Chapter 22

Shortly after noon, Joseph of Arimathaea called at the Insula and asked to see Pilate. He was informed that the Procurator was resting and must not be disturbed. Joseph insisted that the matter was urgent. After a considerable delay, he was shown into the council-chamber, where Pilate sat at his desk, blear-eyed and sullen.

‘Well, Joe,’ muttered the unhappy Procurator gruffly, ‘what is it?’

‘I want permission, sire, to bury the Galilean—when he is dead.’

‘Friend of yours, Joe?’

Joseph nodded slowly.

‘At a distance, sire,’ he said. ‘I was not a follower. I did not have the courage. But—I want to put him away…in my own tomb.’

‘Perhaps you think the Galilean was unjustly convicted,’ rasped Pilate crossly.

‘I am not here to criticize,’ murmured Joseph.

‘But you think the man was innocent,’ said Pilate. After a pause, he added impulsively, ‘So do I, Joe!…But—what could I do?’

‘May I have his body, sire?’

The Procurator picked up his stylus and wrote a brief order.

‘Give that to the Legate from Minoa.’

The door was quietly opened, and the Captain of the Insula Guard approached the desk.

‘A small delegation is here, sire, sent by the Sanhedrin,’ he said.

‘Very well,’ muttered Pilate wearily, ‘bring them in.’

The spokesman, a youngish priest, bowed deeply, and said:

‘The writing, sire, that we requested, is misleading.’

‘What writing?’ demanded Pilate irascibly.

‘That we nailed at the top of the cross, sire. You wrote, “This is the King of the Jews.” It is misunderstood. We would like you to write, “He said he was the King of the Jews.”‘

‘Do your own writing!’ shouted Pilate angrily. ‘I have written enough! Quite enough! Let me hear no more of it!’ He beat the desk with both fists. ‘No more of it—I tell you!’

The delegation bowed itself out. Joseph rose to go.

‘Farewell, sire,’ he said, ‘and thank you!’

Pilate, glumly preoccupied, nodded, but made no reply.