disposing of Ghazi. Contacting friends she had
in the U.S., everyone had been eager to help her. The first day she had stook
in her new faculty office, Hannah had checked off on her list “Position
yourself close to J.D.” She was only a stone’s throw from ‘J.D’s’ home and job.
Taking
care of Justin was next on her list.
After
she had had time to contemplate, she thought that perhaps she did act, rather, react ,
to finding Ghazi with Dr. Sabir’s notebook too hastily. She had felt just a
tinge of remorse for not fully investigating what Ghazi knew before putting the
poison in his botz . In her country there had always been so much
conflict, people not understanding the reasons that others acted. The violence resulting from that
conflict too often touched her personally .
Her
father had wanted her to learn diplomacy; to practice it. To be strong and
independent. He wished for her to be educated and help her country. At first she
balked at it, she wanted to marry. Be normal. Like the women in American
movies. But growing up in a country that was in a constant struggle had taught
her a lot. And then after a while, her father thought she wasn’t capable of any
of those things, and gave up on her. Perhaps, in contrast to what her father
had thought, she had learned some diplomacy after all. And proving her father
wrong pleased her.
So,
she had decided, she would give this Dr. Dickerson a reprieve – for the moment.
Until she found out fully what she knew.
That
only meant, she reasoned, that it would take a little longer to cross her off
the list.
Case Western Reserve University had hired Hannah Abelson as a Professor
Emeritus in Semitic. Her credentials were impeccable. She was fluent in
Aramaic, Arabic and Hebrew. She was a linguist and cryptologist. And she had
written several scholarly articles on the digs around Jerusalem. Case had even
put Hannah on the board that awarded grant money to individuals for work in
anthropology and archaeology.
They
certainly kept her busy when she first arrived. Nonetheless, during that time,
Hannah had found time to investigate Dr. Justin Dickerson. She had found where she
worked, where she lived, and what kind of car she drove. On more than a few
occasions Hannah had sat outside both the museum where Justin worked back then and
her home for hours, just waiting and watching. And on some of those days, once
Justin emerged, she had followed her around for the rest of the day. She
learned all she could about her routines, her habits, even her husband. But she
hadn’t been able to befriend her, so she hadn’t found out exactly what Justin
was doing. Or, how much she knew about the manuscripts.
She
needed help.
Perhaps
someone that worked with Justin would make a good choice. Or, maybe someone she
could bribe. She would have a lot of clout with her new position. That person
could watch from the inside. She would watch from the outside until she could
wiggle her way into Justin’s life.
And
she did find someone who had worked out beautifully. He was able to find out
intimate details of her work and kept Hannah abreast of it all. And she helped
him as well.
After
a few years, Dr. Dickerson came to Case to teach. Hannah took every opportunity
to spy on her after that. As Justin Dickerson made friends, and got on
committees, Hannah would make the same friends and get on the same committees,
and surreptitiously question others that knew her. She followed Justin around,
staring at her, assessing her. No longer from behind the scenes. Out in the
open. She had to know Justin. And, she thought, it had paid off.
Hannah
read all the articles Justin wrote, found out all about the classes she taught.
And, Hannah determined after much contemplation, that as far as she could tell,
Justin never did anything with the information from Dr. Sabir’s notebook.
Perhaps, Justin didn’t know anything about it.
But
Hannah didn’t waver in her mission.
She
would do nothing for now. She would