Selected Detective
HISTORY WAR

“War between Israel and Palestine and make no mistake, this is indeed a war taking place on many different levels with different weapons. The most obvious, of course, are physical confrontations: rocks against Galilean weapons, Molotov cocktails against merkava tanks, car bombs and suicide attacks against Apache helicopters and F16 jets.

“However there are also many elements in this conflict, which if less visible is no less significant. Diplomacy, religion, propaganda, economics, intelligence, culture are all arenas where the upheaval that goes on between my people and the oppressors of Israel plays out every day. In this article I will concentrate on one of the few battlefields of erosion that is the least likely to occur, and the most crucial of all, one that is at the heart or center of this already corrosive conflict: archaeology.

Layla paused for a moment. His fingers moved over his laptop keypad, scanning what he had just written, reading it aloud to make sure the writing flowed smoothly and made sense. He added another sentence “For the people of Israel, archaeology, especially the excavation of evidence to support the existence of the State of Israel listed in the scriptures in the land they control now, having been a key component in the later war against Palestine”, with ******, he distanced himself from his desk, stood up and headed for the kitchen to make coffee.

The article for the Palestine-Israel Journal has been spinning in his mind since a few weeks ago, since he met pwmud Yunis Abu Jish in the Kalandia refugee camp. This is a great subject, and with his speed of writing and the fact that he has planned everything in his head is an article that he should finish in a few hours or less.

For he has been working on this article twice in that time, since returning from the meeting with Father Sergius, and though it was not yet very night, he still just produced a small piece of the two thousand words he wanted to write. If this were just another subject, he might be able to concentrate better. Archaeological and historical references are a constant reminder in all matters relating to William De Relincourt; Layla has only written a few words since her mind has begun to shift, keep him away from his current job and return to De Relincourt and the mysterious treasures thought to be found by him that are buried in the church of the Holy Sepulchre.

What contents? He kept wondering in his heart. How is this related to Al-Mulatham? Who was the mysterious correspondent who had made him know about this story at first? Whahuh? Hows it? Wh who? The question echoed in his ears like a continuous ringing of bells, breaking his concentration.

He made coffee for himself, made it in the Palestinian style, attacked the water in a metal teapot and added coffee and sugar. After that he went up to the roof and looked eastward in the darkness of the sky, trying to clear his head.

At the top of Mount Scopus, the lights of the Hebrew University had been lit up, sharp and cold, as if the top of the hill was covered in a glistening sheet of ice; on the right side, on Mount olive, the Church of the Resurrection could be seen, as if the top of the hill was covered in a glittering sheet of ice; on the right side, on Mount olive, the Church of the Resurrection could be seen, wrapped in a warmer corona beam, like a halo. He smiled faintly at himself, recalling the moment when he and his father were racing down the hill from the church to the Gethsemane Basilica below.

At that time his father bet a dollar Layla could not beat his father to the bottom. Despite knowing her father would let her win, Layla deliberately stayed behind, a situation that was unlikely to dispel her sensitivity for victory as she crossed the mutually agreed finish line, raising her slender hands and cheering happily before panting demanding the prize money for her.

It was, like so many memories of him, an ambivalent image, full of happiness as well as melancholic symbolism. But still, he continued the race. Since his death, he has always been on his shoulder, shadowing him, pushing him, never ducking, no matter how hard he runs. The difference is that when there is a definite distance to go, a clear end to be seen, a reward for his depleted energy, there is now? There's nothing. There is no hope of victory or pleasure, no enjoyment.just a relentless, hopelessly fast run from emptiness to emptiness. And always the memory of his father being behind him, his decomposing skull, his handcuffed hands on his back like animals tethered to a butcher's table. Always been there. Always present. Always moving.

He rubbed his eyes, wiped away the moisture that was there, and looked towards the last dim flickers of stars that were slowly melting into the night. A cold wind started to hit his face. He closed his eyes, enjoying the fresh air of the night so calm. Layla remained in such a state for a while, hoping that she could be on the roof and fly, escaping all atrocities, leaving everything behind; then, with *******, he finished his coffee and went back to his study, sat down in front of his laptop and read once again what he had written. He added a few sentences, hesitantly, then, realizing that this was a waste of time, that he was too fixated, immediately closed the archive he was working on, kept his notebook and opened the internet, open Google and type “William De Relincourt” in the subject box.

Layla spent the next five hours searching every relevant list on De Relincourt, looking for new clues about him, something she might not have had on her first search the night before. William De Relincourt and the Holy Grail, William De Relincourt and Rosicrucian, William De Relincourt and the lost Atlanteans, William De Relincourt and the Vatican Conspiracy to take over the world Layla researched it all, each one looks more blurry than the previous one. If only he had searched for articles about the peculiarities of the New Age, or History as the New Mystic, he would surely have had time to do as he pleased.

As it turned out, he found nothing in addition to the facts he had known.

Once exhausted from searching all the data on William De Relincourt, Layla began typing another variation, expanding the network: Guillelmus De Relincourt; Gillom of Relincar; Esclarmonde De Relincourt; De Relincourt Jews; and; De Relincourt France; De Relincourt Languedoc; De Relincourt C. And stay nil. Sometimes there is no partner at all, sometimes dozens but irrelevant; sometimes there is a partner but already he got under another title.

only one combination is proven, if not to be considered helpful, but least interesting, and that is “Guillelmus Relincourt Hitler”, which he typed with information from Father Sergius this morning. He is now faced with more crazy theories, including that De Relincourt has discovered a kind of secret magical weapon capable of vaporizing the entire Jewish population of the world, a weapon that, for obvious reasons, it has made hitler so anxious to hold with his hand (and also to the writer's dismay, based on the antisemitic nuances in the article).

