I didn’t realize anyone was speaking to me until I looked up and saw both Pilate and Joseph looking in my direction expectantly. “I’m sorry.”

Pilate shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “Joseph informs me that you are preparing a history of these eastern provinces. Sometimes I feel as if the citizens of Rome are unaware that our empire’s boundary extends beyond Sparta to their east. I commend you for undertaking to shed some light on these lands for those who cannot see beyond their Colosseum.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled, nervously rubbing moist palms against my tunic.

“Joseph also tells me that you wish to include, in your history of the Jews, the story of that rebel from Galilee?”

“Yes.”

“Your efforts will consume the remainder of your life and fill an entire library if you waste your time recounting the foolish exploits of every rabble-rouser these people have embraced.” Pilate’s voice hardened. “And even then I would think that this … this Jesus would merit no more than a sentence or two, if anything.”

I glanced toward Joseph for support, but the old man sat impassively staring down at his hands. He had done his part. I was in the presence of Pontius Pilate. The rest was up to me. “When I complete my research on the man, sir, I may well decide that your assessment of him is correct. Until then I must continue to seek the truth.”

“Truth? What is truth? No one has ever answered that question for me. And how does one know when one finds it?”

“I’ll know, sir.”

“Where has your investigation taken you so far, in your search for the … the truth about that dead troublemaker?”

Careful! Booby trap! Remember that he has had you followed and knows exactly where you’ve been and with whom you have met, with the possible exception of the Bethany sisters. Lie to him now and even Joseph won’t be able to save you. “I have already talked with James, the brother of Jesus, and some of his earliest disciples, such as Matthew, James, and Peter—”

“Agitators!” He snorted. “Sooner or later they will all follow their dead leader to the cross.”

“I have also met with Caiaphas—”

“Caiaphas?” He interrupted again. “If you seek the truth, why are you wasting your time on that one?”

“But he is the high priest! He can—”

“High priest? Vitellius could remove him tomorrow and place a goat in his place, and we’d probably be far better off. Caiaphas is not to be believed on anything concerning this business of Jesus. I should know!”

I didn’t dare respond to his vindictive outburst. All I could do was play the interview like a good fisherman and just keep letting him have all the line he needed. I hoped I wouldn’t run out of line before he ran out of patience with my questions.