his work thus far in the case, had all but paid back the debt he owed to Will for past services. From this point on the meter would be running. They had hired the voice expert to analyze the tape-recorded message from Richard Hunter. Will had sent a written demand for Sherman to get his client to turn over the original 7QA fragment so that Will’s experts could evaluate it. Those experts would have to be paid.