Chapter 12

Laura, who was driving, parked the Auburn outside the rabbi's home in North Hollywood, then she and Remington walked up the path to the front door. Remington wore black, English-made, Grenson derby shoes, gray dress pants, a formal cornflower blue shirt with cuff links and a blue, nautical blazer with gold buttons made by his personal tailor; his only concession to it being Sunday evident in his open collar and lack of a tie. Laura was dressed in a plain black, calf-length chiffon 'tea' dress and a pair of black, ballet style flats. The dress had half-length sleeves, a somewhat tight fitting bodice and then widened out into a flared skirt. With her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, Steele was irresistibly reminded of Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina.

Rabbi Meldola opened the door to them, offered them a warm smile and led them directly to his study. As if their arrival had been expected – which it had, of course, since he had called them just over an hour earlier – almost as soon as they had entered the study, there was a knock on the door and a young, dark haired girl came in bearing a tea tray.

"Mr Steele, Mrs Steele, you did not meet my youngest daughter before, I believe," said the rabbi. "This is Miriam – the baby of the family: she is only eight." Remington and Laura smiled at the little girl as she left the room. The tea was poured, then Rabbi Meldola rose and locked the door, before sitting back down behind his desk.

Remington began, "Rabbi, when you called us this afternoon, you said you had some very important news for us. Can we assume that you were successful at your temple, and that some information has come out about the Codex?"

"Oh yes, Mr Steele, that's definitely the case. In fact, that would be an understatement."

"Well, what have you got for us?"

"Let me show you," said Rabbi Meldola. He went over to a table at the side of the room, which was draped with a black cloth. Without ceremony, he pulled the cloth off.

Laura and Remington rose from their chairs to look – and both were temporarily stunned by the sight. "Oh my!" said Remington, rather quietly.

Before them, laid flat on the table, was a large sheet of thick clear perspex about three feet wide and two feet high, and underneath the perspex, sitting side-by-side, could be seen two pages of handwritten, ancient manuscript – pages of the Aleppo Codex. When compared in the mind's eye to the photostated pages which Laura had obtained at UCLA, there could be no doubt that – at least to a layman – the pages looked authentic. Remington looked more closely, and saw that there were in fact two sheets of perspex, with the manuscript pages sandwiched between them.

"Where did you get these, Rabbi Meldola?" burst out Laura, unable to check herself, and temporarily forgetting the possible consequences of speaking so directly to an orthodox, conservative rabbi.

Rabbi Meldola appeared to have enjoyed the effect of his theatrical unveiling. "After you both left my house last week, I immediately began to call members of our temple. By the time of the Shabbat service yesterday, I had already reached out to many of the community elders, urging them to come forward, and in turn to urge their own fathers, grandfathers and brothers to come forward if they knew anything.

"Yesterday, I spoke almost as a sermon to all those who came to temple; I said that if anyone knew of, or possessed any sections of the Codex, they had to come forward – such a document belonged to all Jews, and any man who kept such scriptures from his people would suffer a guilty conscience.

"After that, I am sure the Codex and the hunt for it was the talk of our entire community. Of course, nothing could happen on the Sabbath, and I did not expect it to. To be honest with you, I was not expecting anything to come of the entire business, Mr Steele.

"However, this morning a man – a member of our temple – came to see me. He said that my words had awoken his heart, and then he produced these pages of the Codex."

"Who?" asked Remington.

"I promised I would not reveal who he is, Mr Steele," answered Rabbi Meldola. "I am acting as his intermediary."

"So this man…" continued Remington, "has had these pages of the Codex since it was first broken up in 1947?"

"Yes; he tells me that he was in Aleppo during the period of the great riots, and worshiped at the Central Synagogue. He was on hand when mobs broke into the synagogue, and while others were attempting to flee with the Codex, various parts become detached; he salvaged these two pages as he fled."

"So he thinks there might be other pages somewhere?" asked Laura.

"He tells me he does not have any other pages, and does not know of anyone else who does. But he believes other pages could very well have been saved, just as he rescued these two pages," answered the rabbi. "He has kept the pages as carefully as he could for nearly forty years. For many years the pages were kept between glass, more recently between these plastic sheets. They have always been kept in neutral temperatures and in the dark."

"And why did he come forward now, eh?" asked Remington. "Was it the effect of your words alone?"

"He is obviously quite elderly. He wants to make his peace with God and make amends for any past mistakes, Mr Steele. As I said to you when we first met, many ordinary people have venerated the Codex as an object itself; it is only now that this man no longer wishes to keep it for himself but wishes to do the right thing…to see it returned to Israel."

"And how much is the price?"

"Nothing. There is no price."

"What? Surely, Rabbi, that cannot be? Why has the man kept these pages for so long if not to make a gain, eh?"

"Mr Steele, perhaps you cannot understand. As I told you, he kept them for reasons of religious piety, if you like – although you might also call it religious superstition, that having the pages would bring him luck. Now he realizes keeping them was wrong. He only wishes to make amends."

Rabbi Meldola, Remington and Laura returned to their seats and resumed drinking their tea. All seemed lost in their thoughts for a few minutes, overwhelmed by the importance of the artifacts sitting just a few feet away under their black cloth cover.

Steele, a man of a hundred different mannerisms, had subconsciously brought his left hand up to his mouth and was repeatedly stretching his bottom lip with his fingers. "Rabbi, your shul is in North Hollywood; now, without any disrespect intended towards your temple, would you say that your congregation is very affluent? Do you have all the money that you could use for community events, for example?"

"Mr Steele, it is true that we are not rich people; this is not Bel Air," Rabbi Meldola answered.

"Well, Rabbi Meldola, I know that there is no price attached to these two pages of the Codex. But surely, your congregation would welcome a charitable donation from a Jew who has become very successful in life? Would a donation from Mr Fouad not be welcome, at any time?"

Rabbi Meldola smiled. "Mr Steele, we have so many worthwhile projects and plans for our temple and our community. Charity – truly heartfelt charity – is always welcome."

"Well, Rabbi," said Remington, a gloriously conspiratorial smile on his face, "let me assure you that, within a few days, Mr Fouad will wish to make a charitable contribution to your temple of, say, $200,000…I know that he is a pious man, who escaped from Aleppo himself, and always wishes to help his countrymen following his good fortune."

"Good men have a moral impulse towards charity, Mr Steele," said Rabbi Meldola, suppressing his own conspiratorial smile.