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.The whole country seemed not so much tiny asminiaturized; the abrupt changes in the terrain, fromthe verdant oases like Jericho to the frighteningbleached flatness near the Dead Sea, to these rollingbrown hills of Judaea, were microcosms of landscapeslike those in the United States, where mountainsstretched to the horizon and rolling plains took daysto cross instead of minutes.When they continued the drive, Dinah kept glancingout the window; she would not have been too surprisedto see Mr.Smith in hot pursuit, on camel or donkeyback, or even on foot.But during the last half houranother mood came upon her.They were all silent andexpectant; Martine even turned off the Beatles withoutbeing asked to do so.The car climbed a hill, and there it was, ahead.Thetwisting gray line of the old walls enclosed it like aribbon.Over the dim shapes 174 / ELIZABETH PETERSof roofs and church spires rose the great golden curveof the Dome of the Rock, shining like an enlarged re-flection of the declining sun.Mrs.Marks bowed her head and began to pray.Di-nah found herself envying the older woman s easypiety.Beautiful and evocative as the view undoubtedlywas, the first thought that had entered her mind wasa disconcerting one: that, at a distance, the dominantfeatures of the Holy City were the defensive walls builtby a great Moslem ruler, and the towering dome of thefamous Moslem sanctuary.Instead of going into the city, they turned to the eastand ascended the road leading up to the Mount ofOlives, where their hotel was located.Mrs.Marks sworldly facade had crumbled completely; every footof this place had meaning to her, and she pointed outsites that Dinah couldn t even see from the road.Others were marked by the tall spires or domes ofchurches, built to commemorate the spot: the Churchof the Assumption of the Virgin, the Basilica of theAgony and the Garden of Gethsemane, the Church ofthe Ascension.Then the car came out onto a levelspace and stopped in front of the hotel.Mrs.Marks gave the elegant modern building ofstone and concrete a disparaging look. I stayed in the city when I was last here, THE DEAD SEA CIPHER / 175she said. In a church hostel.It was primitive, but muchmore suitable. After that, Dinah was ashamed to admit that shefound the appearance of the hotel absolutely delightful.It suggested air-conditioned rooms, private baths, anddrinks with ice in them.She had never been able tosee the connection between discomfort and spiritualenlightenment; but she knew that her position wasunpopular in certain church circles. When were you here last? she asked. This hotel wasn t even built then, Mrs.Marks saidevasively. It should not have been built.It is profana-tion. Father Benedetto did not share her view.He helpedthe ladies out, looking very pleased with himself andhis surroundings, and studied the hotel facade with acalculating eye while a horde of hotel employees des-cended to carry off the baggage. It looks quite comfortable, he said. I hope we haverooms on the other side; there should be a magnificentview of the city. The rooms, said Mijnheer Drogen, will be on theproper side. Traveling with a distinguished diplomat had its ad-vantages, and Dinah was in a mood to appreciatethem.Their rooms had the coveted view, and theywere all located in a small 176 / ELIZABETH PETERSside corridor, which had no other occupants.FatherBenedetto and the doctor shared a double room, asdid Martine and René, and Drogen and his secretary.Dinah and Mrs.Marks had single rooms.She heardthe old lady s expressive snort from the open door nextto hers, and grinned as she followed the bellboy intoher room.Picturesque charm was all very well; butafter the dust and heat of Jericho she was ready for anice hot bath and a nice cold drink.The only other member of the party who seemed toshare Mrs.Marks s contempt for the effete effects ofcivilization was Martine.She did not speak, but herface was set in a sneer from the moment she enteredthe lobby, and the booming voices of the Beatlesechoed through the handsome halls until they werecut off by the slam of her door.The latest selectionwas that charming tribute entitled Back in theU.S.S.R., and Dinah knew that it was directed at theAmericans in general, and at plumbing and Americanpolicy in particular.René, silent as always, perhapsdid not share his mate s ascetic tastes.He winked atDinah, and grinned widely as he entered his room.Dinah closed her own door, reveling sybariticallyin the low hum of the air conditioner and the sight ofa shining tiled bathroom through a door to the left.The wall-to-wall carpeting and THE DEAD SEA CIPHER / 177the furnishings were as modern, and as luxurious, asthose of the best hotels on the continent, and the greendraperies framed an unparalleled view: Jerusalem, onthe opposite hill, protected by its ancient walls andcrowned with its golden dome.Over the city the sun sorb hung like a fiery red ball.Dinah sighed happily.She was looking forward toa quiet hour by herself, watching the sun go downbehind the city; but there was a certain malice in herpleasure.Mr.Smith would probably catch up with hersooner or later, but she doubted that he would havethe nerve to harass her in this hotel.The Intercontin-ental was not at all his style. SIXThey were all up early next morning, eager to beginthe traditional pilgrimage
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