ONE WEEK LATER, AFTER SUNDOWN, when the street lamps along the cobblestone streets of Monroeville had just come on, Will was making a quick trip back to his office. It was a mild night. Some of the evening birds were still chirping, and there was a soft breeze blowing through the blossoms on the pear trees. He had forgotten his wallet and checkbook and was returning to the office to fetch them. As he got out of his car he paused a minute to enjoy the sweet evening air.
Then he entered the building, locking the tall oak front doors behind him, and walked up and the stairs to his darkened office and turned on the lights. He spotted his wallet and checkbook—on his desk, as he had thought. He was about to leave when the phone in the lobby rang. He thought about letting it go to voice mail, but instead picked up the receiver. Jacki Johnson was on the other end.
Her voice was excited and she was talking a mile a minute.
“I was just on the Internet—I saw something that indicated that Judge Kaye had just filed his decision…he’s posted it on the Web…but I can’t get through to read it.”
The fax line started ringing in the copy room.
“Wait a minute,” Will yelled, and he ran down the hallway.
After a few seconds the document started printing out. Will could see the letterhead of the U.S. District Court of the District of Columbia on it.
He ran back to the lobby and picked up the phone.
“Jacki—the court decision is just coming through the fax right now…hang on the line, and I’ll tell you what the judge ruled as soon as I read it.” Will put the receiver down and started to run back down the hallway, but the second phone line rang.
When Will picked it up he heard a woman’s voice.
“Mr. Chambers, I am a reporter from the Affiliated Press Service. We have just received something in, a few minutes ago. I’m wondering if you could confirm Judge Kaye’s ruling, and give us a statement—”
“Listen, could you hold on for a minute?” Will broke in. He put her on hold, and started back down the hall to the fax machine, but the third telephone line started ringing.
He grabbed it and asked that caller also to wait just a minute, and then put him on hold as well.
Before Will could start for the fax machine again, he heard someone yelling his name outside, down on the street.
Will ran over to the window and yanked it open. There, down on the street, was Jack Hornby.
Hornby was standing next to a television truck with a large satellite dish.
“Will Chambers! I need to talk to you!” Hornby yelled. “I really need the first interview here…after all I’ve done for you. So what do you say? Come on down here and unlock the door of this relic and let me in.”
“What’s going on?” Will shouted down.
“Reichstad versus MacCameron. That’s what it is.”
“I’m just getting the court’s decision now on my fax, I haven’t even read it yet!” Will yelled.
“You don’t have to. I have it right here!” Hornby shouted back, waving a copy of the court’s ruling in his hand. “Just give me the first crack at this story, and then after you talk to me, a real newsman, then you can do the standup interview for these TV clowns down here, alright?”
“So why did the Herald change their mind and decide to cover this?” Will asked, leaning out of the window.
“They didn’t. I changed jobs. Congratulate me. I’m the new Washington, D.C., bureau chief for American Press International. Now go pull the court decision off your fax—just read the last page and then the footnote on page seven—that’ll give you the box score. You can read the rest later.”
Will sprinted down to the fax machine and pulled off the sheets of paper. He riffled through them and pulled out the last page and page seven, as Hornby had suggested.
Hornby was right. At the last page Judge Kaye summarized his ruling.
Regarding Reichstad and his attorneys having to pay MacCameron for the prejudice caused by their abrupt dismissal of the lawsuit, the court found Will’s demand for half-a-million dollars “slightly excessive.” Instead, the court ordered Reichstad to pay Angus MacCameron $400,000.
As for Will’s attorney’s fees and costs, and those of Jacki Johnson, the court granted the entire $596,843.74; this also to be paid personally by Dr. Reichstad.
J-Fox Sherman’s law firm, however, had been mercifully let off the hook.
Then Will turned to page seven of the court’s ruling and looked at the footnote. It read:
Plaintiff Reichstad argues that he decided to dismiss his lawsuit in the middle of the jury trial because his recent discovery of an ancient corpse has ‘vindicated’ his claim to have disproved the bodily resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth—thus dispensing with the need for a jury verdict to clear his professional reputation.
This argument the Court believes to be so incredible as to not be worthy of belief. MacCameron’s expert, Dr. Giovanni, testified convincingly, as to the identity of the corpse found recently in Jerusalem, near St. Stephen’s Gate, most likely being that of one Joseph of Arimathea, a follower of Jesus and the religious official who, according to the New Testament, was the prime mover behind the burial of Jesus.
It would appear to this court that Dr. Reichstad’s real motivation in dismissing his lawsuit when he did was to avoid the damaging—indeed, perhaps even indicting—testimony of Muhammad el Juma, a Bedouin tribesman who discovered the 7QA, 7QB, and 7QC fragments—and who could have linked Dr. Reichstad to the suspicious deaths of antiquities dealer Harim Azid and Dr. Richard Hunter.
Judge Kaye concluded the unusual footnote this way:
The conclusion of this rather extraordinary legal action now ends the inquiry into the burial, and possible resurrection, of Jesus Christ—the most central tenet of the Christian religion. That question is left unresolved. But then, perhaps that is also fitting. It is better left decided within the chambers of the human heart, rather than the chambers of a court of law. So, as matters stand, this Court, at least, can venture no official opinion on that issue.
As Will started toward the door to go down and speak with Jack Hornby he remembered Jacki on hold. Her line was beeping at the front desk.
“Jacki,” Will said, picking up the phone, “the court gave us almost everything we asked for. I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you back in thirty minutes. But when I call you back, I’m going to make you an offer to come back to work for me, so be prepared to say yes!”
When Will got down to Jack Hornby on the sidewalk, the reporter was smiling one of his ironic smiles.
“I wanted to interview God on this one, like you once suggested, but he’s not available. So I’ll have to settle for you instead.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Will replied. The bells of St. Andrew’s were now beginning to toll from above them. “That may be him calling right now.”