“As you wish,” he shouted.

I thanked Mary Magdalene for her help, and this time Joseph followed me upstairs.

John Mark’s thin dark body was covered by a loincloth of animal skin that hung from his waist to below his knees. His black hair was a mass of curls swirling loosely around sharp, handsome features that were more Grecian than anything else. Despite his youth there was a strange intensity about him, and his brown eyes were much too sad and serious for his age. He entered the upper room slowly and uncertainly, responding to Joseph’s warm greeting with only a brief, forced smile. When the old man invited him to sit, he glanced back at the door as if he would have preferred to leave, but he finally lowered himself timidly onto a cushion directly opposite me at the table.

“Mark”—I smiled, trying to put him at his ease—“has John told you the purpose of my visit?”

He nodded.

“What is your age?”

He swallowed and said hoarsely, “I am in my twentieth year.”

“Do you remember much about Jesus? Six years is a long time.”

No response.

“Will you answer a few questions about him, if you can remember?”

Silence—but the muscles in his arms tightened and he clenched his fists as they rested on the table. Helplessly I turned to Joseph, who only shook his head despondently. Then I remembered my amulet, that heavy, flat, curiously shaped piece of gold I had worn since Joseph had presented it to me on our first day’s visit to the Temple. Already it had become so much a part of my body that I was no longer conscious of it hanging from its leather thong around my neck. I reached inside my tunic and removed the piece, turning its face so that Mark could see the outline of the fish.

“Will you please help me, Mark?” I asked, reaching across the table and placing my hand over his. His face brightened, and after a moment’s hesitation he placed his other hand over mine and nodded. Joseph’s loud sigh of relief filled the room, and I settled back on my cushion knowing exactly how Judas must have felt.

“Do you recall that last meal Jesus ate in this room?”

“I brought the food to him, from the kitchen below,” he said proudly.

“And did you see Jesus and the others when they finally departed, or were you in bed by that late hour?”

“I was downstairs in the courtyard, waiting for them. I had not seen my Uncle Peter in many months and I could not understand why he had not played with me, that evening, as he usually did whenever he visited our home. I had also resented having to eat the Paschal lamb with the women while all the men feasted together upstairs.”

“Did anything happen in the courtyard when the party came down from this room?”