Most references are brief and not much of a related detail, but there is one, an article written by a Frenchman Jean-michel Dupont with a tickling footnote picked from Dietrich Eckart's diary, which is the most important, a Nazi ideologue and the man to whom hitler dedicated mein Kampf: November 13, 1938 Thule Soc. High spirits after the events of 9-10, with WvS making a joke about “Sweet of hope of the Jewish nation”. Dh said they would be more scattered if anything about Relincourt came apart, after which there was a long discussion about Cathars, and others. Bird chicken fence, champagne, cognag.apologize from FK and WJ.

Several cross-references reveal that Wewelsburg was a castle in northwestern Germany, the headquarters of his SS Himmler; the Thule Society was a Quasi-Esoteric order devoted to the promotion of Aryan mythology; it was the name given to the creation of a quasi-Esoteric; “events 9-10” is a mass destruction of Jewish property referred to as “Kristallnacht”; and Cathars is the name Layla found in several other articles, a type of Heretical Christian sect that flourished in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries (interestingly, they were particularly active in the Languedoc region of France.) The initials of WVS, FK and WJ, as far as he can identify, belonged to Wolfram Von Sievers, friedrich Krohn and Walter Jankuhn, Nazi academics and regular members of the Thule Society.

Everything is really interesting. Unfortunately, one part of the essence that he really needs as a source, namely the owner of the initials Dh and the meaning of the sentence “When things related to Relincourt freel”, he did not find. There is no Jean-Michel Dupont number or address, and after going to and fro for half an hour on the internet trying to clarify the issue Layla finally decided that it all shifted her concentration and for a while she gave up.

“Choose right!” he hissed furiously while kicking the leg of the table. “What the hell am I really looking for? Goddamnit!” It's almost midnight. He looked at the screen, his eyes moved with fatigue, then stretched out his hand to turn off the laptop, resigned himself to nothing else that night. When he did that, which was more out of exhaustion than because he thought it would make him better, he wrote the last word combination randomly into the subject box, the first one through his mind, he could not even think of it, just pressing the keyboard automatically as if it was more a touch of his finger than his mind had taken the initiative: “Relincourt france treasure Nazis secret Jews”. He paused for a moment, looked at what he had typed, then, again, more by reflex than rational, replaced “Relincourt” with “William” then clicked on the “Search” icon. it appears in the list of first couples.

St John’s College history Society ... Professor magnus Topping, with son title “Little William and the Secret of Castelombres: A Tale of Nazis, treasure..” The site, as stated in its title, belongs to the historical community of St John’s College, Cambridge, and it consists mainly of long reports rather than rather flowery accounts of the earlier terminology of events and activities, most of which, were, judged by J-peg accompanying the drunken graduates in toga and orange wigs, it has little or no bearing on history.

The paragraph in the report reads:

The last talk in the terminology buffer of a talk was given by our Professor Magnus Topping, with a talk titled “Little William and the Secret of Castelombres: Stories about the Nazis, and, treasure, Casthars and Inquisition”. In an enlightening and colorful discussion, Professor Topping explains how his research on the thirteenth-century acquisition has revealed an unexpected link between Cathars' treasure and the so-called “Secret of Castelombres”, which is a treasure trove of the Cathars, the latter is a castle in the Languedoc region of France where, according to medieval legend, some priceless treasures were kept there. From this starting point we are taken on a delightful journey into the world of the mystery cult of Judaism, the Nazi Archaeologists and the deep horrors of the Catholic Inquisition (Little William was a brutal interrogator), the overall effect is not your own historical seminar as usual but rather a full historical actor. a truly memorable night that was further impressed by the demolition of the noble speaker about the entire contents of the bottle of Lagavulin.Oh weep all of you who could not attend.

Layla's spontaneous reaction once reading this text was a light pleasure in a slightly overbearing style, mixed with a feeling of disappointment because, contrary to what she had expected at first, she was a little bit smug, William is clearly said to have nothing to do with William who is being interested and attention. This is a sign of how tired and weary Layla is, not to mention the skepticism after the night when she took the trouble of being in a mud-filled historical lie, so it was only when he read the second time that the connection between the report and his own research began to be seen. And it was only when he read the third time, like a bird appearing with a noise from a bush, said “Castelombres” suddenly jumped onto the monitor screen. Castelombres, Languedoc. C.

For a moment he stayed in his place, watching the name carefully, examining it deeply, then, with a rush of his adrenaline, very excitedly he began to gather all the scattered notes on his desk, pulled out the translation of the encoded letter and held it under the lamp, and his eyes read the text. I'm sending this right now with an estimate this thing will be safe in C.

“Yes Lord!” whispered.

He researched the report once again, carefully writing, then saved the website archive in his favorite archive folder then returned to Google and typed “Castelombres” in the search box. There are six responses. Layla clicks the first, “A Geneacology of the Comptes de Castelombres”. For some time, the screen remained empty, then, like a fog that disappeared before there was a strong wind, a family tree slowly appeared on the screen. Actually it was more like a family shrub, as only less than a dozen names were listed on its branches like tattered foliage.

The one caught by his eyes was the one in the middle.

Layla looked at him for a moment, checked and re-examined, then, with a sharp buzzing of relief and pleasure, she smashed her fist at the table.

“Can!” his yell.